summary: One weekend. One ex who wonât let go. And one man who finally stops pretending he doesnât love you.
word count: 4.9k
tw: fake dating, abusive/controlling ex, age gap. Aaron is protective. Threateningly.
masterlist
~âĄ~
You hated weddings.
Not weddings themselves, exactly. You loved the flowers, the dresses, the embarrassing speeches that somehow always ended with somebody crying into champagne.
What you hated was this wedding.
Because your sister was marrying the love of her life.
And your abusive ex-boyfriend was one of the groom's closest friends. For nearly two weeks, the knowledge had sat in your stomach like poison. Every morning you woke up thinking about it. Every night you fell asleep dreading it.
You had escaped him years ago.
Built a life.
Joined the BAU.
Become stronger.
Happier.
But trauma wasn't logical. It didn't care how many years had passed. It didn't care that you could now take down armed suspects and stare serial killers in the face.
Some wounds remembered.
And unfortunately, Aaron Hotchner noticed everything.
By the third day of your misery, he cornered you in an empty conference room. The second the door closed, his dark eyes settled on you.
"What happened?"
You sighed.
"I'm fine."
"No."
His response came instantly. You almost smiled. Nobody ever won arguments against Aaron Hotchner. Certainly not when he was looking at you like that.
Concerned. Focused. Gentle.
Unfortunately for your sanity, Aaron being gentle with you had become increasingly dangerous over the years.
You looked away.
"My sister's wedding."
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
"Congratulations?"
You groaned.
"That's exactly what everyone keeps saying."
"So that's not the problem."
"No."
Silence stretched. Aaron waited. Patient. The way he always did. Eventually the truth slipped free.
"My ex is going to be there."
The atmosphere changed immediately.
Aaron sat straighter.
"The abusive one?"
You nodded.
His jaw clenched, only slightly. Most people wouldn't have noticed. You did.
You always noticed him.
"He'll be there with someone," you admitted quietly.
"And?"
You laughed bitterly. The sound hurt.
"Because that's what he does."
Aaron listened. Never interrupting. Never judging. Not you.
"He always compared me to other women. Made me feel like I wasn't enough. Like I was lucky he even wanted me."
You swallowed hard.
"And now he'll show up with some gorgeous girlfriend and I'll be standing there alone."
Aaron was silent for several seconds. Then he leaned back.
Thinking.
You immediately became nervous.
Aaron-thinking was rarely a good sign. It usually led to decisions. And when that happened, even God himself took notes on how to close the deal.
Finally he spoke.
"I'll go with you."
You blinked.
"What?"
"I'll attend the wedding."
"No."
"I'll take leave."
"Aaronâ"
"I'll be your boyfriend."
You stared.
"My what?"
"Fake boyfriend."
His expression remained perfectly serious.
As if this was a completely normal conversation. As if your boss wasn't casually volunteering to pretend to date you.
"Hotch."
"Your ex wants control."
You looked away.
"He wants a reaction."
You hated how accurate that was.
Aaron's voice softened.
"Then let's not give him one. Beside, Rossi said he'll be there too? He's some family of your future brother in law? You won't be alone"
You spent the next week trying not to think about the fact that Aaron Hotchner was taking you to a wedding.
Trying and failing. Mostly failing.
Because Aaron approached the role with alarming dedication. He learned the names of your relatives. The wedding schedule. Your family dynamics. By the end of the week he knew enough about your life to pass a federal examination.
Meanwhile you couldn't survive a five-minute conversation without noticing how attractive he was.
The rehearsal dinner was somehow worse than the wedding itself. At least at the wedding, there would be distractions.
Music. Dancing. Champagne.
Here, there was nowhere to hide.
Especially when your mother spotted you walking into the restaurant with Aaron and immediately froze.
"Oh."
You closed your eyes. That oh. Every daughter knew that oh.
The one that meant your mother had just noticed something she intended to investigate immediately.
"Aaron," you muttered. "Run."
His mouth twitched.
"I face serial killers for a living."
"Trust me. This is worse."
Your father looked up at the same moment.
His eyes moved from you to Aaron and back again.
Slowly.
Suspiciously.
"Mom. Dad."
You smiled weakly.
"This is Aaron."
Your mother immediately stood. Your father did not. Which somehow felt more threatening.
Aaron extended his hand.
"Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N."
Your father shook it firmly, evaluating him the way fathers apparently had since the beginning of civilization. Aaron met the scrutiny without hesitation. Of course he did.
The man interviewed psychopaths for a living.
"You work together?" your mother asked.
"Yes, ma'am."
There it was.
The narrowing of her eyes. The realization.
Thenâ
"Oh."
Again. Much worse.
Your mother looked between the two of you.
"Oh."
You groaned.
"Dad."
Your father hadn't said a word, which was terrifying. Finally he leaned back.
"How old are you, son?"
You wanted to die. Immediately.
Aaron somehow remained composed.
"Forty-two."
Your father looked at you. Then at Aaron. Then back again.
Your mother cleared her throat.
"You know our daughter isâ"
"Thirty."
Aaron answered calmly. Your parents blinked. Aaron looked completely unbothered.
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then your father crossed his arms.
"And that doesn't concern you?"
You nearly dove through a window. Instead Aaron surprised everyone. Including you.
"It did."
The honesty caught your parents off guard. Aaron glanced toward you, his expression softening.
"It still does sometimes."
"Why?" your father asked.
Aaron smiled faintly.
"Because I care about her."
The table fell silent.
"I never wanted her to feel pressured."
He spoke calmly, not trying to impress anyone. Simply telling the truth.
"And more than capable of deciding what she wants."
Something warm spread through your chest. Because that was the difference.
Your ex had always talked about you.
Aaron talked about your choices. Your independence. Your agency.
Your father seemed to notice too.
"Most men who say they're protective of a woman mean they want to make decisions for her."
Aaron nodded.
"I know."
"And you don't?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
"I'd stand between her and anyone who tried to hurt her."
His gaze found yours.
"But her life is hers."
You swallowed hard.
"If she tells me no, it's no. If she tells me she's fine, I trust her."
Your mother looked suspiciously emotional.
"And if she asks for help?"
Aaron smiled.
The small, genuine smile.
"The world would have to move first."
You laughed, but the words triggered something unexpected.
Because everyone kept talking about Aaron protecting you.
And suddenly you realized he already did.
Every day. For years.
An armed suspect in Baltimore. Aaron stepping in front of you before you'd even registered the threat.
A hostage situation in Virginia. His hand pushing you behind him as a weapon appeared.
A raid in Chicago. Gunfire. Chaos. Aaron's arm across your chest, holding you back while he moved first.
You had always assumed it was leadership. Now you weren't so sure.
You nearly stopped breathing.
Your father stared at him for a long moment. Then suddenly laughed.
"What?"
He shook his head.
"I've spent ten minutes trying to figure out if you're pretending."
Aaron looked confused.
"Pretending?"
"To be this gone over my daughter."
You immediately covered your face.
"Oh my God."
Your mother laughed. Aaron looked vaguely horrified. Which somehow confirmed everything.
Because Aaron Hotchner could stare down serial killers.
But discussing his feelings? Absolutely not.
Your father grinned.
"I've never met a man who looks at her the way you do."
Aaron looked genuinely trapped.
"I don't know what you mean."
The entire table laughed.
"You absolutely do."
Your mother reached over and squeezed his hand. A gesture that visibly surprised him.
"Thank you."
Aaron blinked.
"For what?"
"For making her smile again."
The table grew quiet.
"We haven't seen that smile in years."
Emotion flashed across Aaron's face. Gone almost instantly. But not before everyone saw it.
Love.
Your father saw it too. The suspicion disappeared from his expression. Replaced by understanding.
He leaned forward.
"One piece of advice."
Aaron nodded.
"If anyone at this wedding bothers my daughter..."
Aaron's expression sharpened immediately.
"...make them regret it."
For the first time all evening, Aaron smiled.
Not the soft smile he gave you.
The profiler smile.
"Yes, sir."
Your mother sighed dramatically. Before anyone could say more, a familiar voice interrupted.
"Excellent."
You groaned.
Rossi. Of course.
He dropped into the empty chair beside Aaron.
"If we're forming a protective detail, I'd like my name added to the list."
Your father laughed.
"And you are...?"
"David Rossi. Friend, co-worker, bestselling author. And your daughter is like a granddaughter to me, if you dont mind putting it that way."
"Weren't you like a groom's distant family?" you asked, raising your brow at him.
"Yes, I am."
"Then be distant, please"
Rossi smiled, ignoring your comment, then pointed at Aaron.
"Let me assure you. Aaron becomes frightening, when it comes to anyone he cares about."
Hotch sighed.
"And Dave becomes annoying."Â
"Creative," Rossi corrected.
"Dangerously creative." you said under your breath. Your mother laughed into her wine.
"For the record, if anybody hurts her, Aaron will profile them. But not the matter of fact way. The I-don't-want-to-know-what-he-can-do-with-it way."
Aaron rubbed a hand over his face.
"And you, David?" your father asked, briefly looking at you, before he focused back on your boss and colleague.
Rossi grinned.
"I'll add some decades long creativity to it."
The three men exchanged a look that made you deeply concerned.
Your mother noticed it too.
"Oh dear."
"What?" your father asked.
She pointed between the three men.
"Now there are three of them."
The wedding arrived.
You stared at yourself in the hotel mirror. The bridesmaid dress was stunning. And completely unfair.
The fitted fabric hugged every curve. The slit exposed one toned leg. The neckline somehow managed to be elegant and dangerous simultaneously.
You felt beautiful.
Which was unfortunate because Aaron was about to see it.
A knock sounded. Your heart immediately betrayed you.
You opened the door.
And forgot how breathing worked.
Aaron stood there in a black suit. Broad shoulders. Perfectly tailored jacket. Tie.
The whole devastating package.
For several seconds neither of you spoke. His eyes moved over you. Then froze. Then moved back.
The faintest hint of color appeared in his cheeks.
Aaron Hotchner.
Blushing.
You nearly died.
"You okay?" you asked.
He cleared his throat.
"Yes."
Pause.
"You look beautiful."
The sincerity nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.
The chapel was already filling with guests. You had almost convinced yourself you could survive this.
Then your ex walked through the doors. Your stomach dropped instantly. Years disappeared.
The confidence. The smile. The arrogance.
You recognized it all.
And apparently Aaron recognized your reaction. Because he looked up from across the room immediately. The warmth vanished from his expression. Replaced by something colder. More dangerous.
You watched him study your ex.
Evaluating. Assessing. Profiling.
Then Aaron crossed the room. Without a word he took the seat beside you. His shoulder brushed yours.
Solid. Steady. Safe.
"You okay?" he murmured.
You nodded.
A lie.
Aaron knew it was a lie. He didn't push. Instead he subtly shifted.
Just enough that your ex's direct line of sight to you disappeared. Now the man had to look directly at Aaron instead.
Your ex visibly hesitated.
Good.
The ceremony itself was beautiful.
Your sister cried. Her husband cried. Half the audience cried. You cried.
Mostly because every time anxiety started creeping in, Aaron's hand quietly found yours.
His thumb brushed your knuckles. A silent reminder.
I'm here.
At one point your ex glanced toward you only to find Aaron already looking back. The man immediately looked elsewhere. You nearly laughed.
The reception began. You sat at your table next to Aaron, slipping a glass of champagne.
"Are you profiling the guests?" You asked looking at your fake boyfriend with a small smile.
His eyes stayed forward.
"Yes."
"Aaron."
"One of the bridesmaids hates the maid of honor."
You nearly snorted.
"What?"
"Table seven is having an affair."
"Oh my God."
"The groom's uncle stole something once."
"You can't know that."
Aaron finally looked down at you.
"I absolutely know that."
For a while things were actually enjoyable.
You danced. You laughed. You forgot to be afraid. You actually enjoyed yourself.
And then Rossi arrived.
Unfortunately.
"Interesting."
You immediately groaned.
Rossi looked between you and Aaron. Then smiled. The smile of a man about to become unbearable.
"I've seen hostage negotiations with less tension."
Aaron closed his eyes.
"Dave."
"You know," Rossi continued, "for two people pretending to date, you're doing an exceptional impression of two people desperately in love."
You choked. Aaron nearly did the same.
Rossi looked delighted.
Later, the music softened into something slower. The kind of song that made conversations fade and the room seem smaller.
You were halfway through explaining to your cousin why you absolutely did not need another glass of champagne when Aaron appeared beside you.
"You disappeared."
You looked up.
"So did you."
"I was making sure Rossi wasn't teaching your nephews how to pick locks."
You laughed.
"Valid concern."
His gaze lingered on your face for a second. Then he held out his hand.
"Dance with me."
You blinked.
That wasn't really a request. Not because he sounded demanding. Because Aaron only asked when he already knew the answer mattered.
"You dance?" you asked.
A faint smile appeared.
"I can."
"That's not what I asked."
"It's the answer you're getting."
You laughed and let him lead you onto the dance floor. The second his hand settled at your waist, some of the tension you'd been carrying all day eased without permission.
Aaron noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
He didn't comment on it.
Just adjusted his hold slightly, steady and secure. The dance floor wasn't crowded. Couples moved around them in slow circles beneath strings of warm lights.
For once, nobody needed anything from either of you.
No cases. No reports. No emergencies.
Just music.
"You seem calmer," Aaron said quietly.
You looked down at your joined hands.
"I think I forgot I was supposed to be nervous."
His thumb brushed lightly against your hand.
"Good."
Something about that simple response made your chest ache. Because he wasn't taking credit. Wasn't asking for reassurance. He just sounded relieved.
You glanced up.
"You've been watching me all day, haven't you?"
Aaron didn't even attempt to deny it.
"Yes."
The honesty made you laugh.
"Hotch."
"I was making sure you were okay."
The answer came so naturally it almost stole your breath. Not because it was surprising. Because it wasn't. That was what he always did. The realization settled over you with unexpected warmth.
Aaron guided you through another turn.
Not flashy.
Not complicated.
Just steady.
Reliable.
Like everything else about him.
"You know," you said softly, "most people would be enjoying the wedding."
"I am."
You raised an eyebrow.
"You are?"
His eyes met yours. For a moment the noise of the room seemed to disappear.
"Yes."
The answer was quiet. Certain.
And somehow it felt like it meant more than it should. Your heart stumbled.
Aaron must have noticed the shift in your expression because his gaze softened.
Immediately. The way it always did with you. Without thinking, you stepped a little closer. His hand remained at your waist.
Solid. Warm. Safe.
The song continued around you, but you barely heard it anymore.
For one brief moment, surrounded by family, music, and fairy lights, the fear that had followed you to the wedding finally loosened its grip.
Not because your ex was gone. Not because the memories had disappeared. But because Aaron was there.
And somehow, whenever he was there, carrying things alone didn't seem quite so necessary.
The disaster arrived later. You had stepped away toward the bar when your ex intercepted you. Again.
"Look at you."
You rolled your eyes immediately. He caught it anyway. His smile tightened, like it had miscalculated its own charm.
"Your boyfriend seems old."
You laughed once. Clean. Unbothered.
That was the mistake.
"Still doing this?" you said.
"Doing what?"
"Trying to make women feel insecure because you're insecure."
Before he could escalate, Aaron appeared.
Not entering the conversation.
Closing it.
Aaron didnât look surprised to find you there. He looked like someone who had already reviewed the situation internally and was now simply confirming details.
"Everything alright?" He asked you first.
Not him.
That detail landed immediately.
Your ex scoffed. "Weâre having a private conversation."
Aaronâs gaze shifted to him.
There was no hostility in it. That somehow made it worse.
"Interesting," Aaron said.
"Whatâs that supposed to mean?"
"It means you keep using words that donât apply to your behavior."
A few guests nearby stopped pretending not to listen.
Your ex straightened. "I wasnât cornering anyone."
Aaron nodded slightly.
"As an interpretation," he said, "that would require a significant degree of self-deception."
Your ex bristled. "Who do you think you are?"
That was when Aaron finally let the answer land fully.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just precisely.
"Special Agent Aaron Hotchner," he said. âUnit Chief of FBI Behavioral Department"
The words changed the air.
Even people who hadnât been paying attention were now paying attention.
Aaronâs voice stayed level.
"And you are currently addressing another FBI agent and my partner in a way Iâve already determined is at least inappropriate."
A pause.
"You should understand something very clearly. I donât escalate quickly. I donât need to. But I do finish what I start."
Your ex blinked. "What does that even mean?"
"It means," Aaron said, "that you are not the first person Iâve seen mistake persistence for entitlement. And you will not be the first to learn the difference the hard way."
From across the room, your father had gone still, watching now with full understanding.
Not alarm. Relief.
Rossi arrived like he had been there the entire time.
He took in the scene, then exhaled a soft laugh.
"Oh! The ex," he said.
Your ex turned. "And you are?"
Rossi smiled faintly.
"Special Agent David Rossi. Someone whoâs been called in when people donât respond to social correction," he said. "I strongly recommend you prefer social correction."
A sip of wine.
"Because when it moves beyond that, it stops being a conversation entirely."
Your ex looked between them, anger trying to reassert itself and failing.
"Youâre threatening me in public?"
Aaron shook his head once.
"No," he said calmly. "Youâre being informed of how boundaries work when theyâre enforced."
Then, a beat.
"Even if that mean more paperwork for me afterwards."
Rossi added lightly, almost conversational:
"And if support is needed, Iâm available."
Not as a threat. As confirmation that this wasnât a one-person warning.
That was the shift.
Not fear.
Finality.
Your exâs confidence didnât just dropâit collapsed into something smaller and panicked.
He stepped back.
Once.
Twice.
Then he was gone.
Rossi took another sip.
"Always the same outcome," he murmured. "They runaway before I can have more fun."
Aaron didnât watch him leave. The moment the threat was gone, his attention was already back on you.
You didnât realize you were shaking until the adrenaline started to crash all at once.
Aaron noticed immediately. Of course he did.
His hand came to your waist firstâsteady, grounding, instinctive.
"You alright?"
You nodded.
A lie.
And for once, Aaron didnât call you on it immediately. Not with words.
Because then your composure finally broke.
It wasnât dramatic. Just quiet. Sudden. Like something inside you had been holding its breath too long and finally let go.
Your eyes stung. Then blurred. Then the tears came before you could stop them.
âIâm fine,â you tried anyway, voice breaking halfway through.
That did it.
Aaronâs expression changedânot into alarm, not into urgencyâbut something far softer. Controlled concern, tempered by certainty. Like he already knew exactly what this was.
He guided you gently away from the crowd, one hand at your back, the other still holding your arm as if anchoring you to the present.
âHey,â he said quietly.
Just that.
You shook your head, embarrassed, trying to breathe through it.
âI hate that he can stillâ I hate that he can still do that to me.â
âI know,â Aaron said.
No correction. No minimising. Just acceptance.
That alone made your throat tighten harder.
A few seconds passed with nothing but the noise of the reception fading behind you.
Then Aaron lifted a hand and gently brushed your tears away with his thumb. Slow. Careful. Like you werenât something fragile, but something worth handling with care.
âYouâre safe,â he said.
Your breath hitched.
âIâm here,â he added quietly.
And then, as if it wasnât even a decision so much as an instinct heâd stopped resisting, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
Soft. Anchoring. Protective in a way that didnât ask anything of you.
Your eyes closed immediately. Like your body understood before your mind caught up.
The noise of the room behind you faded further.
For a moment, there was just him.
When he pulled back, his hand lingered at your temple.
âYouâre okay,â he murmured again, firmer this time. Not a question anymore. A statement he was choosing to make true for you until you could believe it yourself.
And something in your chest finally unclenched. Just slightly.
Not healed. Not fixed.
But held.
Hours later the reception was winding down.
Your shoes were gone. Aaron's tie was loosened. The fairy lights above cast everything in gold.
You stood together outside.
Alone.
Finally.
"You were very convincing today."
Aaron smiled slightly.
"The boyfriend thing?"
"Yeah."
"You think so?"
"I think half the wedding believes we're engaged."
That earned an actual laugh.
A rare one. Beautiful. Dangerous.
Then silence settled and something changed.
Aaron looked at you. Really looked at you. The way he'd been trying not to all day.
"You deserve better than him."
Your heart skipped.
"You deserve someone who makes you feel safe."
"Hotch..."
"You deserve someone who loves you."
The world stopped.
His voice softened.
"I've been in love with you for a long time."
Everything inside you shattered. In the best possible way. You smiled through sudden tears.
"Good."
His eyebrows lifted.
"Good?"
"Because I've been in love with you too."
The relief on his face was breathtaking. For a moment neither of you moved. Then his hand cupped your cheek.
Gentle. Careful.
As though you were something precious.
"Can I kiss you?"
You laughed softly.
"Please."
The kiss was everything.
Slow. Tender. Years of restraint finally giving way.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
Safe. Loved. Home.
Behind you, Rossi's voice suddenly echoed across the courtyard.
"I KNEW IT!"
Aaron sighed. You burst out laughing.
And for the first time all weekend, neither of you cared who saw.
Summary: Bucky had never met someone quite as relentless as you. Youâd been after him for months, always demanding answers for some thing you were writing on whatever topic. He didnât care about specifics. Bucky had never seen you but he did turn you down each time on the phone. After all, he was a busy man. He didnât have time for some random reporter or her random article. And you knew he would never give you the time of day if you just keep asking politely. So you played by his rules â laid a harmless little trap and waited until he fell in it perfectly. Oblivious, unguarded, and unsuspecting. Or was heâŠ?Â
Themes: smut, explicit language, mob!bucky, reporter!reader, mild degrading kink, praise kink, soft!dom!bucky, spicy photography (??? idk how to tag it), buckyâs a bit of a dick in this lowkey but we love him, mild daddy kink
Was it wrong of you to con your way into one of his clubs, pretending to be one of his girls, all just to get answers you needed out of him for an article you were writing?Â
Maybe.Â
But his world was full of cons, thieves, liars, criminals and bad, bad people. Your little lies, and cunning little plan was nothing compared to what he did.Â
Bucky Barnes. Who didnât know him? He was everything. A terrible man to some. A benevolent anti-hero to others. He gave back to the people, he protected his territory and all those living within it. He was ruthless to his enemies. But most of all, Bucky Barnes was untouchable.Â
Well. Untouchable to most.Â
To you, as you sat on his lap, he wasnât. In fact, to play your part well and make it as believable as you could, you couldnât stop touching him all over. His neck, down the bit of skin on his chest that was left exposed by his undone top buttons, up and down his arms where you could feel the muscles beneath the fabric of his black shirt, down his torso and stopping right at the buckle of his ridiculously expensive belt.Â
Bucky, as you had planned, mistook you for just another one of the many girls at his club who was desperate for the bossâ attention. And all it took was a coy look, and a shy smile earlier that evening and Bucky folded.Â
Typical. Men, no matter how powerful, were always so easy. You kept your smirk to yourself, partially hiding your face into the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent. Buckyâs metal hand drew mindless shapes all over your exposed thigh while he answered a work related phone call. Your hands roamed all over him too, but you held on to every word he spoke. Youâd need it after all, for your article.Â
So far you had gathered that he was sort of stressed out over some shipment. You didnât know what it was yet, or where it was coming from. And the unanswered questions were killing you.Â
When he finally ended the phone call, you couldnât help but ask, âWhatâs stressing you out so much?â You kept your voice steady, making sure to sound barely interested at all. Which was hard because nothing professional had ever required this much acting before. But also, his touch was distracting. Youâd be lying if you said you didnât have goosebumps all over your body each time his metal hand caressed your warm skin.Â
Bucky sighed. You finally looked up at him. He was a gorgeous man. Terrible he might be, but Bucky Barnes was as beautiful as an angel. The pictures they posted of him online, or on the news, didn't do him justice. He was so⊠perfect.Â
Even his beauty was distracting. But you forced yourself to pay attention the moment he began talking.Â
âJust⊠work.â He groaned, his hands pulling you closer, placing you right on top of his crotch. âYou know how it is sometimes.â He looked at you with those cool, gentle, but deep blue eyes. âDonât you, pretty girl? Hmm?â He tilted his head to the side, looking at you curiously. A simple movement. It shouldnât have made your heart skip a beat like it did.Â
âMhmm.â You traced a finger down his cheek as a distraction. âSomething about some shipment I overheard. Whatâs that about?â You ran your fingertip along his lower lip mindlessly.Â
Bucky smirked. âSome people are being difficult, doll. Theyâre refusing to give me what I paid for well in advance.â His hands grabbed you by the thighs, pressing you further into him. âCanât have that now, can we?âÂ
You smiled, unconsciously leaning into him a little more. âNo.â You answered, leaning further in and brushing the tip of your nose with his. âBut like, what shipment are we talking about? Weapons and stuff? Where is it coming from?âÂ
You tried your hardest to sound dumb and uninterested, but you werenât convincing enough apparently.
Because Bucky wrapped his metal arm around your waist, making sure there was no escape, and chuckled.Â
Your body froze as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to yours, âYou know, youâre not as subtle as youâre desperately trying to be.â He whispered. âDid you think I didnât figure who you were the moment I saw you in my club, little miss reporter?â Bucky laughed.Â
Shit.Â
You gasped when the shock wore off. You tried to get off his lap but he didnât let you.Â
âAh. Donât you dare run.â He warned, staring deep into your eyes as your struggle slowly died down. âNow that you have me exactly where you wanted me, you have nothing to ask?âÂ
Your heart was racing. But then again, if he wanted you dead youâd be dead already.Â
Fine. No running.Â
âWhy did you play along?â You asked, mentally trying to find the quickest way out. If needed.Â
He smirked again. âYou looked so adorable trying to blend in here.â He leaned in and whispered into your ear, âLike an eager little puppy, trying to get my attention.â He pulled away to watch your reaction. He liked how you squirmed in embarrassment. Right on top of his crotch too. âKeep moving like that, and you might just get what you came for.âÂ
âWhat?â Another soft gasp escaped your mouth. âI didnâtââÂ
âReally?â He cut you off. âYou donât want anything? Is that why you wore a matching set under this very see-through dress to come and see me? Hmm?â He looked so smug. Pure male arrogance.Â
It shouldâve pissed you off. But it didnât. It suited him so well, all that arrogance as he sat there manspreading on the couch in his dimly lit office, with you barely clothed on his lap.Â
You squirmed again, trying to get out of his ridiculously warm and comfortable embrace. âIâll go.â You said. âI wonât bother you anymore.âÂ
Bucky chuckled. âOh no we canât have that. It took so much work to get here. Tricked my guards, made friends with the girls who work here, you worked so fucking hard to get my attention. Now you wanna leave? Absolutely not.âÂ
âWellâ,â You began arguing, then you stopped upon realising that this wasnât a regular man. He was actually a very dangerous criminal. He could have you killed, and buried with no trace left behind if he wanted to. âPlease.âÂ
He mustâve picked up on it. Judging by the way your body tensed up. âI wonât hurt you.â He said, letting his warm hand drop to your exposed thigh. He caressed your skin. âDonât be scared.â Then he looked down and smirked. âAnd if you would stop grinding on me maybe we could talk about that little article youâre writing.âÂ
Damn it.Â
You tried to pull away again, but Bucky caught you just in time. âCome on, doll.â He was having too much fun. You could tell. âBe a good girl and sit still. I wonât hurt you.âÂ
You remained still. Just as he asked.Â
âNow,â He sighed, âCan we talk? Hmm? Wanna tell me what youâre working on?â His fingers didnât stop caressing your skin. And his touch felt⊠oddly calming in a way that only familiar touches feel. Seeing you werenât answering, he added, âCome on, baby. Talk to me.âÂ
And that low, deep voice of his made you tremble.Â
âI⊠I need that article.â You sighed, âI want to be taken more seriously. At work. I mean, I want my articles to be taken more seriously.â You blinked, trying your hardest to make sense. âAnd you, well, nobody dares to write in depth about you or what you truly do, soâŠâ You took a deep breath. âI figured if I do, then maybe it would beâ that maybe I would be noticed.â You kept your head lowered, unable to understand how you managed to get that real and vulnerable around him.Â
He was a stranger.Â
Or, maybe not. Youâd been researching him for months now. Maybe your brain got so used to him that opening up was no big deal. Perhaps it was also because you realised he wasnât gonna hurt you. Either way you surprised yourself by being truly honest.Â
Bucky was quiet. Maybe thinking. After a long pause he asked, âAre you lying?âÂ
You looked up immediately, finding yourself staring into glacier eyes. âNo. Why would I lie?âÂ
His metal slowly travelled up your body, from your thigh, up your torso, until he slowly wrapped his fingers around your throat. It was supposed to be a menacing move, threatening. But it wasnât. It was just as grounding, mind-melting, and intense as his stare.Â
âIf I find out youâre lying, or youâre some kind of spy sent to me in a pretty little package⊠baby, Iâm not gonna be so nice. You hear me?âÂ
You nodded, suddenly under a trance. âIâm not lying. Look, I get it. I shouldnât have done this. Iâll go, I promise. Youâll never hear from me or see me ever again.âÂ
Bucky faked a pout. Almost like he was mocking you. âNow, when did I say I wanted you gone? Huh?â His pout slowly turned into that feline smirk he always had in most of his pictures in the tabloids or in the newspapers. âI think I know why youâre here. And it has almost nothing to do with your article.âÂ
Huh. That caught your attention. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âI think youâre here for answers.â He stated, like he was having the most casual conversation with someone. âBut not for your writing. I think youâre here for yourself. Because youâre curious. Because you secretly like my world.âÂ
âI⊠I do not.â You were quick to say. Sounding almost offended.Â
Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, again in that mocking manner. âOh? So all those months of stalking me was for what? You want me to believe it was for some random article?â He scoffed. âYou couldâve written whatever you wanted, people wouldâve believed it like they do everything else in the news. But why the thorough research, huh? Why the scheming and pretending? Why take such a huge risk?âÂ
His metal hand unwrapped itself from around your throat, and he slid it so easily in between your bodies, cupping you down there, letting his fingers press against your throbbing clit. You gasped in surprise, but you didnât move an inch to get away.Â
Buckyâs smirk grew. âYou see.â He moved his fingers gently, teasing you through your thin lingerie. âThis is what you wanted, wasnât it? You wanted me.âÂ
Your heartbeats quickened when he easily slid your underwear to the side and touched you properly with slow teasing strokes. Cold metal fingers against your heated skin. âThatâs notâŠâ You held back a moan, âTrue.âÂ
Bucky was having too much fun watching you gasp, and trying your hardest to not moan, or to not grind against his fingers. He didnât remember the last time he had such genuine desire to make a girl lose control. Usually the women he slept with did everything they could to please him. It was almost never the other way around.Â
But you⊠oh. This was going to be a fun night, he thought.Â
âAre you going to write about this?â He asked, gently sliding a finger inside you. He loved how you trembled. âHmm?â He leaned closer, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he slid another finger in, slowly fucking you with them. âAre you going to write about how good my fingers feel inside you?âÂ
Your hands instinctively found their way around his neck, you held onto him as he touched you like he had all the time in the world to play with your body and earn your reactions. And you simply let him.Â
âLook at you.â He taunted, noticing the little movements you did with your hips in desperation. âYou really did your best to try and blend in, huh? You even got this little see-through number on.â He chuckled. âBut the expensive lingerie under it gives you away, baby. Girls in this part of the city donât wear nice things like this.âÂ
That comment made you mad for some reason. You found yourself frowning at him and asking, âHow theâ fuck, oh my god,â You cried out when he slid his fingers deeper, âHow the hell do you know if itâs expensive lingerie or not?âÂ
He gave you a smug, boyish grin. âIâve taken enough off to know.âÂ
You gasped, both in pleasure and disbelief. âYouâre disgusting.â You managed to whisper.Â
He laughed. âAnd look at you, loving it.âÂ
You opened your mouth to sass back, but he shut you up by abruptly sliding his fingers out of you and shoving them into your open mouth. You barely registered as it happened. Your brain only caught up when he began talking again.Â
âDo you feel disgusting now?â He asked, his voice as triumphant as always. âHave I spoiled you? Hmm? Did my touch make you dirty?â He kept his eyes on yours, knowing damn well your pussy was begging for his touch.Â
Hell, you wouldâve begged him if he didnât have his fingers into your mouth.Â
âYou donât belong in my world.â He stated, moving his fingers gently along your tongue. âYouâre too⊠clean. Too tidy and nice.â He said it like it was an insult. âBut you want it, donât you? To belong? Here?âÂ
You kept that soft suction on his fingers as you nodded.Â
He smiled. A genuine, proud smile. âYeah? You want daddy to make you one of his girls?âÂ
You nodded again, this time whimpering as he pulled his fingers back and out of your mouth. Leaving you empty and throbbing and fucking desperate.Â
âNow, be daddyâs good girl and take all that off.âÂ
You moved immediately, delirious with anticipation and pleasure. And within the next few seconds, you were off the couch, off his lap, and stripping. You didnât bother to put on a show either. Bucky preferred that. The whole performative stripping was getting boring.Â
Once done, he guided you back over on his lap. âGood girl.â He murmured, looking up at you with those blue gorgeous eyes. His hands continued exploring your body, now bare. And he was shameless. Touching everything, everywhere. His hands, warm and cold all over your body.Â
âYouâre beautiful, you know that?â He whispered along your collar bones, kissing and licking your skin. âAnd you smell so fucking good.â You inched closer to him, rubbing your crotch against his clothed but erected cock, making yourself gasp and moan.Â
Bucky just chuckled at your impatience.Â
âI should be kicking you out.â He said. âI should have a couple of my guys keep an eye on you and make sure you never bother me again. But I canât.â He tightened his grip on your waist just a little and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling your neck again. âHow can I when you look so fucking good and fit so perfectly on my lap?âÂ
You couldnât help but whisper, âPleaseâŠâÂ
âPlease what?â He smirked against your skin. âWhat do you want, baby?â He wrapped his arms around you, grounding you on his clothed cock in the process, âMy fingers again?â He reached up to grab the back of your neck, tilting your head back so he could kiss and whisper against your skin, âOr my cock?âÂ
Would it be wrong to admit that you wanted him? Desperately. Shamelessly. You wanted him, all of him. You wanted his warm, muscular body pressed up against you while he fucked the brains out of you.Â
âYour cock, please.â You begged, gasping for breath already as he playfully bit your throat. You didnât remember the last time a man had you this hot and bothered.Â
He chuckled, letting his hand rest at your butt, bringing your body closer to his. âWell then you have to work for it, doll.â He said, amused. âI love a woman who goes for what she wants.â He confessed. âYou worked so hard to get here, didnât you? Well go on then, work some more. Take my cock out and put it in you.â He said, then leaned back to watch you.Â
He was so fucking mean. It only turned you on even more.Â
Now what? Heâs just gonna sit there and watch. How borderline humiliating. Damn him.Â
But you were needy enough that you didnât have time for shame.Â
Bucky carefully watched each one of your moves. The desperation in your eyes, how your eager, trembling hands rapidly undid his pants to free his throbbing cock. He smirked, radiating pure male confidence when he caught the way you whimpered under your breath at the sight of him.Â
You lifted your eyes up, staring into his as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking his veiny cock, making him groan under his breath. âI said put it inside you, doll.âÂ
You whimpered helplessly as you did, lifting your body off of his lap and aligning the tip of his cock to your hole and then slowly, slowly sinking down on him. You moaned, watching his cock disappear inside of you. Filling you up.Â
âCome here,â He growled once he was nice and deep inside your warm, wet hole. Grabbing you by the throat, Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you hungrily. Growling into your mouth about how good it felt to be inside you, âGood job. Look how pretty you look, filled with my cock. Do you realise how pretty you look?âÂ
You said nothing back. You just focused on breathing and feeling.Â
âCome on,â Bucky struggled to hold back. He wanted nothing more than to just fuck. But he needed to tease you a little more. âDonât you wanna remember this? For when you write your article, huh? Give me your phone.âÂ
That part confused you. âWhat?â You cried out.Â
Bucky chuckled. âWhereâs your phone, huh?â He looked around, and it was discarded and long forgotten in a corner of the couch. He reached for it and immediately opened your camera. âI want you to remember every detail. It might help with your writing.â He angled the camera down, neither of your faces visible but your bodies⊠oh it was a sight.Â
Your body pressed up against his. Him fully clothed but you were completely naked, with his cock buried deep inside you. You whimpered and hid your face into his neck as Bucky clicked multiple pics.Â
âAww, what? Now youâre shy?â He taunted. âWhat about when you had plans to seduce me and get info out of me earlier, huh? You didnât seem so shy when you basically threw yourself at me.âÂ
You melted, immediately grinding your hips against his, desperate for some friction. For any kind of movement. Just needy.Â
âPleaseâŠâÂ
He tossed your phone aside carelessly. His hands grabbed you by the hips as he carefully helped you lift your lower body up and then slowly, lowering you down his cock again.Â
âThat feels good, doesnât it, doll?â He sounded different. Rougher.Â
You nodded, looking down to see where your bodies connected and the sight of it, of his cock stretching you out was just sinful.Â
âYou feel perfect, you know that?â Bucky grabbed and held your hips in place, gently thrusting his hips up, making you moan as he filled you up, âJust a perfect girl for me, arenât you?âÂ
Bucky leaned in to kiss your open mouth. His kiss was punishing, while he moved your body gently, rocking you back and forth on his cock to get you to get used to the girth of him. His cock throbbed against your walls, causing the tiniest bit of friction which drove you insane and turned you into a teary, mumbling mess.Â
âPlease, please, pleaseâŠâ You pleaded.Â
âAww baby, what is it? Is it too much? Hmm?â He teased, placing his thumb against your clit and rubbing it slowly while still moving your hips back and forth. âBut isnât this what you wanted? When you dragged me all the way here earlier, whispering dirty secrets in my ear⊠wasnât this what you had in mind?âÂ
You looked into his eyes with your teary ones.Â
Bucky smirked, âPoor baby, so hungry for cock. Isnât she?â He let go of your hips, no longer helping you to move. âYou were willing to fuck me and get what you wanted out of me for the sake of your little article, werenât you? Go on then, take what you want. And make it good for me.âÂ
You lifted your lower body slightly, before sliding back down on his cock. Now that he wasnât helping you, it was way harder than earlier. You struggled to make him fit for a moment.Â
You whimpered and he groaned once he fit snug inside of you again. The tip of his cock reaching sensitive places you never knew existed. And suddenly, you never wanted to be empty ever again. You wanted to stay there forever on his lap.Â
âThatâs good, baby.â Bucky murmured, caressing your thigh. âFuck.â He swore. âWith a cunt that good you could get whatever you want out of me.â He chuckled to himself, âIâll fucking write your article myself.âÂ
You looked right at him as you began riding his cock as best as you could before you finally found the right pace and rhythm. His words gave you the confidence you needed to move faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time, whimpering shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely with each thrust.Â
âThatâs it. Take it, take all of me in that tight, perfect little cuntâŠâ He whispered as he leaned in, biting down and tugging at your bottom lip while you sped up, his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up.
His hand circled around your waist, his muscular arms caging you in and he pulled your warm body closer to his. You were nothing but a moaning mess at this point.Â
âThis is all you wanted, wasnât it?â He asked breathlessly, teasing you while you rode him. âAll those months of endless calls and emails, research, and this is all you wanted. I know that look in your eyes, that pleading look, those fuck-me eyes. This is how you wanna be treated, huh? Like a dirty little whore all for me to use?âÂ
Even his taunts were hot.Â
You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his ocean blue eyes. Guess you hadnât been that subtle after all.Â
Bucky held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock, throwing his head back and growling in pleasure.Â
âYou feel so fucking good, babyâŠâ He tried to contain his grunts, âOh fuck, Iâm gonna need this all the time now. And youâll give it to me, wonât you? Youâll be daddyâs good girl and every time I ask you to bring this cunt over so I can fuck it, or taste it, or both, youâll do it wonât you, baby?âÂ
âYes,â You whined, nodding helplessly. âYes, I will.âÂ
He chuckled, kissing down your neck and whispering against your skin about how perfect you felt around him. He panted against your skin, kissing you all over, âAll mine now, you hear me? All fucking mine.âÂ
âYesâŠâ
You didnât slow down when you felt your orgasm wash over you, and Bucky kept thrusting his hips up into you even as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came.
âOh fuck!â You cried out, your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone, all that pressure exploding in a hot, satisfying way.Â
Bucky came right after you, pulling out just in time, his cum spilling all over your thighs as he kept his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to his.Â
âI think we should have more meetings like this. To discuss your article, of course.âÂ
You nodded. And you knew, deep down, no matter the excuse you would keep coming back. Whenever he wanted you to.
Summary: Bucky had never met someone quite as relentless as you. Youâd been after him for months, always demanding answers for some thing you were writing on whatever topic. He didnât care about specifics. Bucky had never seen you but he did turn you down each time on the phone. After all, he was a busy man. He didnât have time for some random reporter or her random article. And you knew he would never give you the time of day if you just keep asking politely. So you played by his rules â laid a harmless little trap and waited until he fell in it perfectly. Oblivious, unguarded, and unsuspecting. Or was heâŠ?Â
Themes: smut, explicit language, mob!bucky, reporter!reader, mild degrading kink, praise kink, soft!dom!bucky, spicy photography (??? idk how to tag it), buckyâs a bit of a dick in this lowkey but we love him, mild daddy kink
Was it wrong of you to con your way into one of his clubs, pretending to be one of his girls, all just to get answers you needed out of him for an article you were writing?Â
Maybe.Â
But his world was full of cons, thieves, liars, criminals and bad, bad people. Your little lies, and cunning little plan was nothing compared to what he did.Â
Bucky Barnes. Who didnât know him? He was everything. A terrible man to some. A benevolent anti-hero to others. He gave back to the people, he protected his territory and all those living within it. He was ruthless to his enemies. But most of all, Bucky Barnes was untouchable.Â
Well. Untouchable to most.Â
To you, as you sat on his lap, he wasnât. In fact, to play your part well and make it as believable as you could, you couldnât stop touching him all over. His neck, down the bit of skin on his chest that was left exposed by his undone top buttons, up and down his arms where you could feel the muscles beneath the fabric of his black shirt, down his torso and stopping right at the buckle of his ridiculously expensive belt.Â
Bucky, as you had planned, mistook you for just another one of the many girls at his club who was desperate for the bossâ attention. And all it took was a coy look, and a shy smile earlier that evening and Bucky folded.Â
Typical. Men, no matter how powerful, were always so easy. You kept your smirk to yourself, partially hiding your face into the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent. Buckyâs metal hand drew mindless shapes all over your exposed thigh while he answered a work related phone call. Your hands roamed all over him too, but you held on to every word he spoke. Youâd need it after all, for your article.Â
So far you had gathered that he was sort of stressed out over some shipment. You didnât know what it was yet, or where it was coming from. And the unanswered questions were killing you.Â
When he finally ended the phone call, you couldnât help but ask, âWhatâs stressing you out so much?â You kept your voice steady, making sure to sound barely interested at all. Which was hard because nothing professional had ever required this much acting before. But also, his touch was distracting. Youâd be lying if you said you didnât have goosebumps all over your body each time his metal hand caressed your warm skin.Â
Bucky sighed. You finally looked up at him. He was a gorgeous man. Terrible he might be, but Bucky Barnes was as beautiful as an angel. The pictures they posted of him online, or on the news, didn't do him justice. He was so⊠perfect.Â
Even his beauty was distracting. But you forced yourself to pay attention the moment he began talking.Â
âJust⊠work.â He groaned, his hands pulling you closer, placing you right on top of his crotch. âYou know how it is sometimes.â He looked at you with those cool, gentle, but deep blue eyes. âDonât you, pretty girl? Hmm?â He tilted his head to the side, looking at you curiously. A simple movement. It shouldnât have made your heart skip a beat like it did.Â
âMhmm.â You traced a finger down his cheek as a distraction. âSomething about some shipment I overheard. Whatâs that about?â You ran your fingertip along his lower lip mindlessly.Â
Bucky smirked. âSome people are being difficult, doll. Theyâre refusing to give me what I paid for well in advance.â His hands grabbed you by the thighs, pressing you further into him. âCanât have that now, can we?âÂ
You smiled, unconsciously leaning into him a little more. âNo.â You answered, leaning further in and brushing the tip of your nose with his. âBut like, what shipment are we talking about? Weapons and stuff? Where is it coming from?âÂ
You tried your hardest to sound dumb and uninterested, but you werenât convincing enough apparently.
Because Bucky wrapped his metal arm around your waist, making sure there was no escape, and chuckled.Â
Your body froze as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to yours, âYou know, youâre not as subtle as youâre desperately trying to be.â He whispered. âDid you think I didnât figure who you were the moment I saw you in my club, little miss reporter?â Bucky laughed.Â
Shit.Â
You gasped when the shock wore off. You tried to get off his lap but he didnât let you.Â
âAh. Donât you dare run.â He warned, staring deep into your eyes as your struggle slowly died down. âNow that you have me exactly where you wanted me, you have nothing to ask?âÂ
Your heart was racing. But then again, if he wanted you dead youâd be dead already.Â
Fine. No running.Â
âWhy did you play along?â You asked, mentally trying to find the quickest way out. If needed.Â
He smirked again. âYou looked so adorable trying to blend in here.â He leaned in and whispered into your ear, âLike an eager little puppy, trying to get my attention.â He pulled away to watch your reaction. He liked how you squirmed in embarrassment. Right on top of his crotch too. âKeep moving like that, and you might just get what you came for.âÂ
âWhat?â Another soft gasp escaped your mouth. âI didnâtââÂ
âReally?â He cut you off. âYou donât want anything? Is that why you wore a matching set under this very see-through dress to come and see me? Hmm?â He looked so smug. Pure male arrogance.Â
It shouldâve pissed you off. But it didnât. It suited him so well, all that arrogance as he sat there manspreading on the couch in his dimly lit office, with you barely clothed on his lap.Â
You squirmed again, trying to get out of his ridiculously warm and comfortable embrace. âIâll go.â You said. âI wonât bother you anymore.âÂ
Bucky chuckled. âOh no we canât have that. It took so much work to get here. Tricked my guards, made friends with the girls who work here, you worked so fucking hard to get my attention. Now you wanna leave? Absolutely not.âÂ
âWellâ,â You began arguing, then you stopped upon realising that this wasnât a regular man. He was actually a very dangerous criminal. He could have you killed, and buried with no trace left behind if he wanted to. âPlease.âÂ
He mustâve picked up on it. Judging by the way your body tensed up. âI wonât hurt you.â He said, letting his warm hand drop to your exposed thigh. He caressed your skin. âDonât be scared.â Then he looked down and smirked. âAnd if you would stop grinding on me maybe we could talk about that little article youâre writing.âÂ
Damn it.Â
You tried to pull away again, but Bucky caught you just in time. âCome on, doll.â He was having too much fun. You could tell. âBe a good girl and sit still. I wonât hurt you.âÂ
You remained still. Just as he asked.Â
âNow,â He sighed, âCan we talk? Hmm? Wanna tell me what youâre working on?â His fingers didnât stop caressing your skin. And his touch felt⊠oddly calming in a way that only familiar touches feel. Seeing you werenât answering, he added, âCome on, baby. Talk to me.âÂ
And that low, deep voice of his made you tremble.Â
âI⊠I need that article.â You sighed, âI want to be taken more seriously. At work. I mean, I want my articles to be taken more seriously.â You blinked, trying your hardest to make sense. âAnd you, well, nobody dares to write in depth about you or what you truly do, soâŠâ You took a deep breath. âI figured if I do, then maybe it would beâ that maybe I would be noticed.â You kept your head lowered, unable to understand how you managed to get that real and vulnerable around him.Â
He was a stranger.Â
Or, maybe not. Youâd been researching him for months now. Maybe your brain got so used to him that opening up was no big deal. Perhaps it was also because you realised he wasnât gonna hurt you. Either way you surprised yourself by being truly honest.Â
Bucky was quiet. Maybe thinking. After a long pause he asked, âAre you lying?âÂ
You looked up immediately, finding yourself staring into glacier eyes. âNo. Why would I lie?âÂ
His metal slowly travelled up your body, from your thigh, up your torso, until he slowly wrapped his fingers around your throat. It was supposed to be a menacing move, threatening. But it wasnât. It was just as grounding, mind-melting, and intense as his stare.Â
âIf I find out youâre lying, or youâre some kind of spy sent to me in a pretty little package⊠baby, Iâm not gonna be so nice. You hear me?âÂ
You nodded, suddenly under a trance. âIâm not lying. Look, I get it. I shouldnât have done this. Iâll go, I promise. Youâll never hear from me or see me ever again.âÂ
Bucky faked a pout. Almost like he was mocking you. âNow, when did I say I wanted you gone? Huh?â His pout slowly turned into that feline smirk he always had in most of his pictures in the tabloids or in the newspapers. âI think I know why youâre here. And it has almost nothing to do with your article.âÂ
Huh. That caught your attention. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âI think youâre here for answers.â He stated, like he was having the most casual conversation with someone. âBut not for your writing. I think youâre here for yourself. Because youâre curious. Because you secretly like my world.âÂ
âI⊠I do not.â You were quick to say. Sounding almost offended.Â
Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, again in that mocking manner. âOh? So all those months of stalking me was for what? You want me to believe it was for some random article?â He scoffed. âYou couldâve written whatever you wanted, people wouldâve believed it like they do everything else in the news. But why the thorough research, huh? Why the scheming and pretending? Why take such a huge risk?âÂ
His metal hand unwrapped itself from around your throat, and he slid it so easily in between your bodies, cupping you down there, letting his fingers press against your throbbing clit. You gasped in surprise, but you didnât move an inch to get away.Â
Buckyâs smirk grew. âYou see.â He moved his fingers gently, teasing you through your thin lingerie. âThis is what you wanted, wasnât it? You wanted me.âÂ
Your heartbeats quickened when he easily slid your underwear to the side and touched you properly with slow teasing strokes. Cold metal fingers against your heated skin. âThatâs notâŠâ You held back a moan, âTrue.âÂ
Bucky was having too much fun watching you gasp, and trying your hardest to not moan, or to not grind against his fingers. He didnât remember the last time he had such genuine desire to make a girl lose control. Usually the women he slept with did everything they could to please him. It was almost never the other way around.Â
But you⊠oh. This was going to be a fun night, he thought.Â
âAre you going to write about this?â He asked, gently sliding a finger inside you. He loved how you trembled. âHmm?â He leaned closer, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he slid another finger in, slowly fucking you with them. âAre you going to write about how good my fingers feel inside you?âÂ
Your hands instinctively found their way around his neck, you held onto him as he touched you like he had all the time in the world to play with your body and earn your reactions. And you simply let him.Â
âLook at you.â He taunted, noticing the little movements you did with your hips in desperation. âYou really did your best to try and blend in, huh? You even got this little see-through number on.â He chuckled. âBut the expensive lingerie under it gives you away, baby. Girls in this part of the city donât wear nice things like this.âÂ
That comment made you mad for some reason. You found yourself frowning at him and asking, âHow theâ fuck, oh my god,â You cried out when he slid his fingers deeper, âHow the hell do you know if itâs expensive lingerie or not?âÂ
He gave you a smug, boyish grin. âIâve taken enough off to know.âÂ
You gasped, both in pleasure and disbelief. âYouâre disgusting.â You managed to whisper.Â
He laughed. âAnd look at you, loving it.âÂ
You opened your mouth to sass back, but he shut you up by abruptly sliding his fingers out of you and shoving them into your open mouth. You barely registered as it happened. Your brain only caught up when he began talking again.Â
âDo you feel disgusting now?â He asked, his voice as triumphant as always. âHave I spoiled you? Hmm? Did my touch make you dirty?â He kept his eyes on yours, knowing damn well your pussy was begging for his touch.Â
Hell, you wouldâve begged him if he didnât have his fingers into your mouth.Â
âYou donât belong in my world.â He stated, moving his fingers gently along your tongue. âYouâre too⊠clean. Too tidy and nice.â He said it like it was an insult. âBut you want it, donât you? To belong? Here?âÂ
You kept that soft suction on his fingers as you nodded.Â
He smiled. A genuine, proud smile. âYeah? You want daddy to make you one of his girls?âÂ
You nodded again, this time whimpering as he pulled his fingers back and out of your mouth. Leaving you empty and throbbing and fucking desperate.Â
âNow, be daddyâs good girl and take all that off.âÂ
You moved immediately, delirious with anticipation and pleasure. And within the next few seconds, you were off the couch, off his lap, and stripping. You didnât bother to put on a show either. Bucky preferred that. The whole performative stripping was getting boring.Â
Once done, he guided you back over on his lap. âGood girl.â He murmured, looking up at you with those blue gorgeous eyes. His hands continued exploring your body, now bare. And he was shameless. Touching everything, everywhere. His hands, warm and cold all over your body.Â
âYouâre beautiful, you know that?â He whispered along your collar bones, kissing and licking your skin. âAnd you smell so fucking good.â You inched closer to him, rubbing your crotch against his clothed but erected cock, making yourself gasp and moan.Â
Bucky just chuckled at your impatience.Â
âI should be kicking you out.â He said. âI should have a couple of my guys keep an eye on you and make sure you never bother me again. But I canât.â He tightened his grip on your waist just a little and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling your neck again. âHow can I when you look so fucking good and fit so perfectly on my lap?âÂ
You couldnât help but whisper, âPleaseâŠâÂ
âPlease what?â He smirked against your skin. âWhat do you want, baby?â He wrapped his arms around you, grounding you on his clothed cock in the process, âMy fingers again?â He reached up to grab the back of your neck, tilting your head back so he could kiss and whisper against your skin, âOr my cock?âÂ
Would it be wrong to admit that you wanted him? Desperately. Shamelessly. You wanted him, all of him. You wanted his warm, muscular body pressed up against you while he fucked the brains out of you.Â
âYour cock, please.â You begged, gasping for breath already as he playfully bit your throat. You didnât remember the last time a man had you this hot and bothered.Â
He chuckled, letting his hand rest at your butt, bringing your body closer to his. âWell then you have to work for it, doll.â He said, amused. âI love a woman who goes for what she wants.â He confessed. âYou worked so hard to get here, didnât you? Well go on then, work some more. Take my cock out and put it in you.â He said, then leaned back to watch you.Â
He was so fucking mean. It only turned you on even more.Â
Now what? Heâs just gonna sit there and watch. How borderline humiliating. Damn him.Â
But you were needy enough that you didnât have time for shame.Â
Bucky carefully watched each one of your moves. The desperation in your eyes, how your eager, trembling hands rapidly undid his pants to free his throbbing cock. He smirked, radiating pure male confidence when he caught the way you whimpered under your breath at the sight of him.Â
You lifted your eyes up, staring into his as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking his veiny cock, making him groan under his breath. âI said put it inside you, doll.âÂ
You whimpered helplessly as you did, lifting your body off of his lap and aligning the tip of his cock to your hole and then slowly, slowly sinking down on him. You moaned, watching his cock disappear inside of you. Filling you up.Â
âCome here,â He growled once he was nice and deep inside your warm, wet hole. Grabbing you by the throat, Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you hungrily. Growling into your mouth about how good it felt to be inside you, âGood job. Look how pretty you look, filled with my cock. Do you realise how pretty you look?âÂ
You said nothing back. You just focused on breathing and feeling.Â
âCome on,â Bucky struggled to hold back. He wanted nothing more than to just fuck. But he needed to tease you a little more. âDonât you wanna remember this? For when you write your article, huh? Give me your phone.âÂ
That part confused you. âWhat?â You cried out.Â
Bucky chuckled. âWhereâs your phone, huh?â He looked around, and it was discarded and long forgotten in a corner of the couch. He reached for it and immediately opened your camera. âI want you to remember every detail. It might help with your writing.â He angled the camera down, neither of your faces visible but your bodies⊠oh it was a sight.Â
Your body pressed up against his. Him fully clothed but you were completely naked, with his cock buried deep inside you. You whimpered and hid your face into his neck as Bucky clicked multiple pics.Â
âAww, what? Now youâre shy?â He taunted. âWhat about when you had plans to seduce me and get info out of me earlier, huh? You didnât seem so shy when you basically threw yourself at me.âÂ
You melted, immediately grinding your hips against his, desperate for some friction. For any kind of movement. Just needy.Â
âPleaseâŠâÂ
He tossed your phone aside carelessly. His hands grabbed you by the hips as he carefully helped you lift your lower body up and then slowly, lowering you down his cock again.Â
âThat feels good, doesnât it, doll?â He sounded different. Rougher.Â
You nodded, looking down to see where your bodies connected and the sight of it, of his cock stretching you out was just sinful.Â
âYou feel perfect, you know that?â Bucky grabbed and held your hips in place, gently thrusting his hips up, making you moan as he filled you up, âJust a perfect girl for me, arenât you?âÂ
Bucky leaned in to kiss your open mouth. His kiss was punishing, while he moved your body gently, rocking you back and forth on his cock to get you to get used to the girth of him. His cock throbbed against your walls, causing the tiniest bit of friction which drove you insane and turned you into a teary, mumbling mess.Â
âPlease, please, pleaseâŠâ You pleaded.Â
âAww baby, what is it? Is it too much? Hmm?â He teased, placing his thumb against your clit and rubbing it slowly while still moving your hips back and forth. âBut isnât this what you wanted? When you dragged me all the way here earlier, whispering dirty secrets in my ear⊠wasnât this what you had in mind?âÂ
You looked into his eyes with your teary ones.Â
Bucky smirked, âPoor baby, so hungry for cock. Isnât she?â He let go of your hips, no longer helping you to move. âYou were willing to fuck me and get what you wanted out of me for the sake of your little article, werenât you? Go on then, take what you want. And make it good for me.âÂ
You lifted your lower body slightly, before sliding back down on his cock. Now that he wasnât helping you, it was way harder than earlier. You struggled to make him fit for a moment.Â
You whimpered and he groaned once he fit snug inside of you again. The tip of his cock reaching sensitive places you never knew existed. And suddenly, you never wanted to be empty ever again. You wanted to stay there forever on his lap.Â
âThatâs good, baby.â Bucky murmured, caressing your thigh. âFuck.â He swore. âWith a cunt that good you could get whatever you want out of me.â He chuckled to himself, âIâll fucking write your article myself.âÂ
You looked right at him as you began riding his cock as best as you could before you finally found the right pace and rhythm. His words gave you the confidence you needed to move faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time, whimpering shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely with each thrust.Â
âThatâs it. Take it, take all of me in that tight, perfect little cuntâŠâ He whispered as he leaned in, biting down and tugging at your bottom lip while you sped up, his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up.
His hand circled around your waist, his muscular arms caging you in and he pulled your warm body closer to his. You were nothing but a moaning mess at this point.Â
âThis is all you wanted, wasnât it?â He asked breathlessly, teasing you while you rode him. âAll those months of endless calls and emails, research, and this is all you wanted. I know that look in your eyes, that pleading look, those fuck-me eyes. This is how you wanna be treated, huh? Like a dirty little whore all for me to use?âÂ
Even his taunts were hot.Â
You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his ocean blue eyes. Guess you hadnât been that subtle after all.Â
Bucky held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock, throwing his head back and growling in pleasure.Â
âYou feel so fucking good, babyâŠâ He tried to contain his grunts, âOh fuck, Iâm gonna need this all the time now. And youâll give it to me, wonât you? Youâll be daddyâs good girl and every time I ask you to bring this cunt over so I can fuck it, or taste it, or both, youâll do it wonât you, baby?âÂ
âYes,â You whined, nodding helplessly. âYes, I will.âÂ
He chuckled, kissing down your neck and whispering against your skin about how perfect you felt around him. He panted against your skin, kissing you all over, âAll mine now, you hear me? All fucking mine.âÂ
âYesâŠâ
You didnât slow down when you felt your orgasm wash over you, and Bucky kept thrusting his hips up into you even as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came.
âOh fuck!â You cried out, your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone, all that pressure exploding in a hot, satisfying way.Â
Bucky came right after you, pulling out just in time, his cum spilling all over your thighs as he kept his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to his.Â
âI think we should have more meetings like this. To discuss your article, of course.âÂ
You nodded. And you knew, deep down, no matter the excuse you would keep coming back. Whenever he wanted you to.
warnings: 18+ NSFW, smut, fluff, light angst, enemies to lovers, bantering, lowk grumpy and man-hater reader, sam playing matchmaker, arguments, bucky has nightmares, semi-public sex, spanking, brat-taming, degradation and praise.
wordcount: 14.9k
a/n: i've never been to louisiana, so i tried my best to do research to keep it as accurate as possible. i apologize for any mistakes.
main masterlist
synopsis:
Sam has been trying to get you and Bucky to get alongâor at least tolerate each otherâfor the longest time. And what better way to do that than by inviting you both back home for a weekend in Louisiana?
It was always hard to decline the Wilsons every time they invited you over to visit them in Delacroix.
They always made sure to show you a fun time, whether it was something as simple as a boat ride on Paul & Darleneâs â God bless them â shooting water guns with the kids, going fishing, or just grabbing some folding chairs to watch the sun set past the lake line with cold Heinekens in hand.
It was AJâsâSarahâs sonâbirthday this weekend, and Sam had invited you to stay over for a full weekend of nonstop partying and celebration.
How could you possibly resist when you have your very best friends waiting for you across the states with good music and food ready at their doorstep?
You showed up at the top of the steps with a heavy weekender bag slung over your shoulder. When you pushed through the front door, which had been left unlocked, the last person you expected to see was standing right in the middle of the room.
Bucky.
He looked like he had just arrived, too. A simple dark backpack sat squared and centered on the couchâas if he were already claiming his spot.
Bucky slowly turned toward you, his eyes widening as if he hadnât expected you to arrive either.
âWhat are you doingââ
âWhat are you doingââ
You both spoke and stopped at the same time, eyes glaring at one another. Buckyâs shoulders were tense, his discomfort obvious, while your own brows were furrowed and lips scrunched in disdain.
Your first impression of Bucky hadnât been greatâand it still wasnât.
When you first met him, you walked in on him talking to Sam about his flirting with Sarah. Sam had warned Bucky to back offâthat typical overprotective brother routineâbut Bucky insisted he was âmerely joking aroundâ and âwasnât looking for anything serious.â
The two of them might have found it funny, but Sarah was your best friend, and you were extremely protective over the people you cared about.
While Sam was busy in New York, you had stuck by her side like glue. You were there for her through the divorce, you were there to watch the kids when Sam wasnât around, and you were there for every single one of her and the boysâ milestones.
Sarah was a woman who deserved to be taken care of, just as she took care of everyone else.
To Bucky, pursuing her and tossing out flirtatious comments was just a joke.
You knew Sarah was strong, and that maybe she wouldnât let things get too far with Bucky, but the way sheâd chuckle and giggle at his words filled you with doubt.
Bucky wasnât a man who would take care of her or her kids. He was just like Samâheâd always be away, too occupied with other things across the country to actually show up for her and her needs. You didnât want her to get hurt and left in the dust again.
Bucky let out a patient exhale, running a hand through his hair. âSam invited me to stay the weekend for AJâs birthday.â
You crossed your arms. âThatâs funny. Sam invited me over to stay, too.â You glanced at the couch. âThey donât have a spare bedroomâso that couch is going to have to be mine.â
He huffed an incredulous laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching into a disbelieving smile.
The gentleman in him told him to give up the couch and let you have it, even if he had arrived first. But the petty part of him didnât want to give in that easilyânot with how cold you have been towards him.
âWhat?â Bucky motioned to the sofa. âYou donât think the couch is big enough for the both of us?â
You didnât laugh, and he let out a frustrated sigh.
âLook, Iââ
âMom! Uncle Bucky and Auntie are here!â Cassâs voice rang from around the corner. His happy brown eyes, so much like Sarahâs, peered between the two of you. âAJ, come here!â
Buckyâs shoulders eased slightly, his expression softening at the sight of Samâs nephew.
Cass ran to Bucky first since he was closer, throwing his arms around his waist as he knelt to meet the kid halfway.
âGood to see you again, kid,â Bucky murmured.
Then Cass lunged at you for a hug next, nearly sending you stumbling backward from the impact. You laughed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing tight. âHey there, Cass!â
AJ rounded the corner next, his footsteps thudding against the floorboards before he collided head first into Bucky, catching him in a bear hug.
Jealousy started to boil in your blood. It was infuriating how much Bucky had these two kids wrapped around his stupid vibranium finger after knowing them for such a short time. Meanwhile, you have been around forever. You might as well have been their biological aunt, for fuckâs sake.
âUncle Bucky!â AJ beamed.
Bucky laughed, giving his head a playful ruffle. âWell, if it isnât the birthday boy. Hey, I got you somethingââ
âArenât you going to say hi to your aunt, AJ?â you cut in, catching the boyâs attention.
AJâs excitement for whatever gift Bucky had for him faded slightly as he turned his attention to you. He smiled, walkingânot runningâto greet you with a hug. The polite gesture did nothing to soothe your jealousy or your emotional attachment to these kids.
âItâs nice to see you, Auntie,â AJ said politely.
You forced a smile anyway. âHappy early birthday, AJ. Are you excited for the weekend?â
AJ grinned and nodded, but before he could answer, the sound of Samâs footsteps approached from down the hall.
âWell, well, well,â Sam said, a hand on his hip and a smirk on his face. âIf it isnât my two favorite people in the worldâstanding in the same room.â
The little boys glanced at each other, already starting their own silent game of tag before they pushed through the front door and disappeared into the yard.
âSam,â you greeted, finally dropping your heavy duffel bag on the floor. âThere isnât enough space for Bucky and me to stay.â
Bucky was already reaching for his backpack. âIâll just let her take the couch. Iâll sleep on the floor.â
âWhat?â Sam huffed, shaking his head. âNo, no, no. None of that. I bought an air mattress that we can set up right here.â He motioned to the floor in front of the sofa. âWeâll just move the coffee table. Itâs big enough to fit the both of you. No one is sleeping on the floor.â
Big enough to fit the both of you?
âWe are not sharing a bed,â you interjected sternly, trying to hide the embarassment on your face.
Bucky glanced at Sam casually. âIâll just take the couch, then. Sheâll take the bed.â
The tension in the room was thicker than the Louisiana humidity. Sam and Bucky traded a knowing lookâone that typically meant they were thinking the same thing but didnât want to say it out loud.
âWhereâs Sarah?â you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. There was too much testosterone in this room.
Sam pointed a thumb over his shoulder. âSheâs out back.â
You nodded and walked past the two men, heading for the backyard. Sam and Bucky watched you retreat, waiting until the sound of the screen door clicked shut before Bucky finally let out the breath he had been holding.
âShe doesnât like me much, Sam,â Bucky muttered.
âYou think?â Sam mused sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest. âLook, man, itâs my nephewâs birthday. Sarah and I want both of you here this weekend, and Iâm going to make sure it stays a good weekend.â
Bucky pressed his lips together, his right hand coming up to tug at the stubble on his chin as if he were trying to calculate a solution.
âAlright, well...â He shrugged. âGuess Iâll just make sure to stay on the opposite side of the roomââ
âNo,â Sam interrupted, stepping closer. âThatâs not how weâre doing things. Itâs a celebration, man. Iâm not having you two avoid each other like the plague the entire time. My nephews and everyone else around us will catch on.â
Bucky made a face. He knew Sam well enough to know he was already plotting something. âWhat do you propose we do, then?â
âThere are plenty of things to do down at the bayou,â Sam explained. âNot even just the bayouâall over the damn state. Activities you two can do together.â
Bucky was terrible at hiding his expressions. He grimaced immediately at the thoughtâenduring constant nagging, side-eyes, and petty one liners from you while he just had to sit there and take it for Samâs sake.
This wasnât a fun vacation at all.
âI donât know about this, Samââ
âWeâre supposed to be a family, Buck,â Sam cut him off, raising a hand to silence the protest. âYouâre going to spend time with her, and youâre going to enjoy every second of it.â
You were down at the docks, the sun beaming down as sweat began to trickle from your temples. The humidity in Louisiana was suffocating, but the occasional lake breeze, the cold beers, and the company were enough to keep the heat at bay.
Paul & Darleneâs was swaying gently against the waves, looking as rusty as ever.
âIs she ready for a ride?â you asked Sarah, who was currently engrossed in a clipboard. âAre you seriously still working on your sonâs birthday weekend?â
Sarah didnât reply, mumbling to herself as her eyes traced the words on the paper. You sighed, your fingers gently nudging the clipboard down.
âSarah, enough,â you said gently. You glanced over at AJ and Cass, who were sitting on the benches playing with action figures. âTake the weekend off like the rest of us and spend time with the kids. Take them out on the boat.â
Sarah looked at the boys, her brown eyes filling with guilt. âYou know I would, but the boatâs still brokenââ
âStop with the sulking,â Samâs voice shouted from the end of the dock.
He squinted against the sun as he approached, carrying two boat paddles, while Bucky trailed behind him with a third.
âWe still have three perfectly good rowboats we can take the kids on,â Sam grinned, handing you one of the paddles. âEver rowed a boat before?â
âOf course I have,â you said, taking it. âThat sounds like fun.â You smiled, turning toward the boys. âWhich one of you lucky boys wants to ride with your super cool aunt?â
Bucky lifted his paddle up to Sarah with a small, stupidly charming smile. âWant to ride with me, Sarah?â
You felt your eyebrow twitch.
âAJ, youâre with me,â Sam called out, cutting Bucky off. âCass, youâre with your mom.â
âWhat? No fair!â Cass made a face, throwing his hands up. âI want to ride with someone cool!â
âYou better watch your mouth, boy,â Sarah warned, completely ignoring Bucky as she snatched a paddle from Samâs hand, already heading toward the end of the dock where the boats were tied.
Sam didnât bother hiding his grin. It was wide, unabashed, and entirely too fucking satisfied as he ushered the boys toward the edge of the dock.
âAlright, move it or lose it! First one to the sandbar gets the first slice of cake on Saturday!â Sam shouted. AJ and Cass scrambled past you, their sneakers slapping loudly against the wooden planks as they raced toward the smaller rowboats, leaving giggles in their wake.
You and Bucky stood frozen, paddles in hand like two statues, blinking as the Wilsons walked off without you.
âWait, what?â you finally managed to choke out, your head whipping between Samâs retreating back and the boats. âSam, hold on. There are only three boats.â You stumbled after them, desperately trying to create space between you and Bucky.
âYep!â Sam called over his shoulder, not slowing down at all. âOne for Sarah and Cass, one for me and the birthday boyâŠâ
He paused to hop into a boat, the wood creaking under him. He looked back at you and Bucky, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
âAnd one for the two of you. Try not to tip it.â
You turned slowly to look at Bucky. He looked just as dumbfounded as you felt, his vibranium hand gripped tight around the handle of his paddle.
âHeâs kidding,â you muttered. âHeâs definitely kidding.â
Bucky didnât say anything, mostly because he knew Sam wasnât kidding at all. He looked at the third rowboatâa small, weathered piece of wood that bobbed innocently at the end of the line.
It looked incredibly small.
It looked too intimate.
It looked like a disaster waiting to happen.
âSam!â you yelled, taking a step forward. âThis is ridiculous! I can just stay back and help Sarah with theâthe decorations! Or the food!â
âDecorations are done! Food isnât being prepped âtil tomorrow!â Sarah shouted from her own boat, already pushing off from the dock with Cass sitting across from her.
You couldnât believe it. You were stranded.
You were stranded with Bucky fucking Barnes.
Bucky let out a long, slow breath through his nose. He glanced at you, taking the way your jaw had hung open as you watched Sam and Sarah float away. A fly couldâve flown in at any moment.
Without a word, Bucky started walking toward the last boat, his heavy boots thumping against the dock. He stepped one foot into the boat to steady it and extended a hand toward you.
âCome on,â he muttered. âIâll help you down.â
You blinked, snapped out of your disbelief as you looked down at Buckyâpropped up like a knight in shining armor helping a fair maiden onto his trusty steed.
âI can help myself just fine, thanks,â you scoffed.
You stepped down into the boat, and it tipped slightly under your weight. The both of you quickly got settled, undid the rope, and assembled the paddles at the sides. Without a single word being exchanged, you both reached for the handles at the same time.
Except Buckyâs hands landed firstâand your hands landed right on top of his. You both stared at each other, gazes hard and unwavering.
âLet go,â you said.
Bucky didnât budge at all. âI grabbed them first.â
âYeah, but you donât know how to row a boat, do you?â you immediately countered.
He paused. The only sounds were the cicadas buzzing in your ears and the gentle thrashing of water as the rowboat swayed.
âI do know how to row a boat,â Bucky argued back pridefully.
He didnât.
He probably had during his Winter Soldier daysâand maybe the muscle memory would have come backâbut definitely not for a teeny, tiny little rowboat like this.
You grinned, a little taunting chuckle escaping your lips as you silently called his bluff. âOh, yeah?â
You knew that stung his pride. He mumbled incoherent, grumpy words under his breath as he started to paddle away from the docks and toward the center of the lake, trying to follow Sam and Sarahâs lead.
The two of you sat in an awkward, tense silence as he worked the paddles. The sun was beaming in your face, and you lifted your hand to provide shadeâbut it was also a discreet method to help shield the way you were staring intently at Buckyâs muscles as he pushed the paddles.
Bucky would grunt occasionally as the blades lapped through the water, and you couldnât help but stare at the way his muscles bulged and flexed through a shirt that looked ridiculously tight on a big guy like him.
His henley was pulled up to his forearms, the vibranium shimmering against the reflections of the lake and the veins in his right arm catching your eyes with every pushing motion of the paddle.
âYou, uh⊠you come to Louisiana often?â Bucky tried for a conversation.
You huffed a laugh that didnât sound humorous at all. âWay more than you have, thatâs for sure.â
Bucky chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something smart. He had to suck it up for Samâs sake.
âThe weatherâs nice, isnât it?â
You couldnât believe Bucky was trying to talk to you about the weather.
âItâs always hot and swampy in Delacroix,â you said flatly.
You looked around, noticing how the boat was drifting further away from Sam and Sarah. You watched as Cass and AJ shouted to each other from across their boatsâhow Sarah and Sam were tossing their heads back in laughter.
A frown settled on your lips as you began to feel left out.
âWeâre drifting, Bucky,â you said, pointing toward them. âSteer in that direction.â
Bucky adjusted his grip on the paddles and huffed. âFine.â
He started to dig the right paddle deep into the water while the left one barely grazed the surface. But instead of cutting toward Sam and Sarah, the boatâs nose jerked sharply to the right.
âWhat are you doing?â you snapped, your patience thinning as the distance between you and the Wilsons grew wider. âWeâre not going toward them, Bucky. Weâre goingâŠâ You frowned. ââŠnowhere.â
âIâm adjusting,â Bucky said shortly, his vibranium fingers tightening on the paddle. He tried to over-correct, pulling back hard with his left arm, but the only result was the boat beginning to pivot on its axis.
You werenât moving anywhere. You were spinning.
The same cluster of cypress trees passed by for the third time. Sam and Sarah were becoming distant specks on the horizon, their laughter echoing faintly across the water.
An impatient sigh escaped you as you leaned forward, motioning to the paddles. âHere, move over. Let me take overââ
âI got it,â Bucky insisted, his jaw clenched and shoulders tense in that way that made him look particularly stubborn. âJust give me a second, alright?â
âBucky, weâve barely moved from the dock and now youâve got usââ you motioned to the boat, ââspinning in circles. Iâm getting dizzy. Just hand me the damn paddles.â
Your hands found an open space on the handles and you jerked them toward your side of the boat, causing the wood to thrash against the water. Buckyâtaken aback by your unexpected strengthâwas pulled forward. He let out a hiss, immediately yanking the oars back toward him and making you jerk forward instead.
You both glared at each other stubbornly, muttering curses as you continued this back and forth struggle for the paddles.
But unfortunately for you, Bucky was significantly stronger, and every jerk he made sent you nearly flying out of your seat and in his direction.
âGoddammit, Bucky! Just let go!â you hissed, trying to find your balance as the boat thrashed around, water splashing everywhere.
Bucky had told himself he would try to suck up your attitude for Samâbut fuck, you were treading on his nerves every second.
âChrist, woman!â Bucky barked, his fingers tightening on the handles. âJust let me take care of itâalright? I know what Iâm doing!â
âWell, clearly you donât! Because weâre still just spinning in circles!â
The boat rocked violently, tipping precariously every time the two of you fought for the oars. The wood creaked and groaned under the movement, and water began slopping over the gunwales, soaking your sandals.
âWill you stop being such a prideful man and let a woman take over the damn oars already?â you shouted over the splashing water, throwing your entire weight into a massive yank.
The paddles lurched toward you.
âI canât believe you offered to take Sarah for a ride when you canât even steer the damn thing!â
Buckyâs brow twitched. He hated feeling incompetent, and every word you hurled was a direct jab to his pride. He had tried so hard to be on his best behavior for you, but his patience had finally worn thin.
âI wouldâve done just fine if you hadnât gotten in the way,â Bucky snapped back in a low growl.
His fingers clamped down so hard on the wood it was a wonder it didnât snap. Out of sheer, petty spite, he jerked the oars back toward himself.
âNow give me these damn paddlesââ
But the force of his movement caught you completely off guard. You let out a sharp yelp as you were catapulted forward, your hands losing their grip on the wood. You had zero time to brace yourself before you collided hard with his chestâit felt like hitting a brick wall wrapped in damp cotton.
With all the weight suddenly slammed onto one side, the boat lurched backward, the stern dipping dangerously low.
Pressed against his chest, you scrambled to get up in a panic. âJesus, Bucky! Look at what youââ
âStop squirming! Just⊠just stay still!â
Buckyâs grip on the oars was long forgotten as his hands found your waist in a desperate attempt to steady you, but it was too late.
With a loud, undignified splash that caught the attention of everyone on the docks, the rowboat flipped.
One moment, the sun was burning your skin, and the next, you were greeted by cold water enveloping you. Everything from above was muffled as you were completely submerged. Keeping your eyes squeezed shut against the murky water, you tried to swim upward, but panic started to flare as your head kept bumping into the underside of the wooden boat.
Suddenly, a strong, vibranium arm wrapped roughly around your waist. He pulled your body tight against his, dragging you toward the surface and back to the shore.
You gasped for air the moment you broke the surface, your skin warming as the sunlight hit your soaked face. People on the docks were smiling and laughing at your predicament, but Bucky paid them no mind. He dragged a hand down his face, wiping away the water.
âAre you okay?â he asked, his voice low.
Samâs laughter, joined by the kidsâ giggles, filled your ears as their boats drew closer.
âOh no, what happened to you two?â Sam grinned, spinning his boat around to get a better look at you. âLet me guessâwas it the wind?â He motioned to the upside down boat.
Rolling your eyes, you pushed through the water until you reached the edge of the docks, with Bucky swimming close behind. You tried to paddle faster to create some distance, but there was no pointâhe caught up to you in no time.
When you reached the dock, you tried to hoist yourself up, but Buckyâs hands found your waist again, easily hauling you up and over the wooden floorboards.
You sneered at him the second your feet were steady. âI didnât need your help.â
Bucky ignored you as he hauled himself up onto the dock, his muscles rippling beneath the soaked fabric of his shirt. Water clung to his skin, dripping from the tips of his short, shaggy hair and trailing down the tanned column of his throat.
You were furiousâabsolutely lividâbut as you watched the way his broad shoulders tensed just underneath the thin fabric, you found yourself swallowing hard.
You hated that, even in the middle of a fucking swamp, he still managed to look like that.
Bucky didnât notice you staring at him. He stood up, shaking his head like a dog to get the water out of his ears.
âI was doing a fine job,â he bit out roughly, âuntil you had to butt your head in and try to take over. If you had just sat still, we wouldnât be soaked right nowââ
As Bucky finally lifted his head to glare at you, the breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, his gaze dropping from your drenched head to your chestâand then freezing there.
You were wearing a sheer white blouseâlight and airy for the Louisiana heat, of courseâbut now that it was drenched through, it had turned completely translucent. It clung tight to your skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination and revealing the lace of your bra underneath.
Buckyâs jaw went tight, his adamâs apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He knew he should look away, but he couldnâtânot even as you continued to yell and point a finger at him.
âWhat? Are you insinuating that itâs my fault?â you scoffed in disbelief.
Bucky couldnât concentrate. It felt like his brain had short circuited as he stared shamelessly at the damp lace and the soft curve of your skin.
âAnd another thing!â you shouted, stepping closer and poking a finger square into the center of his chest. âIf you hadnât been so stubborn about the oars, we wouldâve caught up to Sam and Sarah and been having a good time with them!â
Bucky winced, not because of the poke, but because you moving closer only made the view more prominent. He glanced toward the docks, noticing a few of the guys from the neighborhood whistling and laughing at the both of you.
Without thinking, Bucky stepped closer, his large frame shielding you from the view of the men. He reached out, his hands hovering awkwardly near your shoulders as he tried to pull you against him to hide your vulnerable state.
âHeyâ? What the hell are you doing?â you snapped, trying to shove him back. âWhy are you hugging me? Get off!â
âIâm not hugging you,â Bucky mumbled grumpily as he forced you to stay put, caging you between his big arms.
âIt feels a lot like hugging, Barnes! Let go!â You squirmed, but his grip on you was tight. His face flushed as he felt your chest rub up against his.
âStop moving,â he hissed, his face turning a deep, frustrated red as he looked anywhere but at your chest. He leaned down, his mouth inches away from your ear so only you could hear. âYour damn shirt.â
âMy shirt?â You blinked up at him in confusion. âWhat about myâ?â
You looked down, and the realization hit you. Your face got hot with embarrassment once you noticed how the white fabric of your shirt was basically invisible, clinging to every inch of your bra and skin.
Sam and Sarah pulled their boat alongside the dock, the hull bumping gently against the wood. Sam hopped out first, looping the rope around the cleat. He looked up, taking in the sight of the two of you standing so close together.
âWell, would you look at that,â Sam said, a massive grin spreading across his face. âOne little dip in the lake and you two finally made up?â
Bucky felt your body tense. Sensing how uncomfortable this was for you, he was just about to step backâuntil you crossed your arms over your chest and huddled deeper into his shadow.
âYou okay?â Bucky murmured quietly, tilting his head down toward you.
After Sarah helped Cass off the boat, she stepped onto the dock and walked straight to you, moving between you and the men. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gently pried you away from Bucky, taking over his job of hiding you.
âCome on,â Sarah said softly, her voice full of understanding as she began to lead you away. âLetâs get you fixed up and into some dry clothes.â
You didnât dare look back at Bucky as you let her lead you away, though you could feel his gaze on your back until you and Sarah rounded the corner, leaving the men out of sight.
Back on the dock, the laughter died down. Bucky stood there dripping wet, looking uncharacteristically flustered.
âI take it the boat ride didnât go well?â Sam taunted, his eyes still fixed on the corner where you and his sister had disappeared.
Bucky stayed quiet, glaring at Sam as water droplets fell from his hair onto the floorboards of the dock.
âThis isnât going to work, Sam,â Bucky muttered, wringing the hem of his shirt. âShe hates me.â
âDonât be like that, Buck.â Sam patted him on the shoulder. âShe doesnât hate anyone. Besides, weâve got the whole weekend ahead of us, alright?â
Sam likely said that in hopes of lifting Buckyâs spiritsâbut it only did the exact opposite.
The sky was dark as you sat on the air mattress, applying lotion to your skin. The thought of sharing a space with Bucky felt daunting.
The rest of the day had been awkward and tense after the disaster on the lake. It didnât help that Bucky did exactly what Sam told him not to doâwhich was hovering at the far end of the room, making sure to stand wherever you werenât.
Bucky was taking his sweet time in the bathroom. As you finished with the lotion, you quickly snuggled into the air mattress, trying to fall asleep before he came back out.
Only a few minutes passed before the light from the bathroom hit your eyes as he pulled the door open. You winced at the sudden brightness but kept your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.
A small sighâalmost a breath of reliefâescaped his lips when he noticed you were out, or at least appeared to be.
You heard his heavy footsteps thud toward the couch. He crouched with his back to you, digging through his backpack for something.
Curiosity got the best of you. You peeked one eye open, and your heart nearly leaped out of your chest.
Bucky was shirtless.
You watched as he balanced on the balls of his feet, rummaging through the bag. The moonlight piercing through the window shadowed the deep lines and muscles of his back. His vibranium arm looked just as beautiful under the moon as it had in the sun.
His hair, no longer damp and scruffy like it was at the docks, was still slightly wet and brushed back neatly.
You could smell him all the way from the air mattress. He smelled soft and clean, with the underlying masculine scent of his deodorant. You knew you should have been asleep by now, but your heart wouldnât stop racing.
Was he really going to sleep shirtless even though you were here?
Despite your heart thumping loudly in your chest, you kept your back turned to him and tried your best to fall asleep.
Hours later, you eventually drifted off, only to be jolted awake by the sound of shuffling, groaning, and mumbled curses coming from across the room.
Lifting your head, you tiredly rubbed your eyes as you glanced in Buckyâs direction.
âBucky⊠can you keep it down?â
But as you focused, you realized that whatever he was doing wasnât intentional.
Buckyâs eyes were squeezed shut, his face scrunched into a grimace as he panted heavily. A thin sheen of sweat covered the column of his neck and chest, and his fingers were digging deep into the cushions of the couch. He kept mumbling incoherent, unfinished sentences that made your heart sink with worry.
âIâm sorry,â he rasped.
âBucky? Are you okay?â you asked, your voice rising.
âDonât do this, pleaseâdonât⊠mph⊠don't do this...â
âBucky, listen to me!â
âStop, stop!â he choked out, his body jerking against the couch.
You scrambled off the air mattress, tossing the blanket aside as you rushed to Buckyâs side at the couch.
âBucky!â you whispered urgently, reaching out to grab his shoulders. You shook him, your palms warming from the heat radiating off his damp skin. âBucky, wake up. Youâre having a nightmare!â
When he didnât wake, you shook him harder until he gasped awake so violently he nearly knocked you backward. His eyes snapped openâwide, unfocused, and⊠terrified.
He sat up abruptly, his chest heaving as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. His vibranium hand clamped onto the edge of the couch so hard the wood underneath groaned.
âIâmâIâŠâ he stammered, his voice heavy with panic.
âHey... hey, look at me,â you said softly, your hands finding his wet cheeks and forcing his focus onto you. âIâm here. Youâre in Louisiana. Youâre at Sarahâs.â
You started saying the first things that came to mind. Surely, reminding someone where they were would help in a situation like this, right?
Buckyâs head whipped toward you, his gaze darting around the dark room until it finally landed on your face again. He was still shaking, the tremors racking his broad shoulders as he tried to calm himself in your touch.
You didnât say anything elseâyou didnât really know what to say in a situation like this. But being there, holding him and simply staying in his space, seemed to be enough for now.
Slowly and quietly, he began to catch his breath, and thatâs when you noticed he was trying to match his breathing to yours.
In and out. In and out, slowly, until he finally started to calm down.
âDidâŠâ He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to your lapânoticing how your oversized shirt hung loosely over your legs. âDid I wake you?â
You nodded gently, deciding to be truthful. âYou did.â
Guilt immediately clouded his features. âIâm sorry.â
A solemn frown tugged at your lips as you leaned in closer to get a better look at him. âAre you okay?â
âIâll be fine,â he muttered, pulling away from your touch so suddenly it made your hands feel cold.
He tried to get comfortable on the couch again, but the tension in his shoulders and the stiff way he moved made it clear that settling back into sleep would be impossible.
Your heart ached for him. You felt terrible.
âYou can take the air mattress, Bucky,â you said, already rising to your feet. âHere, Iâll move my thingsââ
As you stepped away, Buckyâs hand immediately clamped around your wrist. âNo, stop. Justâjust keep the mattress, okay? Iâll be fine,â he insisted, though the wobble in his voice betrayed how he really felt.
Your frown deepened. Even in this vulnerable state, he held onto that same stubborn pride that had clashed with yours earlier at the docks. Except this time, his attitude didnât piss you off. Standing before him while he looked so broken and tired only made you feel completely useless.
âIs there anything I can do?â you asked quietly, searching his face. âAnything to help?â
Bucky managed a small smileâa forced, tired expression that didnât reach his eyes. He let go of your wrist, his hand falling back to the couch.
âLetâs just get some rest. Weâve got a big birthday party tomorrow. Iâm sorry for waking you.â
You stood there for a second, looking at the cramped, uncomfortable couch and then back at the oversized air mattress that looked far too big for just one person.
âYouâre really pulling at my heartstrings here, old man.â You reached out, grabbing the hem of his blanket. âCome on. Thereâs plenty of room. Letâs just share the mattress.â
Bucky froze, his eyes widening as he looked from you to the bed. âS-shareâŠ?â
You were already getting settled on your side, your back facing him, hoping the distance would help his flustered state.
âYou need sleep, and Iâm not going to be able to close my eyes knowing youâre over there miserable on a cramped couch,â you huffed. âNow get over here.â
Bucky knew there was no point in arguing with you further. If he had learned anything from the disaster at the docks, it was that once you set your mind on something, he was better off just letting you have your way.
With a reluctant, heavy sigh, he finally stood up and moved toward the air mattress. The mattress dipped significantly under his body as he shuffled around to get comfortable on his side. He kept a respectable amount of space between the both of you, lying stiffly on the very edge.
You both remained back to back, with only the sound of crickets outside filling the silence.
âDo you get nightmares often?â you suddenly asked.
Bucky hesitated. âNot as much as I used to,â he answered in a gravelly rasp. âBut they still come and go.â
There was another pause.
This time, Bucky broke it.
âDo you care if I sleep without a shirt on?â
You couldnât help the snort that escaped your lips. âDonât worry,â you chuckled. âIâm not looking.â
The sound of your laughter in this awkward, tense space made his shoulders ease slightly and his heart beat a little slower. You two continued to lay quietly like that for a long momentâside by side, back to back.
There were a million thoughts running through Buckyâs head, and he felt particularly restless.
Finally, he decided to ask the very thing that had been occupying his mind since you two first met.
âWhy do you dislike me so much?â
Bucky braced himself for the answer, but it didnât come.
He waited, wondering if you were pretending not to hear him. He called your name softly and turned over his shoulder to look at you, but he stopped short.
You had already fallen asleep.
The morning light pierced through the front windows, hitting you right in the face. The quiet peace of the night before had been replaced by the chaotic, joyful energy of a house in full celebration mode.
From the kitchen, the clattering of pots and pans and the high pitched laughter of AJ and Cass bounced off the walls, forcing you awake.
You blinked, rubbing the grogginess from your eyes as you realized the air mattress felt much, much lighter. Bucky was already gone. His side of the bed was nearly smoothed over, and his blanket was folded neatly back on the couchâas if he hadnât slept next to you at all.
âMorning, sleepyhead!â Sarah called out from the kitchen. âIâm so sorry for all this ruckus. We were tryinâ our best to stay quiet, but everyone is just so excited since itâs AJâs big day today.â
A sleepy, lopsided smile pulled at your lips at the sight of Sarah and the kids gathered in the living room.
âItâs okay,â you said groggily, pulling yourself off the air mattress. âHappy Birthday, AJ.â
You started walking toward Sarah, meeting her in the kitchen. You took note of the trays and various types of produce lying around. âIs there anything I can do to help?â
Sarah didnât glance up from the onions she was laying out on the cutting board.
âOh no, no,â she clicked her tongue. âItâs a warzone in here that only I can handle. Youâd only get in my way, and I donât need two people trippinâ over each other in this kitchenâI can leave that to my kids.â
You frowned, leaning against the wall. âAre you sure? I feel bad just sitting around while youâre doing all thisââ
âIâm positive,â Sarah cut you off, pointing her knife at you and then toward the clock on the wall. âThe party doesnât start âtil five. So you can get outta here and enjoy New Orleans or somethinâ until everythingâs ready.â
âBut Sarah, thatâs an hour driveââ
âOut!â she laughed, shooing you toward the front door with a wave of her knife. âGo breathe some fresh air. Enjoy yourself and the town. I know you miss it.â
A small smile tugged at your lips, just as the sound of Bucky approaching from the backyardâalready dressed for the dayâmet you and Sarah in the kitchen.
âMorning,â he nodded to you curtly, as if last night hadnât happened at all.
Then he glanced at Sarah with a smileâthat stupidly charming smile. He nodded toward the counter. âLet me helpââ
Before he could take a step closer, Sarah pointed the knife at him, too. She looked back at you. âAnd take hunky robot here with you while youâre at it.â
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the way she brushed Bucky aside.
Bucky blinked, confused. âTake me where?â
âSarah, if Iâm going out to enjoy the town, Iâm doing it by myselfââ
You were cut off by the sound of the screen door hitting the wall as Sam hauled a heavy box of supplies into the room. He dropped it onto the floor with a loud thud and wiped the sweat from his forehead, grinning when he saw the three of you standing there.
âOh, perfect,â Sam panted. âYou goinâ to town? Take Bucky with you. Show him around. Heâs been following me around like some fly buzzinâ in my ear.â
Buckyâs jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms defensively. âA fly?â
Sam ignored him as he began to unbox. âSeriously, take him. He needs the fresh air, and I need the floor space. Go on, get out of here.â
You were about to protestâto insist on staying and offer your assistanceâbut Sam and Sarah were already bickering in the kitchen, talking about how Sam had to pick up AJâs friends and run to the store for last minute groceries.
When you told them that you could be an extra set of hands, they both looked at you and, at the same time, shouted, âGet out!â
Now, you found yourself behind the wheel of Sarahâs run-down but reliable Chevy with Bucky sitting in the passenger seat.
He had offered to drive, but you didnât allow him toâwhich, after the incident with the boat, was a smart move on his part.
The radio didnât work, so you two sat in awkward silence with the windows rolled down, letting the humid breeze pass through as you drove toward New Orleans. Bucky had one arm out the window, his eyes focused on the trees passing by.
âSo, where are you taking me?â he suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
âNew Orleans,â you answered flatly.
The short burst of warmth that the two of you had shared in the middle of the night seemed to have disappeared completely. Bucky had his body turned slightly away from you, and maybe that was how he wanted it. Perhaps the vulnerability he had shared last night was something he wanted to keep under wraps.
âI know that,â he scoffed. âBut what are we going to do there?â
âIâm taking you to my favorite spot,â you said, keeping your eyes on the road. âMontyâs.â
Bucky hummed. âThat like a breakfast joint or something?â
âItâs a classic diner. They have the best crawfish and cheesesteaks youâll ever put in your mouth,â you said, your stomach growling just thinking about it. âBut the best part are the beignets. They have the best stuffed beignets Iâve ever had.â
Bucky finally glanced at you, a small grin tugging at his lips. âIâve never had a beignet.â
Your eyes went wide, and you looked at him in disbelief. âWhat? You stay with the Wilsons and youâve never had a beignet?â
He shook his head. âNo.â
âHave you ever been to New Orleans?â
He shook his head again. âIâve only ever stayed in Delacroix with Sam.â
The idea of introducing the city of New Orleansâa place you adoredâto someone who had never been filled you with a sudden burst of excitement, even if it was for Bucky.
âWell, weâve got a lot of time to spare. So weâll park somewhere and walk to Montyâs, and since the restaurant is near Jackson Square, Iâll show you around.â
While you kept your eyes on the road, Bucky could only stare at you as you went on and on about the beauty of New Orleans.
You explained breathlessly how gorgeous the square wasâabout how the greenery around the cathedral was breathtaking. You mentioned the French Market a couple of blocks away and went on about the street musicians and talented jazz players on every corner. You told him about the vendors posted all around and how you could even take a trolley around the area.
For the first time since he met you, he had never heard you speak this much in one breath.
For once, you werenât throwing petty remarks at him. You talked and talked about the things you loved about the city, and Bucky felt like his heart was swelling too large for his chest.
Before long, the two of you made it into the vibrant heart of New Orleans.
The restaurant was already loudâthe clinking of silverware, loud laughter, and a jazz band playing down the street hummed in your ears.
Despite the heat, Bucky had kept his jacket on for as long as possible, but eventually, the Louisiana humidity won.
Now, with his sleeves rolled up, the vibranium of his arm caught the light poking through the window with every movement. You saw the way the couple at the table next to you whispered to each other, and how a group of tourists leaned in, pointing in his direction.
Bucky felt it, too. His jaw was clenched, and he kept his left hand tucked partially under the table. He looked like he wanted to disappear. It was no wonder he preferred staying at Samâs.
Then, the server arrived with a tray that smelled like heaven.
âHere you go,â you said, pushing the plate of powdered goodness toward him. âThe legendary stuffed beignets,â you added with a bright smile, hoping to ease his mood.
The pastries were massive, perfectly golden brown and buried under a mountain of powdered sugar. Bucky lifted one and took a careful bite, the crunch of the dough giving way to a rich and creamy center. His eyes widened, and he let out a small, muffled âmmâ as he chewed.
âItâs good, right?â you grinned, already halfway through your own beignet.
Bucky nodded, taking an even bigger bite. âGood,â he confirmed mid-chew. âVery fucking good.â
As he pulled the beignet away from his mouth, he was oblivious to the thick coat of white powder smeared across his upper lip like a mustache, with a stray patch sitting right on the tip of his nose. Bucky still had that natural, broody look on his face as he chewed. He reached for his water, and as much as you tried to keep a straight face, you couldnât help the laugh that escaped.
âBucky,â you snickered, shielding your mouth with your hand.
He stopped, glass halfway to his mouth, frowning in confusion. âWhat?â
âYouâve gotâŠâ You pointed to your own face, doubling over as another giggle escaped. âPowder all over your face, old man.â
Bucky reached up with his right hand, wiping his lip only to smear the powder further across his cheek. He realized then how ridiculous he must have looked.
âShut up,â he mumbled, keeping his eyes down as his face flushed with embarrassment. But with the way you were giggling across the table, he couldnât help but smile, too.
âHere, let me help you.â
To save him from further embarrassment, you reached across the small, wobbly table.
Your thumb brushed the corner of his mouth, sweeping away the stubborn white powder. Any petty remark Bucky had been about to throw at you died in his throat the second your thumb made contact with his skin.
With the sunlight peering through the window and casting a soft glow on you, you looked⊠soft.
You looked exactly as you had last night, with the moonlight over your face while you comforted him after his nightmare.
Bucky swallowed hard. âIââ
Suddenly, a waiter rushing by with a loaded tray clipped the corner of your table. The wood jolted, the water glasses sloshing dangerously.
âSorry, folks! Pardon me,â the man mumbled, already halfway to the next table.
You pulled your hand back quickly, clearing your throat. Bucky sat back, his hand dropping to his lap as he looked toward the door.
âReady?â he asked, his voice a little lower than usual.
âYeah,â you nodded. âLetâs go.â
The two of you left the restaurant. Stepping out into the warm air, Jackson Square was already vibrant and bustling with a good mix of tourists and locals.
Couples drifted past, fingers intertwined or arms slung over shoulders, soaking in the romance of the city. You and Bucky, however, kept a careful, âfriendlyâ distance, though every time your shoulders brushed in the crowd, you both tensed up.
As you rounded the corner toward the cathedral, the soulful, brass of a trumpet pulled you toward a crowd gathered on the sidewalk.
A jazz quartet was set up near the iron gates. The music was loud and swinging. People were swaying, and some older couples were even dancing in the middle of the pavement, lost in the beat as an elderly man sang, his smooth, gravelly voice beaming through the microphone.
You stopped at the edge of the circle, smiling as you watched a young couple spin each other around.
The music was infectious, and you found yourself tapping your foot against the cobblestones. Bucky stood beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, but his eyes werenât on the musicians. He was watching the people dancing with a look of quiet, distant longing that made your heart ache just a little.
âAre you okay?â you asked softly, grabbing his attention.
Buckyâas if snapped out of his own thoughtsâjumped slightly at your question. He looked down at you, a sheepish smile on his lips.
âYeah, Iâm fine.â
You motioned to the other dancers. âDo you want to dance?â
He blinked as your question processed in his mind. You were inviting him to dance?
Were you trying to pull his leg?
Bucky sucked in a deep breath, his face flushing and his eyes going wide. â⊠Dance?â
Before Bucky could deny your offer, the saxophone player stepped forward and got lost in a wild, trilling solo that made the crowd cheer even louder. The man on the microphone let out a joyful laugh, clapping his hands in time with the beat.
âThatâs it! Thatâs it!â he called out. âDonât just stand there lookinâ pretty, now! Everyone grab a partner and start dancinâ if you havenât alreadyâlifeâs way too short to be standinâ still.â
More people spilled into the center of the circle, bumping into you and Bucky. Total strangers were spinning each other around, and it was as if the old cobblestones started to shake with everyoneâs footsteps dancing over them.
You looked up at Buckyâhis body was tense with the clear desire to bolt in the opposite direction.
âDo you want to leaveââ
âCâmon now, you two!â the singer bellowed over the music, drawing the eyes of everyone in the circle as he pointed directly at the two of you with a big grin on his face. âI see you shy young lovebirds over there. Donât be shy, big manâtake the ladyâs hand and show us what you got!â
Bucky looked like he wanted to die.
His face was as red as a tomato, and his body was as stiff as a rock. You wanted to laugh at him being called a âyoung lovebird big man,â but you knew that would only wound his pride even more.
You grabbed his hand, and his body jolted, not expecting the sudden contact.
âWhat are you doing?â he hissed.
âCome on,â you said, nodding your head toward the middle of the circle. âWeâre going to dance.â
âWhat? Heyâwaitâ!â
Bucky let himself be dragged to the center of the circle, his feet dragging against the cobblestones.
He couldnât believe this was happening.
Just twelve hours ago, he had been waking up from a nightmare in a cold sweat, and now he was standing in the middle of Jackson Square with a hundred sets of eyes on him.
This was worse than any nightmare he ever had, probably.
âI canât,â he hissed, his voice cracking slightly as he looked at the couples spinning around them. âI havenât danced since... sinceâŠâ
The Forties.
âJust donât think about it,â you said, stepping closer into his arms so he was forced to look at you instead of the crowd.
You took his right hand in yours and placed your other hand on his shoulder. His hand found your waistârespectfully. âJust follow my lead.â
You started moving your body to the swing of the rhythm, pulling him into a simple two step move.
At first, Bucky was like a statueâimmovable and completely terrifiedâbut then you caught the beat and spun yourself out. Your hand remained intertwined with his before you stepped back into his arms with a little chuckle.
Everyone around you beamed with glee. As the saxophone solo reached its peak, the notes spiraling higher and higher into the humid Louisiana air, Bucky finally started to follow along. His long legs found the rhythm, and he began moving with you.
The man on the microphone threw his head back, laughing in pure delight as Bucky finally found his feet. He pointed at Bucky with a wink before pulling the mic back to his lips.
âThere he is! White boyâs got rhythm!â he cheeredâand the crowd joined inâbefore he sung back into a smooth, jazzy verse.
As Bucky spun you around to the music, everything else became a complete blur.
In this moment, it was just you, Bucky, and the beautiful music of New Orleans.
He would occasionally step on your feet, and you would occasionally step on his. You bumped into other dancing couples now and then, but it didnât matter. You were both laughing, getting lost in the moment and in each other.
It was the first time either of you had seen the other smile like thatâcompletely genuine and unburdened.
After everything that had happened today, it felt like things between you would be different from here on out. There was a soft, gentle side to Bucky that you were slowly starting to noticeâa side that made you realize it wouldnât be such a bad thing if he were to⊠pursue Sarah.
As the song came to an end, Bucky dipped you, holding you up with the strength of his arms alone. The two of you looked at each other breathlessly, his face just inches from yours. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss youâjust like the other couples were doing, exchanging sweet, quick pecks as the music faded.
But he swallowed hard, hauling you back up and abruptly pulling his hands away from the closeness of your body.
âWe should go⊠so we can make it back in time for the party,â he said, his voice a little strained.
For some reason, the sudden loss of Buckyâs touch hurt you more than youâd like to admit.
âI⊠sure,â you nodded, straightening your clothes and avoiding his gaze. âYeah. Itâs a long drive. We should go.â
This time, Bucky insisted on driving back to Sarahâs, his excuse being, âYou showed me New Orleans, the least I can do is drive us home.â
With how great the day had been and the good mood you were in because of it, you had no problem letting him take the wheel.
âNew Orleans is beautiful,â Bucky said, glancing at you with a small smile. âItâs busy and the crowds are loud, but I had a lot of funâsurprisingly so.â
You chuckled, letting the breeze sweep over your face as you looked out the window. âThereâs so much more I have to show you. Like the steamboatsâoh! And if weâd gone further downtown French Quarter, I couldâve introduced you to my favorite spot for Cajun gumboââ
Bucky snickered. Here you were againârambling on about your favorite things. But to Bucky, listening to you talk was, oddly enough, music to his ears.
âThat all sounds great,â he said. âJust no swamp boat tours, please. Iâve had enough of those.â
You threw your head back with a hearty laugh. âFair enough.â
The truck slowly began to lose its momentum, the engine sputtering and making strange soundsâsounds that indicated it wouldnât survive the over hour long drive back home.
âUh⊠Bucky?â you asked, sitting up straighter as you watched the speedometer needle start to dip. âWhatâs going on?â
Buckyâs grip on the steering wheel tightened. âI⊠I donât know.â
âWell, stop slowing down! Weâre in the middle of the road!â Panic started to flare as you glanced at the rearview mirror.
âIâm not slowing down,â Bucky snapped back, his voice rising in panic equal to yours. He pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal, but Sarahâs Chevy only groaned in response. âThe truck is doing it on its own.â
âWell, fix it!â you shrieked. âLike⊠shift gears or something!â
âFix it?â Bucky scoffed at your expectations.
He groaned, steering the truck toward the grassy shoulder. He peered through the windshield, his expression grim as the truck gave one final lurch before going completely dead. He sighed, reaching for the keys.
âCut the engine and try again,â you urged.
He gave you a snappy lookâmostly because that was exactly what he was about to do.
âNo shit,â he mumbled, twisting the key to try the ignition again. He grunted, muttering curses as he tried over and over, but the truck wouldnât budge.
âGreat,â Bucky muttered, leaning his head back against the headrest with a thud. âJust great.â
âOh my god,â you breathed in disbelief.
You had over an hourâs drive ahead of you, and with it already being four oâclock, you were definitely going to be late for AJâs birthday party.
âYou broke Sarahâs truck.â
Buckyâs eyes flew wide as he turned to you, appalled by your audacity. âI broke Sarahâs truck?â
You crossed your arms and stubbornly glared out the window, refusing to look at him. Deep down, you knew it wasnât Buckyâs faultâthe thing was a relicâbut with the panic of missing the party bubbling up, you couldnât help yourself.
Bucky let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. âLook, just stay in the truck, alright? Iâll fix this.â
He pushed the door open and hopped out, but despite his instructions, you were right on his heels.
Bucky popped open the hood, and a fresh cloud of gray smoke billowed out, forcing him to cough and wave his hand to clear the air. He leaned over the engine bay, his vibranium hand resting on the frame as he squinted at the mess of hoses and wires.
âSee anything?â you pestered over his shoulder.
âI see a lot of things that shouldnât be smoking,â he mumbled grumpily.
He reached in, his fingers grazing a radiator hose that looked suspiciously frayed. He tried to tighten a loose bolt, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, but as soon as he touched a connector near the battery, a stray spark flew up.
âItâs the alternator,â he suggested, pulling his hand back and wiping grease onto his jeans. âOr the fuel pump. Or maybe itâs just tired of living.â
âCan you fix it?â you asked, your brows furrowed.
He looked at the smoking engine, then back at the empty road, and finally at you. He let out a long, defeated breath and shook his head.
âThere are no tools for me to work with.â He explained, shutting the hood.
âOh my god,â you repeated, your heart racing. âOh my godâwait, so what do we do? Do we call someone?â
Bucky already had his phone outâa damned flip phoneâand was already dialing Samâs number.
âWhat are you doing?â you pestered him, buzzing around him like a fly.
âIâm calling Sam to pick us up,â he answered shortly.
âOhâokay⊠good⊠thatâs⊠good.â
You crossed your arms, your thumb nail caught between your teeth as you started to pace back and forth.
You felt terrible about Sam having to go out of his way to bail you out of this mess on his nephewâs birthdayâand you felt even worse about adding a broken truck to the long list of things Sarah already had to take care of.
âSam, can you hear me? Hello?â Bucky started, raising his voice to be heard over the static. âWeâre stranded onââ He looked at you. âWhere are we?â
â300 East,â you answered quickly.
â300 East. Sarahâs truck broke down and we need aâhello? Sam, can you hear me?â
Bucky tried again, but the line went dead. He pulled the phone away from his ear and sighed, snapping it shut.
âWait, what happened? Did he pick up?â
âLine went dead,â Bucky said, staring at the useless piece of plastic in his hand.
âBut is he coming?â you pressed, stepping closer. âDoes he know where we are? Did he hear you?â
âI donât know.â
Your patience, already worn thin from the humidity and the stress of the entire situation, finally snapped.
âWhat do you mean you donât know?!â You threw your hands up in the air, your frustration taking over. âGod, maybe if I had driven, we wouldnât have gotten into this messââ
Buckyâs head snapped toward you, a scoff leaving his lips as he glared at you. âExcuse me? Why do you always blame things on me?â
âBecause you insisted on driving! And you werenât just drivingâyou were speeding! You were pushing the truck to its limits and now look at us!â Your voice rose as you stepped closer, jabbing a finger into his chest. âLook at the mess you got us into!â
Buckyâs face twisted into a sneer so ugly, it nearly made you flinch. He stepped even closer, letting your finger dig into his chest as he loomed over you, as if reminding you of your place.
âYou know, Iâm starting to get sick and tired of the way youâre treating me,â he growled. âWe had a great dayâwe were finally getting alongâand you went and ruined it.â
Your eyes went wide. âI ruined it?â
âOh, you ruined it the second you opened your mouth!â Bucky barked.
He didnât even give you a chance to argue back, stepping forward until you were backed up against the hood of the truck.
âIâve tried my best to be patient with youâgoddamnit!â he continued angrily. âIâve tried to suck up every petty thing youâve said about me, the way you look at me like Iâm nothing but trouble, the way youâve treated me like a burden on Sarahâs and Samâs doorstep.â
Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a smile touching his lipsâthough it wasnât a smile that held any happiness at all.
âHell, I thought today I finally got through to that stubborn little head of yours. I thought maybe we actually enjoyed each otherâs company for five minutes. But I guess not, because the second something goes wrong, you go right back to the same old script.â
You felt your bottom lip wobble. You kept your eyes down, refusing to look him in the eye.
You knew he was rightâhe had no idea how he was actually perceived by you, and your treatment of him was starting to feel completely one-sided and unfair.
Unable to take his yelling any longer, you shoved Bucky out of your way. He stumbled back, surprised by the force of your hand. You started walking away from him toward the truck doors without a word, but his voice followed you, sounding exhausted and completely defeated.
âWhy do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?â
The sound of his boots scraping against the gravel caught up to you. Before you could pull away, he put a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm as he urged you to turn around.
âLook at meââ
You wrenched your shoulder out of his grasp, spinning around to face him.
âYou want to know why?â you hissed. âItâs because of what you said the first day I met you. I overheard you talking to Samâlaughing about how you were âmerely joking aroundâ with Sarah, and how you werenât looking for anything serious.â
Bucky flinched, his hands dropping to his sides as the anger that clouded his eyes was replaced by a look of sheer confusion.
âSarah is my best friend. I was the one who sat with her through the divorce. Iâm the one who stays when Sam has to leave for months at a time. Iâve seen her work herself to the bone for those boys and this family, and she deserves someone who actually values her. She deserves a real man who means what he saysânot someone who uses her as a punchline for a joke with his buddy.â
You stepped even closer, and Bucky looked more and more blindsided.
âYouâre âjust having fun,â but people like you donât realize that when you play around with someone like Sarah, you leave a mess behind for people like me to clean up. So yeah, Iâve been hard on you. Because Iâm not going to let you come into her life, charm her every time youâre over, and then leave her wondering what she did wrong when men like you get bored.â
Bucky just stood there, taking in every word as they echoed in his mind.
Was this what you had thought of him all this time?
That he was some playboy with nothing but bad intentions for Samâsâhis best friendâsâsister?
âI donât know what to say,â Bucky finally breathed out.
You crossed your arms, tilting your chin with that same stubborn scrunch of your face you did every time you were sure you were right.
âOf course you donât,â you bit out.
Bucky huffed a dry laugh, running his tongue over his front teeth as he looked down at you. Despite everything, there it was againâthat familiar, infuriating spark of yours.
Here you were, being a brat again, and as much as you got under his skin, he couldnât ever look away.
âIâm sorry,â he admitted, his voice sincere and gentle. âI didnât... I didnât think it would affect her like that. Or you, especially. If I had known it was getting under your skin, I wouldnât have kept it up.â
âIf you knew you werenât looking for a relationship, Bucky, then you shouldâve known to stop. Itâs that simple,â you snapped back, refusing to let the sudden softness in his voice throw you off.
âI get it. Iâm sorry, alright?â Bucky said, his voice straining between genuine regret and a growing irritation.
You didnât give him the satisfaction of an answer. You dismissively rolled your eyes and turned on your heel. Right now, you just needed to get away from him, so you reached for the truck door, intending to climb back into the cab and wait in silence until Sam eventually found you.
But before your hand could even wrap around the handle, Buckyâs vibranium arm shot out, slamming the door shut hard enough to make the Chevy shake.
He didnât move his hand, pinning you between his body and the truck.
âJesus Christ,â he growled, leaning down so his face was inches from your ear. âIâm apologizing, and youâre still being a stubborn brat.â
âAnd youâre being annoying!â you shot back, refusing to shrink away even though you were trapped. Your back pressed against his chest with every shallow breath you took.
âOh? So not only am I a player, but Iâm also annoying?â His eyes darkened as they searched yours, catching your gaze as you tilted your head back to look at him. âI can never win with you, can I?â
Your heart raced as you looked him dead in the eye, trying to ignore the way he loomed over you. âAnd what exactly are you trying to win out of me, Barnes?â you challenged.
Buckyâs gaze dropped to your mouth, tracing the curve of it before snapping back up. He shifted his stance, his thigh brushing firmly against yours and closing the last bit of air between you.
âYour approval,â he murmured. His voice vibrated so low in his chest that you could feel it against your own body. âI just want you to like me.â
âI⊠do like you,â you admitted, though your voice came out shaky. âYouâre a friend of SamâsâI respect you enough for that.â
âThatâs the problem,â Bucky said, the complaint sounding like a painful corak. âYou donât like me. You tolerate me.â
With his vibranium hand still propped up against the truck near your head, his right hand trailed up to play with the ends of your hair. He twirled the strands between his fingers with a careful, almost yearning touch, his fingertips gentle against the locks.
He kept his head down, but even without looking, you could feel the burn of his gaze on the back of your head.
âI want more.â
A short, sharp breath escaped your lungs at his admission. More?
âBucky,â you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. âWhat more could you possibly want from me? If I can tolerate youâisnât that already enough?â
âNo, itâs not,â he groaned. He lowered his head, nuzzling his nose against your hair and breathing you in. âI want the girl who was there for me when I was having a nightmare. I want the girl I was eating beignets with and dancing with in the middle of Jackson Square.â
Your heart was beating so fast you felt like you were running out of air.
He pressed closer, and a small gasp escaped you as you felt his thigh wedge firmly against yours. When your hand scrambled for the side of the truck for support, you gasped as as you felt a twitch coming from between his legs.
âBut instead, Iâm getting nothing but a real fucking brat,â he hissed into your ear.
He rocked his hips forward, letting you feel his hard erection against your bottom, forcing you to press even deeper against the truck.
You couldnât believe itâthe man you swore you hated was hovering over you, rocking his hips against yours like an animal. You were pinned hard against the truck, helpless to do anything but take it.
The worst part was that even if you tried to protest, you knew heâd see right through you. You were actually enjoying this. You craved the feeling of him, the way Bucky was grinding against you from behind right here on the side of the road, where anyone could drive by and see exactly what he was doing to you.
Despite being caught in such a vulnerable position, you couldnât help but let that stubborn streak flare up one more timeâmostly because you were dying to see how much more you could get out of him.
You tilted your head back until it rested against his shoulder, looking up at him and batting your lashes.
âIs this it then, Barnes?â you teased, rubbing your bottom against his straining, painful bulge. âYou think pinning me against a broken truck and acting like a caveman is going to make me like you? Youâre even more desperate than I thought.â
A broken, ragged shudder escaped his lips as he watched the curve of you settle perfectly against his cock.
It had been a long time since he had been in contact with a woman like thisâmuch less the one woman who had been driving him absolutely crazy since the moment he stepped foot back in Louisiana.
Buckyâs hands moved from the truck to your waist, giving you a possessive squeeze.
He held you still as he continued to grind into you. A low groan escaped him as the friction of his clothes against his sensitive skin hit just right.
He felt like he was on the verge of losing it. He could have come right there from the dry humping alone.
But he wasnât about to give in that easily.
âDesperate...â he muttered, breathless, as he continued to hump you like an animal. âYesâIâm desperate. Iâve been desperate for you this entire fucking time, and you didnât even know it.â
His fingers tangled into your hair, giving it a sharp tug that forced a gasp from your lips and exposed the long line of your neck to him.
âEvery time I come back to Louisiana, Iâm always hoping youâd be thereâeven if your very existence aggravates me.â
He was always looking for you?
Bucky nuzzled his nose against the sensitive skin there, his lips grazing your throat as he continued to talk filth.
âNeed to kiss you,â he mumbled against your skin, peppering your neck with sloppy, wet kisses. âNeed to stick my tongue down your throatâbet thatâll shut you up for good, wonât it?â
His rough hands roamed relentlessly over your body, bunching the fabric of your top and squeezing your breasts through the thin material. He was possessive, his touch leaving no doubt about who you belonged to in this moment.
You let out a breath as his fingers slid beneath the hem of your shirt, cupping your tits in his palms.
âA lot of talking, but not a lot of action,â you taunted, trying to bite back a moan as he gripped you harder. âSeems very on brand for you, doesnât it?â
With a snarl, his grip on your hips tightened. He spun you around, nearly slamming your back against the truck. Your yelp of surprise was cut short the second his lips found yours.
The kiss was desperate, almost inexperienced in its hunger, but he moved like a man who had been starving for this very moment with you.
You couldnât help but lean into him, your hands tangling into his hair with a tug. You moaned into his mouth, and Bucky groaned back, his tongue pushing past your lips to delve deep into the wet warmth of your mouth.
He kept you pinned firmly against the truck, his thigh between yours. You were growing wetter by the second, and you took it upon yourself to start rubbing against him, grinding your dampened cunt against his thick thigh.
Bucky pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, both of you panting for air. He watched, eyes dark and blown out, as you practically fucked yourself against his leg.
A taunting, low laugh left his lips at the filthy sight of it.
âLook at you,â he groaned. âYouâre fucking asking for it now.â
Reaching behind you, he yanked the door handle and threw it open.
âGet in the damn truck,â Bucky demanded roughly.
You scrambled inside with a defiant grin, your lips puffy and swollen. You didnât hesitate to discard your bottoms, leaving yourself in just your panties as you sprawled across the bench seat.
From your spot on the upholstery, you watched with uneven breaths as Bucky began to fumble with his belt.
âTurn around,â Bucky instructed, palming his cock through his jeans as he finally rid himself of the thick fabric. âFace down, ass up.â
Before you could even get into position, Bucky crawled into the truck right after you.
The truck dipped with all the weight shifting to one side, and he slammed the door shut behind him. He didnât even give you time to adjust before his hands found your hips, spinning you around until you were bent over, ass presented to him with your hands planted firmly on the worn leather of the Chevyâs seats.
âGodâeager, are you?â you teased.
âShut up,â Bucky hissed as his flesh hand found the back of your hair, pinning you down so your cheek squished up against the leather.
His fingers hooked the waistband of your cotton panties, giving them a harsh tug and nearly ripping them.
With your face pressed into the seats, you couldnât make out what he was doing from behind youâonly the sounds coming out of his mouth.
âFuckâlook at you,â Bucky groaned, accompanied by the sounds of his jeans and belt being pushed down. âDripping and completely bareâall just for me.â
Then, you heard the sounds of skin rubbing against skin.
The truck started to shake as deep, breathy little moans escaped Buckyâs mouth. Craning your head to peek at him, your eyes widened at what you saw.
Bucky was admiring the view from behind, his eyes completely glued to the curve of your ass and your wet, puffy cuntâclenching and begging for him. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as his cool, vibranium hand spread your ass wide to get a better view, while the other was stroking his cock hard and fast.
Pre-cum already bubbled at the tip as breathy groans kept leaving his mouth. He was so bigâso fucking bigâand you werenât sure he was even going to fit.
Trying to tilt your head to get a better look, Buckyâs hand immediately left his cock and went straight back to your head, pinning you in place against the seat.
âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing?â he growled.
You winced. âWhat? I canât even look at you now?â
âYou donât get to make demands of me anymore,â he murmured roughly. He guided his cock up and down against your slit, coating himself and spreading his pre-cum everywhere. âNot when youâre bent over like this. Bent over like a dirty little slut.â
Your pussy immediately pulsed and twitched against Buckyâs tip. He probed and teased the entrance, pushing against the tight heat of your cunt to make you moan, but never quite slipping inside.
It was enough to drive you insane.
Despite everything, you wanted him to fill you right hereâright in the truck in the middle of the road, where anyone could see you getting fucked by him.
You started to wiggle your hips, your entrance catching his tip and forcing a broken groan from his throat.
âStill all this talk and no action,â you taunted, wiggling your ass against him. âYou just keep proving me more right every day. Youâre all talkââ
A yelp broke from your lips as his palm connected with the bare curve of your ass. Your body arched, a sting blooming across your skin and making your toes curl.
âYou just donât know how to keep that mouth shut, do you?â Bucky growled, leaning over you until his breath was hot against your ear.
Without waiting for an answer, he brought his hand down again, forcing another yelp from you as the slap echoed in the small truck.
Your bottomâbare and vulnerableâbegan to throb with a pulsing heat. Buckyâs right hand smoothed over the warm skin, and he mockingly clicked his tongue when you bucked your hips back for more, seeking friction from his cock despite the pain.
âChrist,â Bucky groaned, his fingers swiping your sensitive slit. âDid you just get wetter?â
âBuckyâŠâ you whined against the leather seat. â... p-please.â
Bucky froze behind you, his eyes widening slightly as the word hung in the air. Then, a devilish little grin tugged at his lips.
Please?
Did you just say âpleaseâ?
He continued to soothe your burning skin with his palm, his touch gentle and taunting. âSorry, sweetheart. What was that? I couldnât quite hear you.â
You groaned, burying your face out of embarrassment. âYou know what? Forget itââ
Another gasp escaped you as his hand came down hard against your bottom again, making your body jolt. Before you could pull away, both of his hands clamped down on your hips, dragging you back until you were pushed against him.
You could feel the ridge of his warm, throbbing cock resting right against the curve of your ass.
âCome on, baby. I think this is the first time Iâve ever heard you say âplease.â Say it again. I know youâve got a voice.â
When you continued to remain stubbornly silent, he guided his cock toward your entrance, sinking just the tip in.
You arched your back, a needy sound catching in your throat. Bucky groaned, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your tight hole. He wanted to grab your hips and slam you down on his cockâbut he couldnât. Not yet. He had to make you beg for it.
âFuckâcome on, sweets. Just say please like a good girl,â he coaxed, his own voice breaking. âCome on, I want to hear you say it. Just one more time for me, baby. Say please once and Iâll give it to you goodâI promise.â
Just once.
All he needed from you was a simple, breathy little âpleaseââ a broken whimper he could hold onto.
He knew he couldnât make you beg for much longer, mostly because he was just as greedy as you were. He was starving, and he wanted to fuck you right here, right now, until instead of begging him with a âpleaseâ youâd be begging with a âstopâ.
âP-pleaseâŠâ
The word finally broke from your lipsâbreathless and broken. It was exactly what he wanted to hear.
With his tip buried in your tight entrance, and you pulsing and wet around him, he needed to feel more. That breathy little âpleaseâ was the perfect invitation.
âGood girl,â Bucky praised, his grip on your hips tightening as he began to sink into youâslowly, making sure you felt every agonizing inch. âGood fucking girl.â
Your mouth hung wide open, drool surely spilling out and onto the seats as Bucky stretched you wide until you felt completely filled. Your breath hitched, coming in short, panicked bursts.
âGod, youâre so small,â Bucky groaned, leaning over youâhis chest pressing hard against your back. âTight enough to break me.â
Even with your lungs feeling squeezed and your head light from the stretch, you couldnât help the small, muffled huff that left you. You turned your face to glance back at him with a dazed and defiant look.
âMaybe youâre just⊠hah⊠out of practice,â you managed to choke out, a weak smirk tugging at your lips. âForgotten what a real woman feels like?â
Buckyâs eyes went dark, his brow twitching at your words. He didnât give you the satisfaction of a laugh. His fingers dug into the leather on either side of your head and he began to pull out, agonizingly slow, only to slam back into you completelyâfilling you in one hard and ruthless thrust. A thrust hard enough to make the truck shake.
âOut of practice?â he hissed. He did it again, a short, hard thrust that knocked the wind out of you. âSince youâve got such a big mouth, Iâll make sure to fuck that one next.â
Bucky grabbed your hips, his fingers pushing into your flesh and making you gasp as he began to rock his hips back and forth. He withdrew nearly all the way, leaving you cold and aching for a split second, before fucking all the way back into you.
The truck began to rock and creak, the worn leather squeaking beneath your sweaty palms as he fucked you into it.
He made sure you felt every ridge and throb of him, his tip aiming at your softest spots until your vision swam and blurred.
âStill.. got something.. to say?â he grunted between words, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt as he fucked you.
You couldnât even form a syllable. Your eyesârolled backâwere disoriented as he used your body for his pleasure.
All the noises that filled the small space of the truck were filthy. The wet squelching of your pussy as Buckyâs cock pumped in and out of you. The breathy grunts and groans leaving Buckyâs lips. Your gasps and mewls whimpering in the air.
âI⊠hahâmphâB-bucky, Iââ
âLook at you,â he huffed a deep, condescending laugh. âCanât even talk now, can you? Just laying there and taking it. GodâIâve dreamed of this so many times, you know? You, pinned underneath me, finally putting this bratty pussy to work. When I fill you up, weâre not nearly done. Iâm going to use your mouth next, Iâll make sure of it.â
Every filthy word that left Buckyâs lips only made you clench tighter around him, bringing you closer and closer.
âBut fuck, your pussy is so tightâfeel like I could be buried here all day,â Bucky groaned.
He reached around, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing with a pressure that sent sparks through your vision. He felt you flutter around him, tightening around his cock almost painfully so.
âFuckâyou gonna cum?â he asked roughly.
âM-mphâmhmâ!â you moaned against the leather, nodding your head frantically. âMâgonna cum, Bucky!â
A deep, sexy vibration of a laugh rumbled in Buckyâs chestâand you couldnât hold back anymore.
Your body shook against the leather as your walls clamped down on him with heavy pulses. A broken, high pitched keen left your throat as you felt yourself come undone all over him, wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure crashing over you while he savored your tightness.
Bucky clenched his teeth, hissing as your pussyâalready tight as it wasâbecame restrictive and completely unbearable for him.
But despite the tightness, he didnât stopânot even for a second.
It was too good not to.
âShit, Iâm gonna cum, babyââ Bucky gasped, his hips moving uncoordinated as his cock pulsed and throbbed. âFuck, fuck, gonna cum⊠inside⊠gonna fill you upâ!â
Bucky pushed his hips into yours, bottoming out until there wasnât a breath of space left between you.
You felt his cock pulse inside youâand then you started to feel even fuller than you already were. His cum began to seep into your tight pussy, pumping into you until you overflowed, the excess dripping out and onto the seats.
He dropped his forehead against the back of your neck, his hot breath tickling your damp skin as he felt himself start to calm down, catching his breath.
His hands roamed over your hips, giving you a gentle rub before he pulled himself out of your abused pussy with a wet squelch. He sat back on the seat, chest heaving as he motioned for you to come closer.
âCome here, baby,â he cooed.
Bucky gently guided you toward his lap, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your sweaty forehead. Then, his vibranium hand found the back of your head, slowlyâgentlyâguiding you down toward his cock, which was still half hard and coated in juices.
âI said I was going to use your mouth next, didnât I?â
âYouâre unbelievable,â you muttered with a shaky laugh.
You were exhausted, your body still trembling from the way he had completely ruined you, yet here he wasâdemanding more. Bucky didnât look bothered at all. He just flashed a lopsided, lazy grin.
âOpen your mouth,â he commanded softly, his vibranium fingers curling gently into your hair, guiding you back toward his lap.
You rolled your eyes even as you sank down, your tongue slowly dragging up his spent cock. Your tongue danced around the tipâthen beneath the headâmaking him shudder and groan.
He was sensitive, yet he still wanted more. You stretched your mouth open, taking him in as best as you could. He was already thickening back to fullness, responding instantly to the warmth of your throat.
As you bobbed your head lazily on his cock, Bucky tossed his head back against the leather seats with a moan, rutting his hips up gentlyâjust barelyâseeking more.
âThatâs it,â he groaned. âGodâthat fucking mouthââ
But the sound of his phone ringing cut through the truck, silencing him instantly. Bucky stiffened, his breath hitching as he felt around the tangled leather seats. He grabbed his phone, glancing at the flip-phone screen with a low curse.
It was Sam.
He answered, pressing the phone to his ear while his other hand stayed tangled in your hair, his thumb stroking your cheek as you continued to work his cock.
âHey man! I'm halfway there,â Samâs voice crackled through. âJust hold on for about twenty more minutes, alright?â
Buckyâs head fell back against the headrest, his eyes squeezing shut as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. His hips gave a small, involuntary twitch, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out.
âAlright,â Bucky managed to grit out, his voice a strained, gravelly mess. âWeâre here⊠waitingâ fuck.â
He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath as you took him deeper, his fingers tightening in your hair as a warning. There was a moment of silence on the other line.
He was sure the connection had died or Sam mightâve hung up.
âYo, Buck? You sound hurt,â Sam said, his voice rising with concern. âYâall good? You two arenât fighting, are you?â
Fighting was one way to put it.
âWeâre perfectly fine,â Bucky huffed, growing impatient. âYou said twenty minutes, right? Okay. Weâll wait for you. Bye.â
He flipped the phone shut and tossed it somewhere behind him, his attention snapping back to you. You fluttered your eyes to look up at him, your mouth still stuffed with his cock.
âYou heard that, baby? Youâve got twenty minutes to make me cum again,â he said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register. âThink thatâs enough time for you?â
You popped his cock out of your mouth, wiping at the saliva that spilled onto your chin with a smug, little grin.
âBet I can do it in two.â
âOh, here you go again.â
i actually had a lot of fun writing this. now i want to book a trip to new orleans.
if you've made it this far, as always thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. interactions are always appreciated, I love reading every bit of them!
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pairing: dadâs best friend!bucky barnes x female!reader
summary: after graduating college, you return to your fatherâs hometown, disheartened and uncertain about the future. two years later, you have a stable job, a trustworthy best friend and a doting boyfriend who wants to spend the rest of his life with you, and dreams of kids looking like you two running around his farm. the only problem? he's your dad's best friend!
warnings: second person (she/her pronouns for reader); age gap (buckyâs in his 40s, readerâs in her 20s); established relationship; secret relationship; dbf!bucky (they met when reader had already finished college); farmer & store owner!bucky; whipped!bucky; very light angst; fluff; romance; discussion of marriage and having kids; mention of bucky drinking one (1) beer (he's not tipsy nor drunk); smut; kind of feral!bucky; slight lactation kink; nipple play; heavy breeding kink (bucky calls reader mama once); kinda soft dom!bucky; bucky uses pronouns for reader's pussy; fingering; pussy slapping; squirting; overstimulation; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls); creampie.
You let yourself in by sliding the key into the lock, the same key Bucky pressed into your palm five months ago. The house is a single-story ranch set back from the road, built solid and straightforward, the kind of place someone put up when they planned to stay and imagined muddy shoes by the door, a full table, and years unfolding in the same rooms.Â
The door opens with that familiar soft catch, and you lock it behind you, standing at the entryway for a second, breathing in the scent of the place: clean soap, worn leather, a trace of hay and cedar that never quite leaves.
Bucky is still out with the guys. Today itâs darts night at the bar. Your dad thought you were staying over at Wandaâs, which isnât exactly a lieâ you had dinner with her, and your friend would cover for you anytime, being the only person you trusted enough to confide in about your unusual situation.Â
You hang your coat on one of the hooks by the door, before sitting on the nearby bench to slip your boots off. The house is quiet as you pass by a stack of mail sorted carefully on the console table, your attention drawn to a familiar brown jacket draped over the back of a chair, probably a last-minute outfit change before going out. You notice a hole near the sleeve once you hang it back by the front door, and make a mental note to mend it for Bucky tomorrow. He likes to fix things. Always has. Itâs one of the first things you noticed about himâ not in a grand way, but in a thousand small ones. A hinge tightened; a cracked step reinforced; a toaster coaxed back to life with patience and a screwdriver.
You met Bucky two years ago. That night, one of your dadâs friends, Sam, hosted a cookoutâ one of those informal gatherings that somehow turns into half the town showing up with folding chairs and enough home cooked food to feed a whole county. You had just arrived, still living out of a suitcase, still feeling like a guest in your dadâs hometown. You stepped out of his truck to the distant sounds of laughter and animated chatter, when you saw him. Bucky stood by the grill, sleeves rolled up to reveal thick forearms dusted with dark hair. His henley stretched across a chest that looked built by years of hard work rather than any gym. His salt-and-pepper stubble was slightly unkempt, and his sun-kissed skin spoke of long days outdoors.
He wasnât trying to be impressive, yet your eyes immediately found him as soon as you stepped into the crowded backyard.Â
Your dad nudged you. âI get to finally introduce you to Bucky. Have I already told you he owns the local feed store?â As if that explained everything. And technically, you didnât need a recap of his whole life; after all, you had spent the past three years on video calls listening to the exact same things.
âToday Bucky fixed the screen door. Saved me hundreds of dollars.â
âI canât keep up with him anymore; he and Steve are too fast.â
âHeâs such a sore loser at darts.âÂ
Yet, you listened to it all over again, this time eager to remember every single detail about the handsome, older man.Â
Your dad was on the verge of depression when he moved back to his hometown after your mom asked for a divorce, as soon as you left for college. You were worried about him, yet couldnât do much while living on the other side of the country. Then, after a week spent reacquainting himself with the place he had left to follow your momâs dream career, the light in his eyes gradually returned. All thanks to this James Barnes guy who he met at the store while looking for chicken feed. Apparently, their parents knew each other very well. From that day on, he and Bucky became best friends. The farmer was well-loved by the town, especially after taking over his familyâs store, and introduced your dad to darts night and weekend morning runs. And you couldn't be more thankful for that.
When you were finally introduced to him, Bucky smiled like he had all the time in the world. No lingering looks, no measuring you. Just a gentle, steady attention that made you feel seen without being appraised.
The way your name rolled on his tongue made your knees tremble. Then, he shook your hand carefully. âWelcome back.â
Over the following weeks, you kept hearing his name everywhere. At the diner, where the waitress mentioned again that Bucky tipped them generously, never checking the prices and always ordering the same thing. At the flower shop, where your boss Wanda would roll her eyes fondly and repeat, âIf you need help, just ask Bucky. Heâll already be on his way.â Then at the hardware store, the post office, the bar.
Always the same refrain: Good man. Reliable. Kind. Devoted.Â
He helps without making it a favor. Fixes fences for neighbors who canât, makes deliveries after hours whenever storms hit, sits with old men who want company more than conversation. He loves his land, his animals, the rhythm of days that begin early and end with the satisfying ache of a day spent fully.Â
And with you, he was a flawless gentleman.
He never assumed, nor rushed. When he touched you at the beginning of your relationship, it was careful, reverent even, like he understood the weight of what you were doing and refused to treat it lightly. The age difference hung there unspoken sometimes, not awkward but acknowledged in the way he checked in, the way he gave you room to choose him again and again. And well, he is your fatherâs best friend after all. That man trusts Bucky with his own life. You donât think âdelightedâ would be the right word if he found out his daughter and his forty-something friend have been sneaking around behind his back for almost two years.
You lean against the counter now, smiling softly as you fill the kettle. Outside, the stars shine brightly in the sky, an unusual sight for someone used to the constant glow of city lights. You know heâd probably come home later than usualâ darts nights always run longâ but you donât mind waiting. You like this part, too. Being here. Belonging.
You move through the house easily with your cup of steaming tea cradled in your hands, turning on a lamp in the living room, straightening a cushion that didnât really need it. The walls tell his story without trying: framed photos of Bucky and his family posing on the porch in different seasons, several ribbons from different county fairs pinned beside a faded map of the town, and his fatherâs tools hanging neatly as a reminder of his hard work.
This is a man who stands firm in who he is.
You change into one of his old shirtsâ soft and discolored in placesâ and curl up on the couch with a book you barely pay attention to. Somewhere down the main road, laughter spills out of Bartonâs Corner, the oldest bar in town, always crowded with familiar faces. Soon enough, youâd hear the rumbling sound of Buckyâs truck pulling in, older than most of the others but spotless. The kind of vehicle someone keeps not because they have to, but because they care.
For now you wait, safe and cozy.Â
The front door opens slowly, the sounds of heavy steps followed by the low click of the lock. Bucky walks inside, moving on instinct: his boots are lined up neatly by the door before he even thinks about it, and his jacket hung right beside yours. The house is steeped in silence, the lamps casting that familiar honeyed glow that tells him someone has been awake recently.
His gaze goes straight to the couch.
You are asleep, a book fallen open on your chest and one arm draped loosely over it as if youâd tried to hold onto the last sentence. Your expression is unguarded in a way that makes something warm bloom in his chest. He stands there for a moment, longer than necessary, taking you in as the quiet of the night settles around him like a held breath.
Itâs not the beer, he only drank one tonight, almost an hour ago. This dizzy feeling stems from something completely different. Coming home and finding you here, waiting for him to come back safely⊠It feels like a gift he still doesnât quite know how to accept.
Bucky crosses the room quietly and crouches beside your relaxed form. He murmurs your name, as gently as he can. His knuckles brush against your arm, barely there. âHey, sweetheart. Youâre gonna wake up with a crick in your neck.â
You frown faintly, nose scrunching as if his voice has deeply offended you. âHmm.â You completely ignore him.Â
Bucky smiles despite himself, something soft tugging at the corners of his mouth. He says your name again, under his breath. Then tries a little firmer, but you only turn your face into the couch, clutching the book like a shield.
He sighs. âAll right. Donât say I didnât warn you.â
He successfully pries the book out of your grip, placing it next to your half-empty cup, and then in one smooth motion, he slips an arm beneath you and hoists you up with an exaggerated grunt, settling you over his shoulder. The reaction is immediate.
âBucky!â You squeal, eyes flying open as you suddenly find yourself upside down, head dangling toward the floor. âOh my God! Put me down!â
He chuckles, deep and unbothered, adjusting his firm grip on you. âYou had your chance.â he playfully pats your asscheek. âI tried wakinâ you up.â
âSo you thought this was a good idea!?â You protest, laughter bleeding into your words.
âListen,â he goes on, walking up the stairs with careful steps. âIâm too old to be doinâ this kind of nonsense, so youâre gonna have to appreciate the effort.â
You huff, lightly thumping his back with your fingers. âYouâre not that old.â
âTell that to my knees tomorrow.â Bucky grins. âNow hush before I drop you.â
You go still, but not before squeezing his ass hard and chuckling at the indignant noise escaping his mouth. Itâs in small moments like this that Bucky feels that gentle happiness settle deep in his chest.
He nudges the bedroom door shut with his heel, careful not to let it click shut. The room smells faintly of laundry soap and something inherently his. He adjusts his grip on you out of habit even though youâre already stirring to be let down.
âEasy.â He murmurs, more to himself than to you.
The moment he lowers you onto the mattress, you ignite like a spark on the Fourth of July. Youâre on your feet in an instant, arms slinging around his neck with enough force to knock the breath out of him.
âHeyâ Wow.â He guffaws, instinctively bracing his feet. âGo easy on your old man.â
You make a small, irritated sound against his shoulder, half whine, half reluctant chuckle. âStop calling yourself that!â Your face presses against his neck, and your voice comes out muffled. âYouâre not old.â
He immediately feels the tension in your words. Itâs not just annoyance, itâs something sharper, a sleeping thought that burns alive at the back of your mind whenever he makes these kinds of jokes. Heâs noticed it before, the way your smile tightens and your eyes go briefly distant. You mentioned it once during one of your late night talks in his truck, that youâve always hated how your dad used to make them too, back when time first started showing up in his bones. Even then, when you were younger, it scared you. How fast years could slip by, how easily people started measuring themselves in what had already passed.
Bucky swallows and wraps his arms around you properly, one hand spreading solidly between your shoulder blades. âAlright.â He says softly. âI hear you.â
You relax into him at once, cheek pressing against his chest and eyes closed in bliss. âIt feels like itâs been years since weâve seen each other. I missed you.â
He closes his eyes as well. For a moment, the whole world reduces itself to the feel of youâ your warmth, the solid reality of your breathing against him. He lets himself bask in it.
âItâs only been three days.â He teases lightly.
You pull back just enough to look up at him, brows drawn together in mock severity. âStill too long.â
He hums, a low sound in his throat, before guiding your head back into your favorite hiding place, and starting to sway gently from side to side. Itâs not something he thinks about doing; his body just does it, like rocking a restless calf or settling into the rhythm of a slow song no one else can hear. You melt into his body, arms snug around his neck and fingers idly tracing the hair on his nape.
You could fall asleep like this, content in his arms, when he shifts back. The bedside lamp casts your features in soft gold, and for a second it hits him all over againâ how much heâs missed this too. You. Those soft eyes of yours looking up at him like heâs home. The thought still feels unreal some days.
You tilt your head. âYou stayed out later than usual.â
There it is. He feels heat creep up the back of his neck. âAhâ Yeah. Guess I did.â
You squint, suspicious and amused all at once. âDid you ask for a re-match again?â
âNo.â He rolls his eyes. âIâm not a sore loser, contrary to what the others say.â You let out a skeptical hum, prompting him to tickle your sides. You burst out laughing, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as you beg him to stop. Buckyâs grin is huge and boyish as he keeps teasing you, until he eventually gives you a break, enough for you to catch your breath.
âYou know I hate that.â You sigh, still smiling.
He exhales a small, helpless laugh as his hands slide up to your waist, thumbs brushing familiar circles into your sides as if to ground himself. Then, when youâre finally breathing normally again. âIâm not going to the farm tomorrow.â
You stiffen, looking up at him. âWhat?â
âNor to the store.â
You straighten up, now staring at him like heâs just told you the sky's been purple all along. âYouâre sick.â You conclude decisively. âYou have to be sick.â
He grins. âFeel fine.â
âYou never skip work.â
âI know.â
âButââ
âAnd you, my love, are skipping yours too.â
Your brows furrow as your mind starts racing. He can clearly see the gears turning in your head. âDid Iâ Did I forget something? I didnât ask Wanda for the day off. Is it someoneâs birthday? My dadâs!? Oh God, is itââ
He canât help it; he chuckles, reaching out to cup your cheek before you can spiral any further. âHey. Breathe.â
You blink at him, worry softening into confusion.
âI just⊠Needed a day off.â He shrugs. âLife has been hectic lately. Always somewhere to be, something to fix, someone needing my help.â His thumb brushes under your eye. âI figured it might be nice to slow it down. Have you all to myself for once.â
Your expression shifts, surprise giving way to something hopeful and almost shy. âJust⊠Us?â
âJust us.â He nods, trying to not grin. But then you smile, bright and a little disbelieving, and he canât help himself. He leans in to kiss you, unhurriedly, affectionately, and your hands cradle his jaw so sweetly he wants to cry. He deepens the kiss, before pulling away; he canât go too far though, not when you are so addicting. The tips of your noses still touch gently as his voice drops into that playful register that always gets to you. He murmurs, refusing to burst the quiet bubble of peace surrounding you both.Â
âSo hereâs how itâs gonna go. Weâre sleeping in. I donât care that we both wake up at the crack of dawnâ weâre ignoring it. Weâre rotting in this bed until one of us gets hungry enough to complain.â
You laugh softly. âYou always get hungry first.â
âTrue. Then Iâm making pancakes. The good ones.â
Your smile widens instantly, eyes lighting up. âThe ones with Nutella inside?â
âThe very same.â He beams, eyebrows shooting up and down. âAnd then,â he continues, resuming the gently rocking motion, that boyish grin you love so much tugging at his lips. âWeâre catching up on that show we started a month ago.â
âI knew you liked it!âÂ
âIn my defense, the day we watched the first episode I spent the entire afternoon arguing with Mr. Jones over that fuckinâ tractor part he ordered. He kept insisting it was the wrong one, and you know how stubborn that old man is.â He kisses you once more, slow and lingering. âLunch is whatever you want. Iâll cook.â
You open your mouth to argue, yet he silences you with another kiss, small but firmer in intent. âI want to.â He says when he pulls back. âLet me take care of you. All I need is for you to be here. Nice and warm by my side.â
Your eyes soften. âYou donât have to do everything.â
âI know.â He shrugs. âI just want to.â
He draws you impossibly closer, hands secure at your hips. âSo,â he clears his throat, voice low and content. âWe sleep, we eat, and we make love on every piece of furniture in this fuckinâ house. Sounds like a good plan, doesnât it?â
You can't help but laugh again, your forehead now resting against his chest. âYeah. It really does.â
You are the one to pull back this time, as your mouth twitches like youâre onto something.
âBut,â you start, palms smoothing the fabric clinging to his pecs. âsince youâre taking the day off, I suppose I should warn you.â
He raises a brow. âAbout?â
âMe.â
He snorts. âBit late for that.â
You gasp, affronted, and give his chest a light shove that doesnât actually create any distance between you. âExcuse you. I was going to say that I tend to steal blankets and hog pillows, but you never notice since youâre always falling asleep before meââ
âDamn right if I do, sweetheart!â He cuts in smoothly. âAnd add ânarrate your entire thought process out loudâ to your little list of quirks.âÂ
You freeze. âI do not.â
âYou do.â He grins. âEspecially when youâre looking for something youâve just put down. You ask questions like thereâs a second you in the room with all the answers.â
Your mouth falls open, then closes again. âThat is wildly exaggerated.â
âAnd,â he continues, enjoying himself a tad too much. âYou leave half-finished mugs of tea everywhere. Windowsills, bookshelves... Even the bathroom counter.â
You narrow your eyes. âYouâre one to talk. You fix things that arenât broken.â
âPreventative maintenance.â
âYou fixed the door hinge because it âsounded sadâ.â You say, making air quotes.
âIt was asking for help.â
You burst out laughing despite his seriousness, shaking your head. âOh, my poor Jamie.â you sigh, slipping into a dramatic tone as you cradle his face. âAlways working so hard, and not getting a single moment of well-deserved peace in his own home.â
A tingling warmth settles in his chest at the word home, even wrapped in teasing. He stills you gently, thumbs brushing along your jaw, his expression turning serious. Not heavy, just certain.
âOur home, my love.â
Those soft words land solidly, like the final piece of a puzzle setting into place.
You blink, caught off guard, and for a second the humor drains out of your face. Then you swallow, a slow and real smile brightening your face as you lean into his touch.
âYeah.â You bite your bottom lip. âOur home.â
He presses his forehead against yours, breathing in the perfume still lingering on your skin since this morning, and the teasing returns to his voice like a familiar coat. âAnd for the record, I find your habits⊠Endearing.â
âOh, now youâre backtracking.â
âNot at all. I reserve the right to complain while secretly liking them.â
You laugh, full and bright, and Bucky feels like heâs stepping into sunlight after months of dark, cold winter. You wrap your arms around his neck again, and he holds you there, thinkingâ not for the first timeâ that he wants to spend forever doing this with you. Just existing together, right here.
Goosebumps rise on your skin as Bucky lowers his face into the slope of your neck, leaving a trail of small, open-mouth kisses from your shoulder to the sensitive patch of skin behind your ear.
âArenât you tired?â You mumble, eyelids shutting close as he starts leading you backwards.Â
âFor you? Never.â He pushes you gently until you are lying on your back, pliant and open in the middle of the soft sheets.
When the cold tip of his nose touches the skin of your neck, you shiver a little; he inhales deeply, moaning as your scent finally melts away the rest of the dayâs tension. Bucky presses you more firmly into the bed, still teasing your neck with pecks and languid licks, while his hips start a gentle grinding motion against your core. You canât stop yourself from squirming, your chest heaving in anticipation as you feel his already half-hard cock.Â
You bite your lip, placing your hand on his belt, and after making sure that Bucky is paying attention, you slowly slip your hand under his flannel shirt, and gradually hike it up, revealing more and more of his skin.
âGo on.â Comes his raspy encouragement. His blue eyes turn dark with lust, relishing in the soft pressure of your nails as you caress his belly. He shivers once, choosing to help you by removing the shirt himself. His heartbeat quickens as blood pumps hot in his veins, and travels way too fast south.
You barely manage to blink before Bucky is on you, devouring your lips in a scorching kiss and letting his hands roam freely over your still covered torso. His hands trace the skin of your waist, leaving feather-like touches behind. Your back arches as he brushes the underside of your breasts.
âBucky.â You whimper.
âArms up, doll.â Soon, you are left bare, except for your panties. Itâs way too hot in his bedroom, and yet you shiver under his intense stare, the ever consuming urge to have you close bleeds out of his pores.
âCute.â He flicks the little bow on the hem of your panties with a small smirk, and you let out a trembling breath.
âJamie, please.â Bucky slowly moves back to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses on his way down to your collarbone, where he leaves a bruising bite. Still, itâs not enough for you.Â
âYouâre so mean.âÂ
His little grin presses against your cleavage. âI know, bunny. I know.â
He looms over your chest taking in the view, his breath ghosting, sliding over your hot skin until he suddenly gets fed up with his own teasing and leans in to kiss the supple flesh. He grabs one of your breasts in his hand, looking up at your face as his thumb grazes over your nipple. You suck in a sharp breath, mouth parting and hips buckling up.
His lips wrap around your nub and suck, causing your eyes to roll back. Muffled groans leave his mouth and his hips eagerly rut, his hard cock rubbing against your wet core.Â
âDon't stop.â You whimper, gasping as cold air envelops the sensitive flesh when Bucky gently blows on it. âPlease, don't stop Bucky."
He switches from one breast to the other, using his hand to pull and twist on your neglected nipple. You feel your belly tighten and your breaths become quick and shallow. His tongue swirls around your nipple before he lets his teeth gently graze the turgid peak, gently biting down. He is immediately rewarded with a sweet gasp.
He moans against your tits, humping you as you arch up, your fingers tangled in his hair to bring his face closer to your chest. Momentarily pulling away, Bucky glances up at you with glistening lips, then back at your breasts, his eyes hazy.
âOne dayâŠâ He mumbles and you suck in a confused breath.
âWhat?â You whisper.
Itâs like a bucket of icy water has just dropped over his head. You immediately see realization hitting him like a freight train, dawning upon his features. His eyes widen, startled at how careless he has been.
âBucky?â You raise on trembling elbows when he withdraws from you as if your skin just burned him. âBucky?â You plea, fingers desperately grasping onto his shoulder when he gives you his back, sitting at the edge of the bed with his chin tipped down.Â
Horrible minutes of silence pass between you two, before Bucky finally gathers enough courage to be honest with you, and himself.
He nervously twists his fingers. âIâve been trying to let it go.â He mumbles. âTo be subtle.â A low, rough laugh echoes in the still room. âDidnât wanna scare you off.â
Your shoulders drop at his dejected tone.
âI just couldn't stop thinking about it.â He chuckles humorlessly. âWhich is stupid, right? I meanâ look at me. I am in my forties, and you still have your whole life ahead of youâ I donât want you to be stuck in this damn townââ
âHey, look at me.â You stop him immediately, frowning. You crawl at the edge of the bed by his side, slowly guiding his chin to face you. âI am not âstuckâ in this town. I chose to stay here because I like it, and I love you.â
âI love you too. So much. But I donât want to tie you down. I can't hold you back.â He swallows around the unforgiving knot in his throat, shaking his head like he still canât believe he has to say this out loud. âAnd your dadâ God, heâs my best friend and here I am dreaming about marrying his daughter and having kids who look like us running around the farm and calling you mama.â
Your throat tightens, and you swear your heart stops for a second before resuming its fast pace. You are certain it's going to come out of your chest if you don't calm down.
âBut⊠When I think about a future without you⊠It just feelsâ wrong.â
He looks down for a second, tentatively intertwining your fingers. His shoulders lose all the tension when you don't dismiss his touch. Then his eyes land back on youâ the storm inside now a gentle drizzle.
âI want everything with you. Even if itâs wrong, even if it means your dad won't talk to me anymore. Iâll let him punch me in the face if he wants, Iâll fix every single thing in his houseââ
âYou already do that.â You sniffle, biting your bottom lip to hide a smile. Bucky stops short, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting up before he cups your cheek.Â
âI hate myself for wanting this but I can't imagine my life without you. Iâll wait, sweetheart. As long as you need. Iâm not going anywhere. And if you donât want it? Good. Means weâre spending the rest of our lives making love andâand traveling. Youâd like that, right doll? You mentioned you want to see the world. I can make that happen. I know this is all so sudden, justâjust donât walk away. Donâtâ pleaseâ donât say no. Not to me.â
Your jaw clenches in hope to keep the tears at bay. âYou would really give up your dreams of having kids⊠For me?â
He nods, frowning as if youâve just asked him if the grass is green. âOf course. I just want you. Just need you.âÂ
Your voice breaks, raw and bare. Because it hurts to see the man you love like this, and you want to give him all of it, everything. âI want that too.â You sniffle. âAnd I wantââ You swallow down a hiccup. âKids who look like us running around the farm and calling you dad.â
âYeah?â He asks softly, his hands holding your cheeks as if guarding a priceless treasure. âYou really want that with me?â
You nuzzle closer into his hand. âI love you, Jamie. Don't ever think that you're tying me down, or holding me back from some... Imaginary life you've made up for me in your head. I just want youâ I want everything with you.â
âI love you too, doll.â He chokes out. âBut... What about your dad?â He presses his lips together, tense.
You smile, breath still shaking a little. âWell, heâd better start working out. Heâll soon have a grandchild to keep up with.â
Bucky laughs, a real, relieved laughâ wet around the edges, but honest. âSoon?â
Your playful smirk sends shivers down his spine. âWell, weâre already half-naked⊠And thereâs a bed...â
Buckyâs entire body stills. His breath hitches, his brows lift slightly. You can almost see itâ the implication of what you just said unfurling in real time. You really want this. Now. His eyes go wide and his mouth opens, then closes. Then it opens again.
âNow?â It's weak, stunned.
âWhy not?â You tease him. âUnless you donâtââ
You squeal as Bucky desperately grabs you to kiss you until youâre left breathless. Itâs a mess of teeth and tongues, but his lips taste like wild and uncontainable joy. Your giggle against his eager lips turns into a gasp when you find yourself laying back on his bed.Â
âGonna treat you so fuckinâ good.â He mutters, sparkling blue eyes reverently following your curves. âGonna make you feel so safe and spoiled. Wanna worship you every damn night. Youâd let me, wouldnât you?â
âYou already do.â Your voice shakes, suddenly a little breathless, squirming beneath him.
âYouâre so fuckinâ beautiful, doll.â He breathes in, dragging his nose down your throat as he tightens his hold on your thighs. âGonna stuff you full until it takes. Again and again. Fuck you against the wall, the shower, hellâ even the damn barn.â
Your core throbs at that, your legs squeezing his hips.
âBut first,â Buckyâs fingers lightly graze the embarrassingly damp spot on your cotton panties. âNeed you to come once around my fingers.â You whine in protest at that, but you know heâs intransigent about that. He kneels between your thighs to keep you nice and open for him, holding you in place by an arm over your hips. Your panties end somewhere on the floor, and gradually, he starts alternating steady flicks on your clit to slow rubbing motions. Two of his fingers stretch you open, until the first smack makes you squeal.Â
âYou like that?â You can barely form any coherent word, settling for an incomprehensible string of wanton moans as he smacks your pussy again; your hips try to jerk up but he keeps your lower half pressed against the mattress.
âOh now sheâs goinâ all dumb on me⊠Silly doll.â Bucky is such a talker during sex and you indulge in it all every single time.Â
And when he finally lets you come for the first time tonight, heâs rubbing your clit until overstimulation sets in. Then he pulls away and you believe for a second that heâs finally going to fuck you. But Bucky loves to see you soaked, making a mess just for him. And if making your pussy drool onto the sheets means taking you apart until you can barely keep your eyes open, then so be it. He brings his hand back down to give your clit little, quick slaps that make your eyes roll back.Â
âDoinâ so good... Look at her, sweetheart. Crying so prettily for me.âÂ
You glance down at him through fluttering lashes, boneless and gasping for breath as he finally lets you take a break. With a quick motion, he frees himself of his own clothes, leisurely stroking his painfully hard, leaking cock. Your mouth waters at the lewd sight but it's his hoarse words that definitely turn your brain into pure mush.
âMy doll is finally gonna let me put a baby in her.â
He pounces on your lips with a consuming and hungry kiss, and when he pulls back, thereâs a look in his eyes youâve never seen before.Â
âBeen thinkinâ about you round with my kid for months. All soft and happy, with a ring shining on your left hand.â He confesses, dragging his mouth along your neck.
Your mouth opens in a silent moan when his cock makes itself comfortable between your folds, slipping inside you without hesitation. His right palm settles on your belly, and he presses a little, possessive and mindful. The pressure is delicious as his thrusts immediately get messy, impatient. The room fills with the sound of your lovemaking: from your moans mixing together, to your skin slapping against each other, and the shameful wet noises of your pussy welcoming him inside.
âIâll be good,â his voice cracks against your breast. âso good. Best husband ever. Youâll never have to lift a finger, my darling wife.â
You moan, high and helpless. âAhâ yes Jamie!â
His next thrust is deep and intentional. âGonna rub your feet when they hurt, andâ hold your hand through the appointmentsâ fuck, mama youâre so tight.â He groans. âGonna eat all your weird cravings with you in the middle of the night.â
Thatâs when the hand on your belly moves lower, until his fingers are back at toying with your clit, pinching and flicking it, and you keen under his possessive stare.
âFuckingâ God.â He gasps as you clench around him once, then twice.Â
He quickly shakes his head. âDon't do that, donât wanna come yet.â His hips rock against yours as a scolding, and you whimper, feeling the knot in your lower belly ready to snap.Â
âSay it.â He growls frantically. âTell me how badly you want it.â
âSo bad, Jamieââ You squirm, nails leaving red marks along his back. He moans at the delicious pain, thrusting harder. âFuck Bucky, give it to me!â
He shifts, pushing himself deeper inside, and with one brutal thrust he bullies that special spot inside you. Shaking and crying out, you end up squirting all over him and the sheets, your orgasm hitting you so intensely your vision momentarily fades to black.Â
âThere you go, doll. Make a mess of me, câmon.â His cruel fingers keep rubbing and slapping your clit, his abdomen all wet with your violent release.
Itâs only a matter of seconds before Bucky spills into you, pushed over the edge by the thought of finally pumping you full of his cum, and the sight of your blissful, pretty face as you let yourself go. His cock throbs inside you, and then warmth fills you as you sigh.Â
Youâve never felt so full.
Your legs are now sore, itâs the kind of ache that seeps deliciously into your bones, yet you cannot stop a whimper when you try to lay them back on the bed. Bucky gently adjusts them, tightly wrapping his arms around you as he buries his face in your cleavage. âJusâ a little more.â He grunts, words slurred. âNeed to make sure it takes.â
Time passes in a blur; one moment you are feeling Bucky gently rocking into you, the next you are clean and resting on his chest under the sheets, your leg slung over his hip and Buckyâs arm around your waist, keeping you close. He canât stop looking at you, and his fingers draw random shapes on your side.
Quietly, he breaks the reverent silence. âYou with me? Are you alright?â
You nod, your throat still stinging a little. Your index finger sluggishly raises up, touching his naked chest as if to ask âwhat about you?â. Bucky huffs a laugh and presses a kiss on your forehead. âNever felt this good.â
Thereâs a pause, before your whisper catches his attention. âYou think we did it?â
Bucky chuckles again, his fingers gently lifting your chin so your eyes can meet. âDon't worry, my love. Gonna keep you full until we do.â
Steve stops the car in front of your house, noticing how dark itâs inside.
âIsnât your daughter home yet?â He frowns at the time displayed on the dashboard. Your dad shrugs with an amused grin on his lips.
âSheâs at Wandaâs.â He mocks your voice, skeptically raising both his eyebrows, and Steve does a double take.
âYou still havenât told them you found out about their relationship?â
âOh please. Bucky practically twists in his seat whenever I ask about his weekends.â
âYou are such an asshole.â Steve guffaws.Â
Your dad groans as he jumps down the younger man's red truck. âHey! Iâm allowed to have some fun too.â
if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist, just leave a comment or an inbox (my whole account is nsfw, so you need to be 18+ and have your age displayed. it is impossible for me to go through every account, therefore I trust you to be honest and respectful of my rules and boundaries, thank you).
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Seeing if he melts into your kiss
Word Count: 400+
Genre: fluff
Buckyâs sitting on the edge of the bed, boots kicked off. The room is dim, lit only by the bedside lamp and the quiet hum of the city outside. He looks relaxed in that way that only comes from being home with you, shoulders loose, hair falling into his eyes, sweater sleeves pushed up his forearms.Â
You hover in front of him, trying not to smile too much.Â
âWhat?â he asks, already suspicious.Â
âNothing,â you say, âI just wanna try something.âÂ
His brows knit together, âThatâs never a good sentence.âÂ
You take his hands gently, lacing your fingers with his. His grip tightens. You lift his arms up slowly, guiding them over his head.Â
âHey,â he laughs softly, âWhat are you doing?âÂ
âTrust me.âÂ
He does. He always does.Â
His arms stay raised, elbows bent awkwardly, and he looks at you like this is mildly ridiculous but harmless enough to allow, âYou good?â he asks.Â
âMhm.âÂ
You step closer, close enough that your knees brush his. You tilt your head, just for a second, watching his expression, those blue eyes, calm and curious.Â
Then you kiss him.Â
It starts soft. Slow. Just your lips against his, warm and unhurried. A familiar pressure that youâve shared a thousand times over the last few years. You expect him to stay still at first.Â
He doesnât.Â
His breath hitches almost immediately. You feel it, the subtle shift, the way his shoulders soften, how his head tilts instinctively to meet you better. His hands twitch above his head like his body forgot the rules.Â
You deepen the kiss just a little.Â
Bucky exhales into you, a quiet sound that melts straight through your chest. His posture collapses into the moment, spine curving forward as if gravity itself is pulling him toward you. His lips move more eagerly now, careful but hungry in that restrained, reverent way thatâs always been his.Â
His arms finally give up.Â
They drop around you, strong and sure, pulling you closer until youâre pressed against his chest. The kiss breaks only because you laugh softly against his mouth.Â
âYou tricked me,â he murmurs.Â
You grin, âYou melted.âÂ
He shakes his head, smiling like heâs embarrassed and proud all at once, âI always melt with you.âÂ
You brush your thumb along his jaw, feeling the warmth there, âGood. I just wanted to make sure.âÂ
He leans in again, slower this time, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, then another to your cheek, your temple.Â
âAs if a few years would change that,â he says quietly, âYouâre still it. Always.âÂ
You curl into him, heart full, knowing that some things never fade.Â
Tag list: @mirage018 @yelldontwhisper @canvascoloredin @perfectlyfoggycloud @taliiiaasteria @checkenlittlsblog
Summary : You are a brilliant detective specifically hired by the feds to bring him down. He is the feared mob boss who doesn't leave a trail behind him
But when you begin to slowly uncover his secrets and he kidnaps you, it might just be the worst decision he ever made. Because now he's torn between killing you and keeping you.
Chapter - 1
Chapter - 2
Chapter - 3
Chapter - 4
Chapter - 5
Chapter - 6
Chapter - 7
Chapter - 8
Chapter - 9
Chapter - 10
Chapter - 11
Chapter - 12
Epilogue
Tag list : @redstarleftarm, @imnotjustreadingg
Comment below or send an ask to be added to tag list
warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), size kink, dom!Bucky, oral sex (f & m receiving), teabagging, breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation, praise kink, jealousy of a plastic plant, mutual pining, kitchen sex, doorway sex, neighborly temptation, holiday filth under the mistletoe, and one very chaotic child who unknowingly sets the plot on fire
summary: You didnât expect anything from tonightânot beyond cookies, cocoa, and maybe a warm smile from your impossibly handsome neighbor. But the moment Bucky sees you under the mistletoe, something changes, and youâre swept into a Christmas moment that starts with a kiss and ends with far less innocence.
authors note: this fic is dedicated to my very good friend @superbassbuck. paul, i have looked up to you and your writing long before we knew one another. everyday it is a fever dream to me that i actually am privileged enough to talk to you. your creativity and passion inspire me every single day and i hope this fic brings you even an ounce of the amount of joy your writing brings others! merry christmas my love, i wish you the nastiest dilf!bucky to come upon you and deliver the best teabagging of your life this holiday season đ€đ€
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The first snow of December was really leaning into the drama.
Big, lazy flakes drifted under the streetlamps, swirling past the glowing wire reindeer on Mrs. Hargroveâs lawn and the slightly crooked candy cane lights lining Bucky Barnesâ driveway. The whole cul-de-sac looked like it had been dusted in powdered sugar and wrapped in warm white LEDs.
You stood on his porch clutching a tin of still-warm Christmas cookies and your own nerves.
This was for Violet, you told yourself. Totally, completely, one hundred percent for Violet.
The same Violet whoâd stood at the mailbox last week and announced to the entire street that âDaddy burns the bottoms of all the Christmas cookies. Itâs tragic.â
Youâd laughed, made some sympathetic noise, and then gone home and immediately pulled out flour and sugar like your life depended on it.
And okay, maybe you were also weak for the very large, very handsome man whoâd moved in with her in September.
Bucky Barnes. Late thirties. Single dad. Wore flannels that strained over his chest and gray sweatpants that should count as a public menace. The HOA pretended to be concerned heâd put up ânoncompliantâ decorations; really, they just wanted excuses to loiter by his driveway when he carried heavy things.
Youâd tried very hard not to stare when heâd hauled a Christmas tree off the roof of his truck like it weighed nothing, biceps flexing, cheeks pink from the cold.
You inhaled, balanced the cookie tin on one hip, and knocked.
The door opened almost immediately.
Bucky filled the doorway like he owned itâbroad shoulders, scruffy jaw, hair pushed back with his fingers and already falling forward again. He was wearing a dark green henley and worn jeans, one socked foot and one bare, as if youâd interrupted him mid-puttering.
âHey, neighbor.â His smile was slow and easy, crinkling the corners of his eyes. âYou out here spreading Christmas cheer?â
Your breath puffed white between you. âSomething like that,â you said. âViolet mentioned your tragic cookie situation.â
He groaned. âDid she?â
You held up the tin. âI come bearing reinforcements.â
His face softened. âYou didnât have to do that,â he said, stepping back and swinging the door wide. âBut I am absolutely not turning down free cookies. Câmon in before you freeze.â
Warmth wrapped around you as soon as you stepped inside, the house smelling like pine and cinnamon and the faint spice of his cologne. The living room glowed with Christmas: too-big tree in the front window, multicolored lights, paper snowflakes under Scotch tape, a lopsided angel on top. Animated snowmen sang on the TV.
âCOOKIE FAIRY?â Violet barreled in from the couch, socks sliding on the hardwood. She slammed into your middle, tiny arms wrapping around your waist. âYou did it!â
âHi, bug,â you laughed, juggling the tin to hug her one-armed. âI brought some. Think you can help me eat them?â
âYes.â She grabbed the tin with both hands like it was a sacred relic. âDad, look! Theyâre in a real tin and everything.â
âNothing but the best for my favorite elf,â you said.
âI thought I was your favorite elf,â Bucky muttered.
Violet gave him a look. âYouâre Santa. Obviously.â
He pressed a hand to his heart. âUpgraded. Iâll take it.â
He glanced back at you, eyes warm. âKitchen?â
âLead the way.â You bent down to pull off your boots.
He stepped behind you without thinking, one hand settling at the small of your back, guiding you around the edge of the rug. It was nothing, really. He touched you like that a lotâsteadying you on icy sidewalks, nudging you through thresholds, fingers warm and broad and safe.
Your body, naturally, made a massive deal out of it.
You followed him toward the kitchen archway. Violet scampered ahead, already wrestling with the lid of the tin.
You were just lifting your foot to step through when she shrieked.
âWAIT!â
You froze. Buckyâs hand tightened slightly on your back. âVi?â
âYou canât go under yet!â she yelped, scrambling off the step stool. She skidded across the floor to the pantry and dove into a pile of boxes and craft supplies. Glitter snowflakes. A garland that had lost half its fake berries. Plastic holly.
And a cluster of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon.
Oh.
She clutched it triumphantly. âGotta put this up.â She ran back, standing on tiptoe in the middle of the doorway. She stretched. The nail above the frame was just out of reach.
Bucky sighed, but his mouth was tipped up at the corners. âCâmere, trouble.â
He scooped her up like she weighed nothing. She looped the mistletoe over the nail with grave concentration, tongue stuck out in focus, then patted it.
âNow you canât go under without kissing,â she declared when he set her down. âItâs the rules.â
Heat shot straight to your face. You suddenly became incredibly aware of exactly where you were standing.
Right under it.
Buckyâs gaze went up to the mistletoe, then down to you, then away so fast you almost heard his vertebrae crack.
âVi, we talked about weaponized mistletoe,â he said weakly. âYou canât just⊠ambush people.â
âItâs Christmas.â She shrugged, unbothered. âAnyway, you never kiss anyone, Daddy. It was getting bored.â She hugged the cookie tin and trotted into the kitchen, humming under her breath.
You wished you could join her in obliviousness instead of wanting the floorboards to open up beneath you.
Bucky rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, cheeks pinker than the cold warranted. âUh. Sorry. Sheâs been on a holiday rom-com binge.â
âItâs okay.â You forced a laugh, looking up at the plastic berries. âItâs cute.â
âYeah, thatâs what my blood pressure says.â
He stepped carefully through the doorway, avoiding brushing the mistletoe with his shoulder like it was booby-trapped. You followedâdefinitely not staring at how his shirt stretched across his backâducking just slightly.
The kitchen was warm and bright, counter already scattered with Violet's craft debris. Sheâd opened the tin and arranged a dozen cookies on the Santa plate, humming to herself.
âThose snowmen have seen some things,â Bucky remarked, leaning against the counter.
âDonât be mean, theyâre sensitive,â you said. âBesides, you try piping frosting with cold fingers.â
âI never said I could do better.â He reached for one, broke it in half, steam curling from the center. âOh, thatâsâŠdoll. Youâre going to ruin store-bought for her.â
âGood,â Violet said through a mouthful. âThey taste like sadness.â
You laughed, the tension easing. The next half hour blurred into something easy and goldenâcoffee brewing, cocoa for Violet, stories about disastrous childhood Christmases. Bucky talked with his hands, wrists rolling, veins shifting under skin every time he reached for the sugar. Violet triedâand failedâto get more sprinkles than cookie onto her reindeer brownie.
Eventually she yawned mid-ramble, blinking slow.
âThere it is,â Bucky said softly. âThe crash.â
âNo,â she argued reflexively, rubbing at her eyes. âI wanna watch the Grinch.â
âYou can watch the Grinch tomorrow. Right now, itâs bedtime for elves.â He wiped frosting off her chin with his thumb, kissed her forehead. âGo brush your teeth. Iâll be up in five.â
She slid off the chair, clutching another cookie. âCan I say goodnight to the cookie fairy first?â
âOf course,â you said, heart squeezing as she hugged you again. âSleep well, kiddo.â
She shuffled off down the hall. Bucky watched her go, something soft and fierce all at once in his face.
He looked back at you, shoulders loosening. âIâm gonna go do battle with the bedtime routine,â he said. âIf you wanna crash on the couch, Iâll walk you home when Iâm done.â
âI can walk myself,â you said automatically, warmth flooding you anyway. âBut Iâll stick around. You know. In case you need backup against the Grinch.â
He smirked. âPretty sure youâre the reason sheâs asking for a puppy and a pony now, but okay, you can be backup.â
He hesitated, then brushed his fingers over your elbow, just once. âHey,â he added, voice quieter. âThank you. For this. Sheâs gonna be talking about âcookie fairy nightâ until June.â
Your chest ached. âYouâre welcome.â
He went upstairs, his tread heavy and familiar. The house settled around you. Cartoon snowmen grinned silently from the TV in the next room.
You cleaned up without really thinkingâstacked plates, ran water in the sink, wiped stray smears of frosting off the table. It all felt domestic in a way that made your heart ache. Easy. Natural. Like youâd always been here.
When you finished, you wandered back toward the living room, tying your hair up off your neck.
And paused under the arch.
The mistletoe dangled above, casting a small, smug shadow on the floor.
You tipped your head back, looking up at it. Stupid plastic thing. Stupid rom-com rules. Stupid way your body buzzed just thinking about Buckyâs mouth on you for more than the brief brush of his knuckles guiding you around furniture.
You were still glaring at it when the floor creaked behind you.
âVictory,â Bucky murmured. âThe elf has fallen.â
You turned. He was at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister, henley rumpled, hair even messier than before.
âHow many stories?â you asked.
âThree. And a song. And a solemn vow to make gingerbread houses tomorrow that could withstand a hurricane.â He padded down the stairs, eyes on you. âYou stillââ
He stopped halfway through the sentence when he realized where you were standing.
His gaze flicked up. Caught on the mistletoe. Came back down to you.
You felt his whole body go tight.
âLook at that,â you said lightly, your heart hammering loud enough you were sure he could hear it. âAmbushed again.â
He blew out a breath, something like a laugh, something like a curse. âYeah. Seems to be a recurring theme tonight.â
He started to skirt wide, like he had before.
Recklessness surged up under your ribs.
âAww,â you said, letting your mouth curl into a slow smile. âIs the big brave single dad scared of a little Christmas tradition?â
He stilled.
Slowly, very slowly, his head turned back toward you.
âCareful,â he said, voice deeper now, the word more warning than joke. He closed the distance in a handful of measured strides, stopping just inside the doorway, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. âYou keep tempting an old man like thatâŠâ
Your back bumped the opposite side of the frame as you instinctively leaned away and he followed, one large hand coming up to brace on the wood beside your head. He wasnât blocking your path so much as caging you there, his chest nearly brushing yours, his scent all around you.
ââŠheâs gonna forget heâs supposed to be the responsible one,â he finished, eyes gone dark.
Your pulse fluttered against your throat. âSince when do old men look like you?â you managed.
He huffed out something that might have been a laugh if it wasnât so strained. âYou think I donât notice you?â he asked, low. âYou think I havenât seen the way you look at me? The way you always just happen to have leftovers, or spare coffee, orââ his mouth twitched ââemergency cookies?â
Heat crawled up your neck. âMaybe Iâm just a nice neighbor.â
âYouâre a lot of things,â he said. âNice. Smart. Way too good to be stuck in my kitchen letting my kid con you into crafts. And youâre driving me insane.â
Your breath caught. âBuckyââ
âIâve been trying real hard to leave this alone,â he went on, like a confession he couldnât stop now. âYouâre younger. You got your whole life ahead of you. You didnât sign up for a package deal with a cranky old man and a seven-year-old who thinks glitter is a personality trait.â
âFirst of all,â you said, voice stronger than you felt, âyouâre not old. Youâre justâŠwell-marinated.â
His brow shot up.
âSecond,â you went on, heart pounding, âyou and Violet are kind of my favorite people on this street. And I donât bring homemade cookies to people I donât want to impress, you know.â
There. Out in the air, trembling but solid.
Something helpless and hungry flashed across his face.
âSay that again,â he murmured.
You swallowed. âYouâre my favorite,â you whispered. âBoth of you. I like being here. I like being with you.â
He sucked in a sharp breath.
âJesus Christ,â he muttered.
Then he was kissing you.
It wasnât careful this time. It wasnât tentative. It was months of glances and almost-touches and late-night fantasies crashing together. His mouth slanted over yours, hot and demanding, his other hand sliding to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.
You made a surprised noise that melted into a needy one, your hands fisting in the front of his henley. He tasted like coffee and sugar and warmth. The slight scrape of his stubble against your skin grounded you even as your knees threatened to give out.
He pressed in, body pinning yours gently but firmly to the doorframe, thigh wedging between your legs like it had always belonged there.
âBucky,â you gasped into his mouth when he finally broke for air.
âBeen wanting to do that since you brought us that lasagna in October,â he said against your lips, words roughened. âYou know that? Walked back into the kitchen, saw the note you left for Vi, and thought, âWell. Iâm fucked.ââ
You laughed, dazed. âIt was just lasagna.â
âYeah, well, you didnât see the handwriting.â He kissed you again, softer this time, thumb brushing your cheekbone. âTell me to stop,â he murmured. âIf you want me to, you say it once and we forget this ever happened. Iâll go back to being your neighbor with the tragic cookies.â
You looked up at him, at the worry buried under the heat in his eyes, and any nerves youâd had burned away.
âI donât want you to stop,â you said. âI want you.â
Everything in him seemed to exhale at once.
âGood,â he breathed. âThatâs real good, doll.â
He kissed you again, then again, then along your jaw, down the column of your throat. His hand slid down your side, rough palm cupping your hip. You arched into him, a whimper slipping free when his thigh pressed higher between your legs.
âLook at you,â he murmured, mouth against your pulse. âAlready rubbing all over me. So needy.â
âThatâs your fault,â you shot back, breathless. âYou and your stupid henley.â
He chuckled, teeth scraping lightly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. âStupid, huh?â
âDeeply offensive,â you confirmed, rolling your hips down against his thigh, chasing friction.
He groaned, low and rough, hand flexing on your hip. âKeep doing that and Iâm gonna end up fucking you right here in the doorway like a teenager.â
Your brain shorted out on the word fucking.
âWh-what if I want that?â you managed.
That pulled his head up, his eyes snapping to yours.
âYou have no idea what youâre asking for,â he said, voice gone dangerous-soft.
âI really, really do,â you insisted, fingers curling in his shirt. âIâve hadâŠa lot of time to think about it.â
He swore under his breath in a language you didnât know, something that sounded like a prayer and a curse all at once.
âKitchen,â he decided, like the word hurt. âFirst. If I take you against this frame Iâm gonna put your head through the drywall, and then Iâll have to explain that to my landlord.â
You almost suggested the drywall might be worth it, but he was already guiding you backward with surprising gentleness, his mouth never straying far from yours. You stumbled into the kitchen, bumping the counter with your hip, the faint glow from the living room tree turning everything gold.
He lifted you onto the cool countertop like you weighed nothing, stepping between your knees, palms braced on either side of your thighs.
âLast chance to back out,â he said, searching your face.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and tugged him in. âYouâre wasting valuable mistletoe time, Barnes.â
His answering grin was quick and wicked. âGod, youâre gonna be trouble.â
His hands slid under the hem of your sweater, calloused fingers skimming your skin. Goosebumps rose in their wake. He pushed the fabric up, mouth following, teeth scraping lightly along your ribs, making you gasp.
âToo many clothes,â he muttered, already tugging at the waistband of your leggings.
You lifted your hips to help, letting him peel them down, your panties going with them. The cool air made you shiver; the heat of his gaze made you burn.
âFuck,â he breathed, taking you in, pupils blown. âYouâre so pretty.â
You shifted, suddenly self-conscious and aroused in equal measure, feeling the slick heat between your thighs.
âYou gonna just stare at me?â you tried to tease, voice wobbling, âorââ
He gripped your hips and dragged you to the edge of the counter, dropping to his knees in front of you.
You barely had time to suck in a breath before his mouth was on you.
Your head thumped back against the cabinet with a dull thud. His tongue stroked through your folds like heâd been memorizing you in dreams, slow and deliberate. He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core.
âOh my god,â you gasped, fingers flying to his hair. âBuckyââ
âTaste so good, doll,â he murmured between licks. âBeen wonderingâŠfuckâŠbeen wondering about this for months.â
Any coherent response dissolved into a strangled noise when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. His hands kept you open, thumbs pressing gently into the creases of your thighs, anchoring you there while he took his time.
He was unfairly good at thisâunhurried, entirely focused, like the only thing on earth that mattered was the way you moved under his mouth. He listened, adjusting pressure and pace with every whimper, chasing every gasp like it was a star on some private map of yours.
âPlease,â you whined, not sure what you were begging for. More. Less. Everything.
âIâve got you,â he soothed, one hand sliding up to your stomach, keeping you pinned. âLet go for me, sweetheart.â
You did.
A white-hot wave crashed through you, your thighs snapping around his head, heels digging into his back. You bit down on your fist to keep from shouting, a high, broken sound still escaping your throat. He groaned into you, tongue and lips never letting up, riding you through the aftershocks until you were shaking.
When you finally slumped against the cabinet, boneless and breathless, he eased back, licking his lips like he was memorizing the taste.
âGood?â he asked, voice rough, a little smug.
You laughed weakly. âKind of wanna start a religion.â
âBlasphemy,â he said, grinning as he rose. âWeâre strictly a Christmas operation here.â
He kissed you, and you tasted yourself on his mouth, something heady and intimate in the slick slide of tongues. You felt him, hard and thick, pressing against your inner thigh through his jeans.
You reached between your bodies, fingers tracing the outline, and he groaned, hips rocking into your hand.
âFuck,â he rasped. âYouâre gonna kill me.â
You fumbled with his belt, heart pounding. He helped, fingers surer than yours, buckling and unzipping in quick jerks. His cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, and your brain flatlined for a second.
âYouâve been walking around the neighborhood like that?â you blurted.
He wrapped his hand around the base, stroking once, slow. Even in his palm he looked bigâthick and long, veins standing out along the shaft, the head already damp.
Your mouth watered.
âJesus,â you whispered. âThatâsâŠthatâs not standard issue.â
He laughed, breathless. âIâll put that on my next dating profile. âNot standard issue.ââ
âYou better not have a dating profile,â you muttered, fingers circling his wrist, urging him closer.
âYouâre bossy when youâre turned on,â he noted, stepping back into the space between your thighs. âGonna remember that.â
The head of his cock nudged your entrance and everything in you went tight.
âWait,â you managed, one hand on his chest. âCondomââ
His eyes flicked to yours, serious cutting through the haze.
âIâm clean,â you said quickly. âI get tested regularly. And Iâm on the pill. I justâŠyou saidâŠâ
That you wanted to breed me. That you wanted to fill me and watch it take.
The words stuck in your throat, your face flaming.
Bucky swore softly, thumb brushing your cheek. âI meant it,â he said hoarsely. âBut Iâm not making that call for you. You sure, doll? You wanna feel me?â
You nodded, heart in your mouth. âI want all of you,â you whispered. âInside.â
His jaw tightened, something like awe flickering across his face.
âFuck.â
He adjusted his grip, the blunt head pressing more firmly. âDeep breath,â he murmured.
You sucked in air, fingers digging into his shoulders.
The first push burned.
Not in a bad way, justâstretching. Your body resisting and then yielding, the thick slide of him slow, deliberate. Your walls fluttered around him instinctively, trying to make room for the intrusion.
âChrist,â he gritted. âSo tight. You feel that, sweetheart? Feel how good youâre gripping me?â
You whimpered, biting your lip. âYouâreâŠyouâre big.â
âWe can stop,â he said immediately, every muscle taut with control. âSay the word, doll. I pull out, we go back to cookies and Christmas movies like this neverââ
âDonât you dare,â you snapped, then winced when it came out too loud.
His eyes blazed.
âThought so,â he said, voice dropping.
He kissed you as he pushed in further, swallowing your gasp. Inch by inch, he buried more of himself inside you until finally his hips met the curve of your ass, his pelvis flush against your thighs.
You felt impossibly full. Stretched. Stuffed.
âOh my god,â you breathed. âYouâreâŠyouâre in my lungs.â
âNot quite the anatomy lesson Iâd give,â he rasped, forehead pressed to yours as he fought for control, âbut I appreciate the imagery.â
You flexed experimentally around him and he groaned, head dipping to your shoulder.
âDonât do that,â he warned. âOr this is gonna be a very short show.â
You smiled, dizzy. âKinda nice knowing I have that power.â
He lifted his head, eyes hot. âYou have no idea how much power youâve got over me, doll.â
He drew back an inch, then slid in again, testing.
The friction made you see stars.
He started slow, letting you adjust, each thrust shallow but sure, his hands gripping your hips firmly enough you knew youâd have bruises tomorrow. The counter creaked faintly under you.
âYou okay?â he asked through gritted teeth.
âSo good,â you managed. âYou feelâŠhuge.â
Pride flared bright in his eyes. âThat right?â He shifted, angle changing, and suddenly he was hitting something inside you that made a strangled sound tear from your chest. âThere it is.â
Every drag of his cock now rubbed against that spot, the sensation toe-curling, your whole body clenching around him.
âLook at you,â he murmured, watching your face. âTaking all of me. Such a good girl.â
Heat rolled through you at the words. You hadnât realized how much you wanted that praise until he gave it to you.
âLike that, huh?â he said, reading you easily. âMy good girl. Sitting on my cock in my kitchen like you were made for it.â
Your fingers curled tight in his shirt. âIâBuckyââ
He caught your mouth with his, swallowing whatever sound you made next. His thrusts picked up, faster now, deeper, the wet slide of him inside you obscene.
âYou feel this?â he murmured against your lips, hips snapping. âFeel how deep I am? Iâm right up against your cervix, sweetheart. Right where I need to be to fill you up.â
Your eyes rolled, the words slicing straight through what was left of your restraint. âPlease,â you gasped. âPlease, Buckââ
âYeah?â His hand slid from your hip to your lower belly, pressing lightly. You could feel the drag of him from the outside, the firm bulge of his cock pounding into you. âYou feel that, doll? Thatâs me, right here. Stuffing this tight little pussy full.â
It was filthy and insane and you loved every second.
âGonna come inside you,â he gritted. âGonna pump you full of me until it leaks out around my cock. You walk home tonight, your panties are gonna be soaked with my cum. Youâre gonna lie in bed and feel me still there.â
You made a broken noise, orgasm barreling toward you.
He was relentless now, hips driving into you, the hand on your belly keeping you right where he wanted you while the other cupped the back of your neck, holding your gaze.
âTell me you want it,â he demanded, voice harsh. âSay it, doll. Say you want me to breed this pretty little cunt.â
Shame and arousal and something like longing tangled deliciously in your chest.
âI want it,â you choked out. âI want you toâŠto breed me. Want you to fill me up. Please, Bucky.â
His entire body jolted like youâd shocked him.
âFuck,â he groaned. âYouâre gonna be the death of me.â
He dropped his hand back between your legs, thumb circling your clit in snug, ruthless circles. The extra stimulation sent you careening over the edge.
You shattered.
Pleasure ripped through you, your muscles clamping down around him, milking his cock. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cry, nails digging into his back, whole body shaking.
He cursed violently, thrusts going erratic.
âJesusâshitâkeep squeezing me like that, dollââ
He buried himself deep with a final, brutal snap of his hips, grinding against you as he spilled inside. You felt itâhot pulses of cum flooding you, filling you so full you swore you could feel each warm wave.
âFuck,â he gasped into your neck, shuddering hard. âOh, fuck.â
You clung to him, riding out the aftershocks together, the world narrowing to shared panting and the wild thud of your hearts.
He didnât pull out right away, just stayed pressed to you, chest rising and falling, cock softening gradually inside you. The intimacy of it made your throat tight.
âStill okay?â he murmured after a minute, lips brushing your cheek.
You turned your head, catching his mouth in a soft, lazy kiss. âYeah,â you breathed. âMore than okay.â
He smiled into it.
When he finally eased back, slipping out of you, you made a small, involuntary sound at the loss. Warmth immediately seeped down, slick and obscene.
Buckyâs eyes dropped, watching his cum trickle out of you. His jaw flexed.
âThatâsâŠâ His throat worked. âThatâs all mine.â
Heat flared in your cheeks. âI mean, biologicallyâŠâ
âDonât ruin my moment,â he said weakly, still staring. His fingers brushed along your inner thigh, catching some of the mess, smearing it higher, back toward your entrance like he could push it back in. âJesus.â
âYouâre making it worse,â you pointed out shakily.
âThatâs the idea,â he muttered, clearly not talking about your comfort.
Your pulse kicked when you saw the way he was looking at youâlike heâd never seen anything hotter.
âYou, uhâŠyou have that look again,â you ventured.
He dragged his gaze up. âWhat look is that?â
âLike you wanna do something stupid.â
He huffed a laugh, stepping back so you could breathe. âI already did something stupid.â
âPretty sure we both did something very smart,â you countered.
His mouth curved. âYou keep saying things like that, and Iâm gonna forget Iâm supposed to let you walk home tonight.â
Your stomach flipped.
He grabbed a dish towel, dampened a corner with warm water, then stepped between your legs again, slower now. âCan IâŠ?â
You nodded, suddenly shy.
He was gentle, cleaning you up with soft strokes, kissing your knee when you flinched at a residual jolt of oversensitivity. He helped you slide your panties and leggings back up, fingers lingering at your waist.
By the time you were more or less presentable, your legs were wobbly againâfor entirely different reasons.
You slid off the counter, immediately sinking into his chest when your knees tried to buckle. He caught you, an arm around your waist.
âEasy,â he teased. âYou sure you donât want me to just carry you home? Less risk of you face-planting in the snow.â
âThatâd be hard to explain to Mrs. Hargrove,â you said, words muffled in his shirt. âNo, Iâm fine. JustâŠgonna feel that tomorrow.â
âGood,â he said, entirely too satisfied.
You pulled back to sock him lightly in the chest. âYouâre so smug.â
âCan you blame me?â His grin was crooked and boyish. âI just had the prettiest girl on the block come undone on my cock in my kitchen. Under mistletoe. Iâm basically a Christmas legend now.â
You rolled your eyes, but your heart did an embarrassing little swoop at âmy.â
You were about to say something equally obnoxious when your gaze flicked past his shoulder.
You could see the living room doorway from here. The mistletoe still hung there, framed by the glow of the tree.
A wicked idea slid into your brain.
âYou know,â you said, tugging lightly at the hem of his shirt, âwe technically only fulfilled half the mistletoe obligation.â
His brows pulled together. âPretty sure we overshot the obligation, doll.â
âMm-mm.â You shook your head, lips tipping up. âEverybody does the classic âkiss under the mistletoe.â But I was thinkingâŠâ
You trailed off, deliberately letting your eyes drop to the obvious bulge reappearing in his jeans.
His breath hitched.
âThereâs another way toâŠuhâŠhonor the tradition,â you said sweetly.
His eyes darkened, the air between you thickening all over again. âYou are going to be the end of me.â
âYou already said that.â You slid your hand down his chest, fingers grazing lower, testing. He was getting hard again faster than youâd expected. That did wicked, thirsty things to you. âConsider this my Christmas contribution to the cause.â
He stared at you for a long second, something like worship and pure filth battling in his expression.
âKitchen,â he rasped. âDoor. Now.â
Your pulse spiked. âYes, sir.â
His nostrils flared.
âFuck,â he muttered. âYou have no idea what that does to me.â
He laced your fingers together and led you back toward the archway. The mistletoe swung gently above, almost innocent.
âOn your knees,â he said quietly, stopping just under it, voice like velvet over gravel. âRight here.â
A thrill bolted through you. You sank down, the hardwood cool under your knees, the heel of his puppy socks just in your peripheral vision. This close, he seemed even bigger, his thighs thick, his torso a solid wall.
He cupped your chin, tilting your face up. âYou good?â he asked, some of the gravel smoothing into concern. âWe can stop. I donât needââ
âI want to,â you said, cutting him off. âI want to taste you too.â
Something hot flared in his eyes.
âOpen,â he ordered softly.
You parted your lips. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and pushed them down, along with his briefs. His cock sprang free, half-hard and already swelling.
Even after feeling him inside you, seeing him this close made your stomach drop and your mouth water.
He stroked himself slowly, lazily, watching your face. In a handful of pulls he was fully hard again, thick and heavy, the head flushed a deeper shade.
âLook at that,â he muttered, almost to himself. âCanât even get through cleanup without wanting you again.â
âNot complaining,â you said, a little breathless.
He smiled, dark and fond. âYouâre so good to me, sweetheart.â
He stepped closer, thighs bracketing your shoulders, until his cock hovered just a few inches from your mouth.
âHands behind your back,â he said.
Heat punched through you. You laced your fingers together at the base of your spine, shoulders tightening with the position, chest pushing forward slightly.
âPretty,â he murmured, thumb stroking your jaw. âYou look so pretty like that. All submissive. All mine.â
He brought his cock closer, the head brushing your lips, smearing pre-cum. âTaste,â he said.
You darted your tongue out, licking a stripe along the underside. He hissed through his teeth, hand flying to your hair.
âFuck.â
You took him into your mouth, as much as you could, jaw stretching. He was a lotâthick and heavy, crowding your tongue. You relaxed your throat, breathing through your nose, letting him slide deeper.
âJesus,â he groaned, grip tightening in your hair. âThatâs it. Take it, doll. Take it for me.â
You hollowed your cheeks, sucking, tongue swirling, experimenting, listening for every sound he made. You couldnât get all of him inside, not even close, but the way his cock throbbed against your tongue told you he didnât mind.
After a dozen strokes, he gently pulled back, easing himself from your mouth. You tried to chase him, but he held you back with a hand on your crown.
âGotta pace myself,â he managed, breathing ragged. âWant to enjoy this.â
âYou donât have to be gentle,â you said when he let you breathe, voice rough.
His eyes flashed. âCareful, doll.â
He shifted his stance slightly, widening his feet for balance, then slid his cock along your face, smearing slick along your cheek, your lips. You sighed, eyes fluttering.
Then he took himself in hand and guided the heavy weight of his balls to your mouth.
âTongue out,â he said softly. âLemme rest you properly under this mistletoe.â
Heat rush-flooded you.
You stuck your tongue out, flattening it. He lowered himself, his balls settling warm and heavy on your tongue, the soft skin contrasting with the weight behind it. The intimacy of it made your head spin.
âFuck,â he breathed. âThatâs it. Hold still.â
You did, jaw slack, eyes half-lidded as he rolled his hips just a little, letting the weight shift, his cock bumping your forehead. You flicked your tongue up, tracing the seam, tasting salt and skin and him.
A low, broken sound tore out of his chest. âJesus fucking Christ.â
You sucked gently, dragging one into your mouth, tongue swirling. He groaned, his thighs tensing beside your head, fingers flexing in your hair.
âYou like that?â you asked when he let you breathe again, voice wrecked, eyes shining.
He stared down at you like he couldnât quite comprehend you, like youâd just done some impossible magic trick.
âYeah,â he said hoarsely. âYeah, I like that.â
He nudged forward again and you took him, alternating between sucking his balls into your mouth and licking them, running your tongue along the tender skin, savoring every ragged noise you pulled from him. His cock bobbed against your cheek, leaving streaks of slick you could feel cooling on your skin.
He was talking again now, the words slurred by arousal. âLook at you. Kneeling under my doorway, under my mistletoe, with my balls on your tongue. My sweet little neighbor, such a good girl, letting me use her mouth like this.â
You moaned around him, the praise turning liquid in your veins.
âYouâre driving me out of my fucking mind,â he rasped. âYou know that? Gonna have to repaint this frame because every time I walk through it Iâm gonna remember you right here on your knees, looking up at me.â
You glanced up through your lashes, cheeks flushed, drool starting to slick your chin. The way he looked down at youâwild, tender, possessiveâmade your stomach flip.
He let his balls rest against your tongue again, heavy and full. âHold them for me,â he murmured. âYeah, just like that.â
He slid forward, his cock pressing past your lips once more, filling your mouth. You relaxed, letting him guide the pace, the stretch of your jaw borderline overwhelming and exactly what you wanted. With his balls resting on your tongue and his cock sliding in and out, you felt completely used in the filthiest, most delicious way.
âFuck, doll,â he groaned. âI could come just looking at you like this.â
Your hands twitched behind your back. You wanted to touch him, to trace every muscle, to feel the way he shook. But the restraintâknowing he had you like this, knowing you were letting himâmade everything hum.
He pulled out again, letting his balls roll off your tongue. You sucked in air, drool shining on your lips.
âHands,â he said abruptly. âGimme one.â
You freed a hand from behind your back. He wrapped it around the base of his cock, his larger palm covering yours, guiding you in a slow stroke.
âSqueeze,â he instructed. You did. He hissed. âGood. Look at that. Youâre a natural.â
You leaned in, tongue laving over his balls as your hand worked his shaft, the double stimulation making him curse.
âSo fucking good to me,â he panted. âOn your knees, under my roof, under my mistletoe, letting me put my cock and balls wherever I want. You know how dangerous that is, sweetheart? Youâre never getting rid of me now.â
Good, you thought, dizzy and turned on beyond reason. Thatâs the point.
His breathing stuttered, hips twitching.
âOpen,â he said suddenly, pulling your hand away. âMouth wide.â
You obeyed automatically, lips parting, tongue out.
He cupped your head with both hands, cock aimed at your mouth, balls hanging heavy just above your chin.
âSuch. A good. Girl,â he gritted, voice broken, as he slid back into your mouth.
He didnât fuck your throat, not reallyâjust shallow thrusts, the head bumping the back of your tongue, letting you control the depth. Your jaw ached, your eyes watered, and you never wanted it to end.
âIâm close,â he warned, voice wrecked. âGonna come, doll. You gonna take it for me? You gonna swallow like a good girl?â
You hummed, the vibration making him curse.
He pulled out just enough that the head rested on your tongue, his balls once again dropping onto it, the weight and heat pressing down.
âFuck,â he groaned. âSay âahâ for me.â
You did.
He came with a strangled sound, thick ropes of hot cum spilling onto your tongue, some splashing against your palate, some streaking your lips. You kept your tongue out, his balls still resting there, letting him paint your mouth exactly how he wanted.
He watched, chest heaving, as you closed your mouth and swallowed.
âHoly shit,â he whispered. âDo it again. Let me see your tongue.â
You opened, tilting your head back just a little. Your tongue was mostly clean, a few pearly streaks glistening that you chased with the tip.
His knees actually buckled.
âFuck,â he said helplessly. âMarry me.â
You laughed, the sound ragged and delighted, then coughed when a bit of cum went down wrong. He hauled you gently to your feet, big hands steady, thumb swiping at the mess on your chin.
âEasy,â he soothed. âJesus. Câmere.â
He kissed you, slow and deep, tasting himself on your tongue, groaning into your mouth like the whole thing was rewiring his brain.
When he finally pulled back, you were pressed against the wall, his hands on your hips, both of you panting.
âYou okay?â he asked for what felt like the tenth time that night, eyes scanning your face.
You nodded, dazed and happy. âIâmâyeah. Iâm really okay.â
He laughed softly, forehead dropping to yours. âGood. Because Iâm gonna be thinking about that every time I walk under this doorway for the rest of my life.â
You glanced up at the mistletoe. âGuess Violet did us a favor.â
His expression shifted, some of the heat melting into fondness. âSheâs never hearing about this particular tradition,â he said firmly.
âAbsolutely not.â You snorted. âThis is strictly adults-only mistletoe usage.â
He gave you one more lingering kiss, then smoothed your sweater where it had ridden up. âAll right,â he sighed. âBefore I do something even dumber, I should probably get you home.â
âDumber than this?â you teased.
He flashed you that crooked grin. âYou have no idea whatâs on my list, doll.â
He made good on his earlier promise and walked you the thirty feet to your front door, his hand dwarfing yours, the snow squeaking faintly under your boots. The air was sharp and cold, your cheeks still hot from everything.
On your porch, he hesitated, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
âText me when youâre in bed,â he said. âSo I know you didnât slip and crack your head on the tub or something.â
âIâm very coordinated, thank you,â you lied. âButâŠyeah. I will.â
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering along your jaw. âYou good? Really?â
You nodded, throat tight in the best way. âReally.â
He brushed his lips over yours, gentle and sweet and so at odds with the filthy things heâd just done to you that your heart squeezed.
âGoodnight, cookie fairy,â he murmured.
âGoodnight, Santa.â
You slipped inside, leaning back against the door as it shut, your pulse thudding in your ears. You could still feel everythingâhis weight on your tongue, his cum warm in your belly, the deep, ache-sweet fullness low in your body where heâd spilled inside you earlier.
You washed your face, changed into pajamas with slightly shaking hands, then slid under your covers, phone clutched in your palm.
It buzzed a minute later.
Bucky: elfâs out cold. house is quiet. i miss you already.
You bit your lip, typing back.
You: my knees might never recover from your hardwood floor. but it was worth it
There was a beat.
Bucky: the doorway AND the kitchen counter? iâm gonna have to avoid those at family gatherings now
You: we can christen the rest of the house later, itâs fine.
Another pause, longer this time.
Bucky: i meant what i said earlier. pancakes tomorrow. and a date. likeâŠon purpose, not just you rescuing my cooking.
Warmth flooded your chest.
You: iâll bring syrup. and maybe more cookies. strictly for violet ofc.
Bucky: careful, doll. you keep tempting an old man like that and youâre gonna end up with my last name.
Your breath caught.
You stared at the message, fingers hovering.
You: sounds like a pretty good christmas tradition to me.
Outside, the snow kept falling, soft and steady, wrapping the world in white.
Inside, you fell asleep with the phantom weight of him still between your thighs, the taste of him lingering on your tongue, and the image of mistletoe hanging over a kitchen doorway that felt more and more like home.
a/n: my absolute pookie @superbassbuck gave me the wonderful idea of... sex pollen!reader! and today we got snowed in while I worked a 12h shift so... enjoy! not proofread bc I'm feral <3
Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Sex pollen!Avenger!Reader
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: DUBCON (sex pollen), established feelings, p in v, cream pie, f masturbation (mention), fingering, dry humping, oral (f receiving), mating press, pussy pronouns (my favorite), overstimulation, SMUT!!!! 18+ MDNI!!!!
Summary: You and Bucky get stuck in a snowstorm at an old safe house after you get hit with sex pollen while doing recon in an old HYDRA base in Siberia.
You didnât notice the gas until it was already too late.
The canister shattered against the floor of the ruined labâdusty, rust-colored, cracked open like an old bone. You heard the hiss, felt the whisper of air shift, but chalked it up to a broken vent. The air smelled faintly sweet, but not enough to alarm you. The mission was already long, your body already tired. You barely blinked as you and Bucky moved on, clearing the perimeter and gathering what intel you could salvage from the abandoned HYDRA site.
But twenty minutes later, you were hot.
In any other circumstance, that would be normal. The suit was thick, you were moving around, except this time you were in the middle of Siberia and the vents in the base hadn't worked for a long time, so it was pretty much freezing as much inside as it was out, save for the wind.Â
It started almost imperceptible, like a predator ambushing a prey. You walked behind Bucky like you couldn't feel the sweat under the layers of kevlar you had on, like the scent of his detergent and just his skin weren't enough to make the space between your thighs slick.Â
You took your gloves off while Buck's eyes stayed facing ahead, making sure neither of you would get caus by surprise by anything else. Wiping your hands down on your thigh you could feel how hot and sweaty they were, you felt like your clothes were suffocating you from the inside out, like your skin didn't fit quite right.Â
The thing isâyou didnât feel sick. Not dizzy. Not nauseous. Your vision was mostly clear, your steps steady. But your heartbeat felt louder than usual. Like your pulse was pressed to the inside of your lips, your fingers, between your legs. You shifted again, trying to ignore it.
Bucky glanced over as he secured the last of the drive cores. âYou okay?â
You nodded too fast. âFine. Just... warm.â
He tilted his head slightly, squinting at you. His eyes did that thing they always didâsoft and curious, like he was seeing something you didnât want him to. âYou sure?â
You forced a smile, shoulders tightening. âLetâs get out of here before the storm, please.â
As if God and everything holy decided to mock you, you did not make it before the storm. So both of you were forced to hike up to an old safehouse form his cold war days. The trek was brutal, snow high on your legs, but the cold felt good agasint your skin, relieving it even if it was barely there.Â
You unzipped your suit halfway. Then halfway again. Buckyâs eyes flicked toward you for a split second, then away.
You thought maybe it was just adrenaline. Mission high. You told yourself it was nothing.
But your skin was too sensitive. Your breath wouldnât stay even. You were aching, and not the kind that came from bruises or sore muscles. This ache was low. Hungry. Electric. And no matter how you shifted or clenched your fists or dug your fingernails into your palms, it wouldnât go away.
When you arrived he went straight to starting the generator, snow still in his hair. You didnât say anything when he offered you a protein bar. You just shook your head and stared out the window, trying not to cry from how badly you needed to be touched.
You didnât tell him that your underwear was already damp. That your thighs were starting to tremble. That your body was responding to something it didnât understand, something it didnât choose. That you were scared.
He shifted in place in front of you. âY/N,â he said softly. âTalk to me.â
Your eyes stayed on the floor. âI think somethingâs wrong.â
There was a pause. âPhysically?â You nodded, throat bobbing when you gulped.
Bucky didnât speak again. You could feel him watching you, waiting. That unbearable patience of his. That calm. That strength. You wanted to claw it off him and beg him to fix it.
The sweat hadn't stopped. The ache was worse now. Your body felt like it was vibrating from something deeper. Something blooming. Something curling beneath your skin and between your legs, turning your nerves into live wires and everything else into water that would amplify your charge.
You didnât speak. You couldnât. If you opened your mouth, you mightâve begged him to carry you. Mightâve begged him to touch you.
You moved to sit on the edge of the couch, hands clenched between your knees. You could feel him watching you. Again.
âStill warm?â he asked gently. You nodded, he stood in front of you, hand on your forehead to feel for the temperature, not knowing that looking up at him like that was feeding all sorts of obscenities that HR would not like you to indulge in. âYouâre burning up.â
âIâm just tired.â
âNo, youâre not.â You didnât answer. Couldnât. Bucky knelt in front of you, voice quiet. âWhatâs going on, Y/N?â
Your vision blurred slightly. âI think itâs getting worse.â You turned your face away. âItâs like⊠I canât think straight. I canât cool off. And everything feels likeâlike too much. My skin, my heartbeat. You.â
The last word escaped before you could catch it.
Both of you froze for a moment, and in the spirit of not making it harder â for either of you in every sense of the word â he pretended he didn't hear it. âYou should sleep,â he murmured. âIf you can.â
The storm hit harder after nightfall. Wind howled against the cabin, rattling the old windows in their frames. Snow piled up fast outside, burying any chance of leaving until sunrise.
Bucky made sure the fire was steady, the doors locked, everything secured. You hovered near the bedroom doorway, clutching the blanket heâd tossed you without meeting his eyes.
He was able to count every ridge on the wood ceiling twice, he thinks. He's been staring at it like it would grant his wish of going deaf right at this moment, or an asteroid landing on top of the cabin, anything, really, so he wouldn't be able to hear you crying in the small bedroom behind walls that were much too shitty to hold back any sound.
He watched you earlier form his place on the couch, going back and forth between the bedroom and the small bathroom, frustrated huffs coming out of your mouth each time.Â
An hour later, he felt the breeze of what he could assume was the window you opened to get some relief from the burning feeling of your blood boiling in your veins.Â
Now he was being forced to listen to you try to touch yourself into a cure that wasn't coming, and neither were you. At first, it was just shifting. Sheets rustling. The kind of restlessness that could be chalked up to discomfort or cold.
A soft exhale, almost like you were trying to choke down a whine while holding your breath too long. He heard you let out a frustrated and more breathless huff, like you tried even harder and couldn't.
He pictured you on the bedâhips grinding down into your own hand, trying not to cry out from the tension curled inside of you. Sweat-dampened sheets, flushed cheeks, maybe even a pillow clenched between your teeth.
And then he heard his name.
And his entire body perked up like a dog hearing T-R-E-A-T. In no time he was by the door, knocking softly, "You okay?"
"It's getting worse." He didnât ask what it was. He knew. He always knew, didnât he? Those compounds were never designed to be kind. They were engineered to torment. To make relief impossible without another person. Without skin-on-skin. Without someone who could anchor you back into your body.
"Bucky, please." Your voice was muffled by the door but it didn't make it any harder for his cock to start to stand attention to you, like you were a siren he was being lured towards. "It hurts so bad."
His hands hesitated on the doorknob, like he didn't trust himself to see you and not give into it, even though he forced himself to believe this was all the compound talking.Â
He should walk away, should go outside, bury himself in snow and hope the cold froze whatever heat was crawling into his spine. But instead, he exhaled shakily and turned the knob. The door creaked open just an inch. Not enough to enterâjust enough to look.
And fuck.
You were curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your body shaking in tiny, involuntary tremors. The blanket was tangled around your waist, shirt hitched just slightly, one hand pressed between your thighs, the other clenched tightly in the sheets. You were flushedâtoo flushedâand your eyes, when you turned to look at him, were glassy with unshed tears and sheer need.
âI know,â he said, barely more than a breath. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. âI heard you.â You looked away, shame painting your face in shades of crimson like a bruise. But he didnât let you turn far.
âHey,â he said, softly, coming closer. âDonât hide. Not from me.â
Your lip trembled. âI canât make it stop. I canât evenââ You let out a bitter, embarrassed laugh that broke off into something like a sob. âIt wonât let me. My bodyââ
ââwants what it was drugged to want,â he finished quietly. "C'mere, lets try a cold bath, okay?"
That got the faintest smile out of you. But it didnât last. Your hand twitched where it rested on your stomach, and he could see the way your thighs rubbed together instinctively, trying to create friction. Still trying to fix it on your own.
You couldn't look at him. Not when every cell in your body was screaming touch me. Not when the scent of himâclean and masculine and maddeningâwas clinging to your senses worse than the compound itself.
You nod, unable to speak. Anything is better than this.
You barely remember getting to the tub. You remember the way your skin prickled as he poured in bucket after bucket of snow melt, watching it fog in the cold air before settling into a frost-laced pool. You remember the way your hands shook as you stripped down before he could avoid looking, too weak to feel shame.
You eased yourself in slowly. The cold bites at first, like a thousand pins in your legs, up your spine. Your breath catches on a gasp as the chill wraps around your thighs, your hips, your chest.
Then, you felt relief. A long sigh left your lips as you settled down in it, knees tucked close to your chest and your cheek resting on one knee, while you faced Bucky, who was sitting outside of the tub on the bath mat, across from you.Â
The burn under your skin dulls. Not gone, but numbed. Your lungs expand fully for the first time in hours.
âHoly shit,â you whisper, tilting your head back. âItâs working.â
âYou scared me,â he says softly.
Your eyes open. âYeah?â
âDonât like feeling helpless.â He swallows. âEspecially not when itâs you.â
âIâm okay right now,â you whisper. âI swear.â His head finally turns. His eyes land on your faceânot your body, not the waterline, just your faceâand thereâs a warmth there that makes your heart hurt.
âI know,â he murmurs. âJust donât want to leave you alone.â
You smile faintly. âYou never have to.â
You stood like that until most of the snow melted around you, and little by little, you felt the heat come back with a vengeance, making you lightheaded. It bloomed slow, syrupy, underneath your skin, spreading out from your core and licking up your ribs like fire under ice. You sucked in a breath and blinked, thinking maybe you imagined it.
Your fingertips tingled. Your thighs pressed together out of instinct. The cold was no longer a balm. It was a barrier, one your body was suddenly desperate to break.
Bucky noticed right away. âHey,â he said gently, leaning in. âTalk to me.â
You shook your head, eyes closing, a soft whimper escaping before you could swallow it down. âItâsâitâs coming back.â
âDonât move,â he said, already reaching for the metal bucket, already halfway across the room to scoop more snow from the container near the door. âWeâll cool it down againâjust stay in the bathââ
âBuckyâŠâ Your voice broke. âItâs not the cold. Itâs me. I canât fight it anymore.â You were curled tighter now, shivering not from the temperature but from how hard your muscles were straining to stay still. Your lips were parted. Your eyes glassy.
And heâd never seen anything so painful. Or beautiful.
You let your forehead rest against your knee, panting softly. âItâs like my skin hurts. Like it knows what it wants and itâs justâpunishing me for not having it.â
He was a blur of movement and then he was kneeling bside the tub, hand cupping your face and seeing that, indeed, your temperature rose again. He looked at your face for other signs of distress, trying not to get distracted by the dazed look on your face that he would only liken to cockdrunk, which you weren't, hence the fever.Â
You studied his face, the furrow between his brows, sheer proof that he was worried about you, the concerned look in his eyes, his pink lips. You had been fighting your feelings for him for so long, and the compound tired you out enough that you didn't want to do it anymore.
You leaned forward fast, water splashing around as you sat up on your knees to kiss him, sighing into his mouth as you felt every nerve ending in your body weeping with joy, and other parts of you weeping for other reasons.Â
âI need you,â you gasp between kisses, âplease, Buckyâneed you so badââ
He broke the kiss but didn't pull away, your lips finding his jaw and nipping at the skin there. "This isn't you." He groaned out.Â
"Yes, it is." You were gasping now, your body having a taste of what it needed. "I wanted you for so long, Buck, it's notâ it's not whatever this is." He tried to have restraint, he really fucking did.Â
But you pulled away enough to look at him with pleading teary eyes and said âI need you to fuck me,â and whine tore from your throat. âPlease.â
He growlsâactually growlsâand the sound rips out of his throat like something primal, before his hand grabs your jaw and he finally kisses you.
Itâs not gentle. Itâs not soft.
Itâs all teeth and breath and soaked fabric, and your mouth parts for him instantly, greedy and aching. His tongue swirls inside your mouth and his hands find your waist at the same time yours found his shoulder, looking for stability as you scrambled out of the tub and onto his lap on the tile floor against the wall.
Rough warm hands roam all over your skin, stopping at the supple skin of your ass to knead it, his lips moving against yours like heâs been dying for the taste while you rocked back and forth on top of him, making a wet spot in the front of his pants.Â
"Bucky, pleaseâŠ"
âI know,â he grits out, forehead pressed against yours. His breath is hot and ragged against your lips. âFuck, I know, baby. I can feel it on youâsmell it on your skinâIâve been going crazyââ
You grabbed his right wrist and shifted his hand from your ass cheek to between your legs, gasping into his mouth when his index and middle finger started to spread your lips and toy with your wetness.Â
"She's already so puffy f'me, angelâ fuckâ haven't even used her yet."Â Your hips jerked forward helplessly, grinding down on his hand like your body didnât even want to wait for him to move. He swallowed hard, eyes locked on your face as you shuddered against him.
âI tried,â you whisper, voice wrecked, shaky. âThatâs why. Iâmâ Sheâs allâpuffyâbecause I tried so hard to come on my own.â
Then he laughsâlow and dangerous, the kind of sound that sends a fresh flood of heat right to your core. His hand slips between your legs, fingers gliding through your slick, gathering it like proof.
âOh, baby,â he murmurs, thumb brushing your clit just light enough to make you whimper.
âYou poor thing,â he coos, mock-pitying, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw. âTried and tried and couldnât get off with those little fingers, huh?â
âYeah,â he says, a smug edge curling into his voice. âI can feel it. Sheâs been working overtime trying to get there.â
You sob against his neck. âI needed youââ
âI know you did,â he whispers, kissing your temple now, impossibly tender even as his fingers keep moving. âYou lay in bed all hot and sweaty, thinking of me? Playing with my pussy like itâs yours?â
Your head drops back as your hips grind harder into his hand. âShe is yoursâBuckyâshe needs youââ
âDamn right she does,â he growls.
âBuckââ Your voice broke, and your nails dug into his shoulder, âdonât stopâplease donât stopââ
âIâm not,â he breathed, and he wasnât sure if it was a promise or a surrender. Maybe both. âIâm right here. Iâm not fucking going anywhere.â
âI canât slow down, it hurtsâI hurtâpleaseâBucky, please, I need more, I needââ You cut yourself off with a moan when he plunged both of his fingers inside of you, flicking his wrist in time with your hips so you were effectively riding his hand now.Â
âYouâre not ready,â he growled, though his own voice was frayed, trembling. âYouâre so fucking tight, baby, I can feel itâif I put anything more than a couple fingers in you right now, youâll break.â
âI donât care,â you begged, rocking helplessly against him. âI want you to break me.â You whined again, riding his hand harder and his palm came to cup you, grinding the rough surface againts your clit.Â
"Then let her cum for me once, hmmm?" His lips suckled on the skin of your tits, "Make a mess on my hands, y'can do it." He bit onto your neck and curled his fingers in a "come here" motion, scratching the itch deep inside you gummy walls, making your vision go blurry and your body clamp around his fingers.Â
ââŠthere you go,â he whispers, trying to catch his breath. âJust like that. Thatâs it, sweetheart.â
You melt into him, boneless, weight slumping against his chest. His hands stroke your back, your hips, your sides â grounding you in tiny, careful touches like heâs afraid to break you.
It was enough relief for maybe a minute, and when you cuold both feel the heat creeping up your muscles again, slow at first, sliding up your thighs like a tide returning to shore.
The second your body tenses in his lap he adjusts his grip. One arm slides under your thighs, the other around your back. He rises in one smooth motion, holding you like youâre something precious and breakable, even though youâre melting against him like wax.
The cabin creaks with wind as he walks, your skin still damp and glistening, his shirt clinging to your body where it touches. Every step makes you whimper softly. He lets you bounce down on the bed softly. Your legs fall open slightly with the shift in position, and his breath stutters.
You paw at his torso to take his shirt off, and he does that for you. All warm skin, carved muscle and taut want to finish burning you up.Â
He crawls over you until he's at eye level, looking at the moonlight coming through the curtains and reflecting off of your eyes like that was all it was ever made to do. He kissed, nibbled, bit, and sucked his way down you neck, your clavicle, the valley of your breasts and each stiff peak of your nipples.Â
He licked a hot strip down your stomach and tugged at the skin where your thigh met your torso with his teeth. âIâve wanted you for so long,â he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. âBut not like this. Not when youâre hurting.â
âIâm not,â you say softly. âNot when youâre touching me.â
He breathes in slow against your skin like heâs trying to calm himselfâlike the scent of you is both a balm and a threat. Your thighs twitch around him when his stubble grazes too close to where youâre aching, and your fingers tighten in the quilt beneath you.
âI can feel it in you,â he whispers, voice rasping low as his fingers brush gently over your hip. âYouâre holding so much back.â
âI canât anymore,â you say, breath shuddering. âPlease donât make me.â
He looks up at youâface flushed, lips parted, chest heavingâand something breaks. Whatever part of him was still trying to ration this, to survive it without taking too muchâgone.
His next words don't come out verbally, instead he spells every letter agasint your needy cunt with his tongue, circling your clit and sucking it in his mouth, then thrusting his tongue in again, enough to make the knot inside of your stomach tighter and tighter each time.Â
He groans low into youâlike heâs tasting sin and salvation in the same breath. His hands grip your thighs tighter, holding you open for him as he licks deeper, slow and devastating. You cry out, fingers diving into his hair, hips already lifting off the bed, needing more.
âEasy,â he rasps against your skin, voice trembling with the kind of restraint thatâs killing him. âIâm not going anywhere.â
"I feelâ" Another moan ripped right through you as a shock of pleasure sent goosebumps all over your body. "I feel like I can't breathe." You gulped down at the feeling of him pushing his face further into your pussy, but your mouth was still dry, unlike the rest of you.
"Gonna get her all swollen for me, baby." He licked a long strip up your slit and circled your clit again at the same time he pungled two metal fingers in, the coolness of the vibranium helping to push the fever down. "You'll see."
Your thighs shake around him. Your breath stutters. Your fingers go numb from how tightly youâre gripping him. âBuckyââ you choke, voice breaking on his name. "Fuck, Iâ Iâoh, my god!"
He already knew exactly where that spot was inside of you, all he needed to really do was get the cool metal to rub on it for a few seconds and you were soaking the bottom half of his face in slick.Â
Your body bows like itâs trying to escape himâno, not escape, surrender. You canât hold still. Youâre shaking all over, thighs trembling, chest rising and falling so fast it feels like your lungs forgot how to work.
You donât even realize youâre crying until your vision blurs. Until you feel his voice vibrate through you again, a low groan of approval, of possession.
He kissed his way up just as he did down, kissing you when he got to your mouth, making you taste yourself on his tongue, your clammy body sticking to his as he settled on top of you between your thighs.
He pulled away to nip at your jaw and neck, "Good girl." and as soon as the damn words came out of your mouth, it all restarted. Your hands grabbed at his pants like the damn thing called your mom a hoe, popping off the button and pulling the zipper down.
He helped you help him shrug the inconvenient piece of clothing down his legs so he could kick them off. Your thighs twitched involuntarily when you saw the length of him spring free. Thick, long, it made your mouth water and your pussy throb "fuck me" in Mose code.Â
Your skin was beaded with sweat. Your hands trembling where they rested on the sheets, and there was a low, helpless noise building in your throatâhalf frustration, half plea. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze, but it was already creeping back in.
âI need you inside me.â His breath catches.
You reach for him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck, tugging him closer, your voice breaking with something between tears and lust. âBuck, please, I need you to fuck me.â
Your hips roll beneath him instinctively as he leans over you again, a helpless grind that makes both of you gasp. Youâre soaked. Open. Ready. Already pulsing from the inside out. For a second, all you hear is the wind howling against the cabin, the sound of the storm still raging outside.
Then his hand was back between your thighs, gathering slick and a low moan from you to coat his cock with. He stroked himself once, twice, then teased the head up and down your slit.
Just as your mouth opened to complain he was taking too damn long, he pushed in. The whole. Nine. Inches. "God, yesâ"
âFuck,â he breathes. âYou feel soâso good, baby. You donât even know.â
The way he says it makes your stomach flip. You turn your head just enough to see his faceâflushed, eyes wild, mouth parted like heâs struggling to stay human inside this kind of want, and you are too.Â
His hand slides under your thigh, hitching your leg higher, and the change in angle nearly breaks you. A helpless moan tears from your throat before you can bite it back.
âYeah?â he rasps, breath hitched. âRight there?â
You nodâfrantic, gaspingâand your hips move without thinking, chasing that friction, desperate for more, for everything.Â
His hips roll deeper now, slow but relentless, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that makes your whole body tighten. Youâre already too close againâeverything too much, too hot, too sharp. You whimper beneath him, legs trembling as you cling to his shoulders like theyâre the only thing keeping you grounded.
âSweetheart,â he groans against your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours. âYou feel so good wrapped around meâso fucking tightâ"
âYou hear that?â he murmurs, voice thick with heat as his hand slides between your bodies, thumb circling where youâre swollen and desperate. âThatâs you. Thatâs how wet you are. Fuckinâ soaked for me.â
You cry outâsharp and brokenâhips jerking against his.
âThatâs it,â he growls, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your throat. âRide it. Câmon, sweetheart, I can feel you shakingâsheâs gettinâ close again, isnât she?â
âYesâgodâyes, donât stopââ
âI wonât,â he promises, voice dark and hungry. âGonna make you come again. Gonna have you milking my cock like you need it. You do, donât you?â He hiked your leg higher and leaned further, putting you in a mating press that would have your hip flexor crying tomorrow.Â
You nod frantically, tears in your lashes, overwhelmed while his pelvis rubs agasint your clit. âI need itâI need youâI need everything, pleaseâpleaseââ
âYouâve got me,â he breathes, kissing the corner of your mouth. âYouâve got me. Now come for me again, baby. Be good and let go for me.â
His pace doesnât falterâdeep, perfect, almost punishing. His thumb presses tighter, circles faster, and it tips you over the edge with brutal, blinding force.
You sob his nameâhis real nameâas the orgasm crashes through you. Your entire body goes taut, your thighs clamp around his torso, your mouth open on a cry you canât swallow down.
And he watches you fall apart with awe and wrecked hunger in his eyes. âThatâs it, baby,â he groans, hips stuttering against yours now. âThatâs it, just like thatâso fuckinâ beautiful when you come for meâfuck.â
You could feel he was close. Fuck, your brain was mush at that point, if not for the fever and the compound, the supersoldier that was pistoring his hips into yours like you'd die without it. And to be honest, you probably would, at this point.Â
âDonât stop,â you gasp, leaning your head up so you could bite at his chin and the salt and pepper there, every ragged breath of his on your face. âBucky, pleaseâdonât stopâdonât pull outâplease, I want you to come inside.â
His eyes squeeze shut. His entire body jerks like your words hit him harder than anything else. "Need you to fill me up, Buck."
He groans loudly. "Yeah?" And thrusts harder. "This pussy needs me to make her all sticky with my cum? Mmm?"
You nodded franctically, beggin, pleading.
And what kind of man would James Buchanan Barnes be if he didn't just give it to you?
You feel it before you hear itâthe way his body seizes, the way his grip on your waist tightens like a vice, the way his mouth drops open on a strangled groan right into your neck as he pumps you so full of cum that it leaks out of you while he's still inside, ring of white at the base of his cock.Â
He collapses over you slowly, bracing his forearm beside your head, but he doesnât pull out. Doesnât even try to.
Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, trembling. Your hands stay tangled in his hair. Youâre both breathing hardâgasps, reallyâand your skin is slick with sweat, your pulse thudding against his where your chests touch.
He nuzzles into your neck, still inside, still throbbing, his voice cracked and low.
âShit,â he breathes.
Your fingers rake softly through the short hair at the nape of his neck. âItâs okay,â you whisper, voice hoarse. âYou didnât hurt me.â
âThatâs not why Iâmââ He stops himself. Swallows. His lips graze your skin. âIâve just neverâŠÂ had someone like that before.â
You smile faintly, even through the haze. âYouâve never had someone beg you to breed them like a feral animal in heat?â
He huffs out a breath thatâs half groan, half laugh, but his eyes flicker up to yours.
âYou were serious, werenât you?â he says, quiet now. âAbout⊠needing it. Needing me. That way.â
You nodded sheepishly, the primal need in you giving space to clarity. âI wanted you before. I still want you now. And IâI didnât want it to stop. Even when it hurt.â
He cups your jaw with one hand, thumb stroking your cheek. âYou scared the shit out of me.â
âI know.â You sighed, "I'm sorry."
âIâve never seen you like that. Never seen anyone like that.â His brows furrow, and his voice drops even lower. âI wouldâve done anything to take the pain away. I still would.â
âYou did,â you whisper. He looks at you like he doesnât believe it. You tighten your arms around him. âYou took it away, Bucky. You made it quiet.â Thereâs a long silence, full of his breath against your neck, your fingers drawing slow circles on his back.
Then you murmur, âYou can move now⊠if you want.â He shifts his hips just slightly, still buried deepâand both of you moan.
His head drops again. âFuck no,â he mutters. âYou think Iâm going anywhere after that?â
a/n: don't ask me what kind of demon possessed me, I was writing the pussyjob scene for clean, got horny, and decided to keep the momentum going, for the love of all that is holy PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!!!
pairing: (ex)boyfriendâs dad!bucky barnes x female!reader
summary: you catch your boyfriend having sex with another girl at your neighbourâs halloween party. bucky barnes, his hot and caring dad, comforts you.
warnings: second person (she/her pronouns for reader); mentions of reader's family; original characters; boyfriendâs dad!bucky; age gap (readerâs in her 20s; bucky's 40+); cheating; light angst; hurt/comfort; swearing; smut; size difference; kind of dom!bucky; slightly possessive!bucky; oral (f receiving); unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls); rough sex.
word count: over 12k (sorry)
a/n: happy halloween đ hope you're all doing good!
big disclaimer: I just wanted to say that I read around some complains about stories in which the reader has preferences in terms of food, colors, style, etc. I always try to be as neutral as possible, but at least for me, it's very hard to not put random facts about what I imagine the protagonist's life to be and her preferences. I'm sorry if that's not your cup of tea, but I honestly love when authors give their reader likes, dislikes, etc. even if they don't align with my preferences.
that being said, hope you'll enjoy this one-shot đ»
The retail store is too bright and colorful compared to the stormy sky outside.Â
You and your friends have been coming here to buy toys and Halloween costumes since you were in middle school, when Yelenaâs older sister used to chauffeur you all around, since she was the only one old enough to drive. Each Halloween, you and your friends planned a big sleepover: a whole night spent watching mildly scary movies, gossiping about the cutest guys in town, and eating junk food until you all got a stomachache.Â
Throughout high school, your older neighbor's extravagant Halloween party, hosted in her huge mansion, started to be the talk of the town. You didnât consider yourself much of a party girl, yet you agreed to show up with your friends just for the chance to dress up and flaunt around your elaborated costumes.
When college began, you four enrolled in different universities all over the state. Almost a year slipped by since the last time you hugged, laughed and shared the same space, until you all agreed to meet this Halloween; it would probably be the last time before graduation, since you are all busy with your own studies, hence you are ready to make the most out of these three days together.
The store looks exactly the same as it did ten years ago: fake cobwebs dangling from the white ceiling, evil-looking pumpkins staring down customers from the shelves, racks of masks and toys that in the past seemed endless. Now, you swear everything looks much smaller than it used to be. Though the air still smells of dust and cheap plastic; strangely, it's that weird chemical tang coming from the latex masks hung on the sides that makes this place so familiar.
The first room is completely dedicated to rows and rows of toys for kids, while the secondâ which is normally a storage room, is full of costumes and accessories messily arranged. From the ceiling, a dozen paper bats sway, sluggishly spinning in the cold wind leaking in from the old windows. Somewhere on the counter, a motion-sensor witch embraces a plastic pumpkin-shaped bowl full of sweets, laughing like a banshee every time someone tries to take a candy. The sagging, orange letters reading HAPPY HALLOWEEN hang in front of the counter, and youâre pretty sure the owner has been leaving it there all year round since you were little.
The store certainly looked scarier when you were younger. Now, it seems like the kind of place that tries too hard to be fun and spooky at the same time, but ends up appearing quite goofy and messy.Â
A frowning Wanda browses through angel wings and synthetic, lavish princess robes to find something less glittery and more gothic; while Yelena attempts to give you a heart attack by hovering behind you with different clown masks on. Kate is set to find a Wednesday Addams costume, being obsessed with the homonymous show lately. You already have an outfit at home: a short skirt and a lace top paired with sparkling boots, the colors being an homage to your favorite Barbie doll. You're still bitter about how you couldn't attend Rachel's Halloween party in senior year because of fucking chickenpox that you caught from Kate. That time you had planned to dress up as your favorite Barbie; you had everything ready, that costume was flawless. Yet you ended up in your fleece pajamas under the covers, peeking from behind your pillow at Art the Clown mauling people, while the muffled music coming from the neighboring mansion made your walls literally vibrate.
Still, you decided to tag along for old time's sake. Itâs fun to check out different costumes, and maybe youâll find some accessories to add to your own.Â
âBlack or maroon?â Wanda lifts two identical dresses but in different shades. Kate hums, absently twirling a wig in her hands as she examines the fabrics.Â
âBlack.â
âHm, maroon is better. It suits the color of her hair.â You answer without looking, scrutinizing a bloody lab coat before placing it back on the rack with a grimace.
âYelena?â Wanda turns towards the blonde, busy trying to stab her own finger with a fake knife to test its sharpening.
âIs that even a question? You are obsessed with red and all its shade.âÂ
âYeah, but this dress looks cute in both colors.â Her eyes move from one robe to the other, before putting the black one back at its place. âAlright, Iâm done. Have you found anything interesting yet?â
âI canât believe they donât have a Wednesday costume, itâs one of the most popular shows ever.â Kate huffs out, quickly going through the plastic bags for the third time.Â
âYou know online shopping is a thing, right?â Yelena quips, throwing the knife back into the display bin. âOr just buy a black dress with a white collar.â
âBut I wanted the school uniform.â Yelena rolls her eyes, already tinkering with a pair of popping eye glasses.
âHey, is Nathan coming?â You startle a little, not expecting Wanda so close to your side. You turn towards her, holding some fake vampire teeth.
âYep, heâll get here just in time for the party.â A disgusted ugh echoes behind you, and a small smile takes over your face.Â
Itâs not a secret that Yelena canât stand your boyfriend of two years, Nathan Barnes. They met only once, and he immediately caught on to her displeasure. He tried to get the reason out of you, although you always pretended to not know why, stating that your friend's just like that. In truth, you knew very well why every word he speaks sounds like a fork scraping a plate to her. Throughout the first months of your budding relationship, he used to disappear a lot, ghosting your texts only to return with grand gestures after a week. It confused you a lot, and Yelena in particular spent hours on the phone trying to calm you down, warning you about his unreliability. It was weird, and for a while you thought he simply liked to fool around with girls, the kind that would ditch the current "old toy" for a new, shiny one.Â
After a few months of uncertainty, he surprised you out of nowhere just before Christmas. He appeared on the doorstep of your dorm room, apologizing and explaining with great shame his parentsâ relationship. He didnât reveal much, especially why they have been divorced for over ten years, just that the situation had become unbearable, too toxic, and he never really grew up valuing commitment. However, Nathan claimed to like you a lot, and wished to pursue something serious with you.
Yelena was pissed off, she couldn't believe you left him off the hook so easily. There was little to no groveling, which in her opinion had to be the bare minimum after the emotional rollercoaster he put you through. She knows in her heart he is going to hurt you badly someday. The last thing your friend wants is to see you miserable, especially for a dumbass like him. Yet, she doesnât trust Nathan one bit, and she made it pretty clear when you announced you started dating seriously. You know Yelena is very stubborn and you canât blame her for having such strong opinions about him; she was the one comforting you throughout the white nights spent wondering why Nathan withdrew all of a sudden, when everything was going so well. And itâs not like she spends every second berating him; if youâre talking about him, she allows herself a few sarcastic comments that actually make you giggle as well, but that's all.
âOh, so Casper finally made the effort to join you.â Thatâs another thing, she wonât call him by his name. When you were busy crying over him, she would use different funny nicknames to make you laugh. Casper is a new one, inspired by the fact that he's been very busy with his studies you barely see him.
âHis teachers are giving him hell, cut him some slack, Lena. Heâs always locked up in the library with his classmates for assignments and group projects.â Wanda eyes you with sympathy, nodding along each sentence. âI always tell him to text me when he gets home, but heâs so exhausted he forgets. The few times he remembers itâs like two, three in the morning.â Your attempt to justify his behavior makes Yelena raises her eyebrows, but for once she decides to not fire back, simply shaking her head with a tired half-smile.
You and Nathan met at the beginning of your first academic year. He and his dad had just moved to your hometown; apparently, his father had enough of chaotic metropolis and decided to start working from home. Home being his motherâs hometown. His family had never actually lived here; when Nathanâs grandparents got married, they moved to New York and never came back.Â
Therefore, Nathan, who told you heâs been living with his dad since the divorce, enrolled in the nearest university to stay close to him. Since youâve been going steady, you started traveling together; after all, he had a shiny, fully functioning carâ unlike you. And thatâs when he finally introduced you to his dad, James Buchanan Barnes.Â
Now, Nathan is very handsome, and after meeting Mr. Barnes you can definitely see why. Though, the older Barnes is on another level. For starters, heâs not just handsome. The man is hot. Yes, he might have a few tuffs of white hair in his beard. Yes, crowâs feet appear every time his gorgeous smile brightens his face⊠But theyâre just little details that at the end of they day add to his charm.Â
Heâs big, so much bigger than you, in terms of height and muscles. And heâs a fucking gentleman. Whenever you stay over for either lunch or dinner, he always serves you first; he categorically refuses to let you do anything, stating that his son is old enough to clean after himself.
The first time he pulled out the table chair for you, your heart dropped to your stomach.Â
You swear he came straight off from a different era, and not in a bad way! Heâs very caring and soft-spoken, but rigorous when needed, especially when Nathan argues with him for stupid stuff.Â
Since last spring, your boyfriend has been buried in projects and assignments, therefore you've often gone back home alone. Mr. Barnesâ or well, Bucky, as he insists you call him, met you at the local supermarket one day and after his usual warm greeting, he encouraged you to come by and say hi.
âEven if Nathan isnât home, it doesnât mean youâre not welcome.âÂ
Despite your nervousness, you went over more times than you want to admit. Mr. Barnes is a pleasant man to be around, and often your conversations range from ridiculous memes he canât understand to serious topics concerning todayâs society. Many times you find yourself confiding your problems to him, and no matter what it is, he seems to always know what to say to soothe you. Most importantly, he speaks and treats you like the adult that you are. Itâs like he doesnât even notice the age difference between you two, also completely disregarding the fact that you are his sonâs girlfriend, since he considers you a friend.Â
Itâs almost mortifying if you reflect about Mr. Barnes being there for you more than your actual boyfriend. Nathan often replies so late, apologizing because of a group project that completely took over his mind, or because his friendsâ which he claims to see even less than you, had finally succeeded in dragging him out of the university library for a drink. More often than not he brushes aside your texts asking about his papers, steering the conversation until he coaxes you to recount your day, before not replying for the next four hours.
Yes, you had some suspicions at first and that makes you quite ashamed now. You never told anyone, not even your friends, but you have actually gone to his faculty library to spy on him. Well, not really to spy. You just needed to make sure he was actually there studying. After you saw him neck deep in his books, you quickly left the area, not having the courage to text him back when he contacted you that same night to let you know he was home.Â
You feel even guiltier if you think about the many times your mind travelled to Mr. Barnes whenever you saw a cat meme, or simply because you needed an opinion on one of your assignments. He has always been there, even if heâs overwhelmed by emails and legal documents, he still finds the time to text an apology for his temporary inability to give you his full attention. You told him he didnât need to do that; you know heâs busy, especially in the morning, so he doesnât need to take even more time away from his job just to clarify heâs not ignoring you and will answer later. Of course he didnât listen, still keeping the habit going.
During one of your weekly video calls with your friends, Kate asked you how Nathan was, noticing how she hasnât been seeing him walk by in the background for a while. You explained how busy he's been with his studies and the conversation ended there.Â
Later, while talking about food, you mentioned how Mr. Barnes had suggested a new restaurant he was sure you would enjoy. You and your friends love to try new cuisines together, and Mr. Barnes had made it his task to recommend new establishments he went to with his colleagues, and friends. An unsettling silence fell upon your headphones, and that caused your eyes to move from the blanket you were knitting, landing on your friends' half-smug half-astonished faces. You dismissed their prying questions, making it clear that you just like to spend time with him since heâs very nice and funny to be around, but they still tease you about having a small crush on the older man.
The joke got out of hand when the week after, you inadvertently blurted out that the blanket you were working on was for Mr. Barnesâ he discovered your little hobby and told you he would love to have something made by you. Yelena was over the moon, literally kneeling on the floor as she started begging you to fuck Nathanâs dad. Again, you awkwardly laughed it off while your cheeks heated up with shame. The urge to hide yourself under your bedsheets was so strong your hand raised reflexively to hang up.
Only when Wanda took the matter into her hands and declared that there was nothing wrong about you being friends with your incredibly hot sort of father-in-law, the weight on your chest eased a little.Â
You arenât doing anything wrong, you're just two adults being friends, texting each other and enjoying a cup of tea together whenever you are in town. It just so happens he is your totally-not absent boyfriendâs dad.
You like Nathan, a lot. And he likes you as much. Life has just been life, and youâre sure everything is going to get back to normal once you both get that damn piece of paper in your hands. Every couple has its highs and lows.
Itâs just a rough patch.
The walls of the lavish mansion rattle to the beat of the pulsing bass. This year your neighbor outdid herself, you have to admit that. Rachel was the ultimate popular girl; rich parents, cheer captain of the only high school in town, and glossy dark waves that every girl tried so bad to imitate. Everyone wanted to be her, but few had the privilege to sit at her table. She wasnât the stereotypical mean girl, just very ambitious. And rich. Her pretty features sharpened since the last time you saw her, and after she successfully enrolled in one of the most prestigious law schools of the country, you and many others thought she would leave behind her days of immoderate drinking and absurdly wild parties.
Well, not really. The rumor of her renowned boisterous Halloween parties spread throughout the surrounding towns, until it became an unmissable event; so many people counted on her keeping the tradition up after finishing high school, and now she comes back every year, bringing along more and more people, to host the biggest party of the county.Â
One look at the claustrophobic living room now turned dance floor makes your lungs constrict, the strobe lights specifically added for the event definitely arenât helping as the bright beams keep blinding you. Costumes blur together as you push through the crowdâ a dozen demons, three cowboys, Rachel and her two best friends as the iconic Plastics. Every time you believe to have seen the flash of Nathanâs leather jacket, or the shape of his shoulders, it turns out to be someone else. He told you he didnât have the time to think about a costume, so he simply gathered a leather biker jacket and some black trousers to pass as Danny Zuko from Grease. He got home around four, but you and your friends had already planned to spend the afternoon getting ready, so you agreed to meet at the party. He texted you an hour ago saying he had just parked, yet you havenât caught a single glimpse of his dark hair yet.Â
Laughter ripples through Michael Jacksonâs Thriller from a group of people you donât recognize leaning against the kitchen counter; someone spills a drink right in front of you, almost splashing the dark liquid on your top. A group of guys holler like animals when one of them successfully completes a keg stand; if your temples werenât pulsing with a raging headache, you would have bursted out laughing at the scene: six drunk guys wearing plastic bags with a cardboard attached to their front reading condom all hugging each other. Nathan would love it.
Right, Nathan. Where the fuck is he?
âHey!â Your shoulders jump as your name is screamed over Disturbia, Yelena and Wanda suddenly appearing respectively at your right and left side.Â
âOh, itâs you.â You sigh, half-relieved. They take you by the arms, steering you towards the open patio windows overlooking the huge backyard. âHave you seen Nathan?âÂ
Your head sharply turns left as you walk by a group by the punch bowls, but itâs just a random guy dressed up in leather.Â
âNope.â Yelena grumbles something else you donât catch, but at that moment it doesnât seem important. She has the tendency to mumble under her breath creative insults specifically tailored for him, you wouldnât be surprised if she was complaining this time as well.
The cold air hits your bare limbs instantly as you cross the threshold; you shiver a little, before stopping short as soon as your heels touch the trim grass.
âWhy are we here? Iâm freezing and I need to find Nathan, he got here an hour ago andââ
âIâm so hungry!â Wanda jumps in, quickening her pace. âArenât you hungry? Iâm literally starvingâ oh! They are grilling sausages! Iâm craving hot dogs, do you want one too, honey? Câmonââ
âWhatâs gotten into you, Wan?â You chuckle confused, squinting at her as she keeps rambling about fucking sausages and ketchup. Itâs a habit of hers you know very well, talking a mile a minute about random stuff when sheâs nervous.Â
âWanda stop for fuckâs sake.â Yelena plants her feet on the ground, turning to face your friend.Â
âWhatâs going on?â You ask, glancing back and forth between the two. They get into an intense stare off, as if they are having a conversation you are not privy to. âDid something happen?â
Wanda shakes her head, a tight smile sent your way. âItâs nothing you have to worry about. Letâs go eat something.â She tries to take your hand but you retreat enough to let her stop, turning towards a fuming Yelena.
âWhatâs going on, Lena?â Your blonde friendâs jaw clenches, before she glances back at Wandaâs suddenly serious face.
âThereâs no need to make a scene right now, Lena.â Wanda hisses.
âThereâs no needââ She sputters outraged. âThis is fucking insane, what is your problem?â Wanda frowns, mouth open to say something that would undoubtedly set the blonde off, but you stop them by taking their wrists.
âHey!â You bark, now worked up as well. âThereâs no need to fight. Can you just explain what the hell is going on? I feel kind of left out right now.â Wanda tilts her head, silently begging Yelena with her eyes to stay silent.
âShe deserves to know.â Yelena grits out.
âNot right now! Itâs just going to destroy her.â
âSo what? You think itâs going to get better the longer we wait?â
Their sharp voices attract the attention of a few people chatting on the patio, and Kate, who has been observing the scene from the door, tries to ease up the tension by making up something about a lost lipstick. Some raise their eyebrows skeptically but luckily they go back to their drinks, allowing Kate to sprint towards you.Â
The air suddenly feels heavier with something unsaid, goosebumps unexpectedly raising on the back of your neck. You can feel itâs something serious, yet nothing comes to mind that could have fueled this kind of reaction from them.Â
âSomeone tell me whatâs going on. Right. Now.â Your voice shakes a little, despite your best effort to sound calm. âWhy are you fighting? Is Kate alright? Or did Nathan do something? Did you fight?â You urge Yelena, but she simply sighs, closing her eyes. No one answers for a while. The blonde presses her lips together, shaking her head as if she is trying to hold the truth in by force, and Wanda takes your hand again, regarding you with pleading eyes.
âItâs not about Kate, she is fine. Weâll explain later, okay? Letâs just enjoy theââ
âNo.â You interrupt, yanking your wrist free. âExplain now.â
Yelena scowls, jaw set. âYouâre just making it worse.â
Wandaâs auburn strands swing as her head sharply faces the Russian girl, her voice breaking with some repressed emotion. âWe know you hate his guts, Lena. But could you please think about her wellbeing for just one second? Weâre in the middle of a party, youâre trying to ruin her night!â
âOh! I am trying to ruin her night? You are such aââ
âI saw Nathan upstairs making out with a girl!â A voice suddenly blurts out from behind you. The music is so loud you can hear its muffled rhythm booming in your ribcage, yet those words couldnât be more crystal clear as they pierce through your brain.
Yelena and Wanda go abruptly still, all the agitation and disdain leaving their bodies as fast as they dragged you out here. When you turn around, you see Kateâs squirming form, her eyes wide as they watch you with something akin to desperation.
The ominous emptiness that youâve been carrying around for the last hour in your stomach suddenly doesnât feel so irrational.
âIâIâm so sorry.â Kate utters after a few moments of awkward silence, anxiously fiddling with her own fingers.
âUpstairs where?â You murmur, mouth suddenly running dry.Â
âIn one of the bedrooms. The one closest to the bathroom.â She spills mortified, not able to look her friend in the eye.Â
The party noise dulls to a distant hum. Suddenly the colorful lights, the sharp laughters, the smell of beer and fake fog, they all feel unbearably heavy as you try to process those cruel words.
It happens in a rush. You push past Kate without thinking, dodging drunk students left and right; some stare at you with confusion, others wonder what got Barbieâs panties in a twist to shove past people so roughly. You can't even hear your friends calling your name, their footsteps quick as they chase your rapid form. Even the music doesnât sound so thundering anymore.
You take a step forward, then another, each one heavier than the last. For a moment, the world⊠stops. Itâs just you and the lump dangerously building in your throat.Â
You catch Yelena screaming your name as you forcefully burst in the room on the left of the bathroom. Itâs dark, and the bed is intact. You donât even care about closing the door as you immediately move to the one on the right. The door hits the wall with a roaring bang, and in that moment you swear your heart skips a beat, before your pulse gets quicker and quicker until your ears start ringing. You donât know if you want to scream, to run or for the floor to swallow you alive. Maybe throwing up seems to be the best option, as you take the disgusting scene before you.
Nathan turns his head, still confused by the sudden ruckus. A girl is straddling him, the light is so dim you canât recognize her, yet you notice how her skirt is lifted, enough to expose her bottom half. His dark eyes widen in the split of a second, the girl falling with a surprised squeal to the side as he pushes her away. Nathanâs weak voice calls out your name, but you are already turning away.Â
The scene is quite pathetic, Yelena thinks, as Nathan clumsily tries to run after you, but he keeps stumbling as his lowered pants and underwear are in the way. He quickly gathers them both, and when he appears in the living room itâs not hard to put the pieces together, as he fails to zip up his pants while you try to reach the door. Â
âWaitâ fuck, wait! Itâs not what it looks like!â He cries out from behind.
âShut up, Nathan.â Yelena barks from the stairs, right behind a frowning Wanda and a teary Kate. The music is not so loud here at the entrance, and that allows the people lingering there to witness the entire scene.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil in your stomach, before facing him. You canât cry in front of him. You wonât.Â
âYouâre an asshole!â A shriek erupts from the top of the stairwell as your lips part; the girl stands there, mascara melted and skirt haphazardly lowered to cover her thighs.Â
âJesus Christ.â Wanda mumbles, massaging the top of her nose.Â
You swear she has a familiar face, yet you canât put your finger on it. Maybe she used to go to school with you, one of the many forgettable faces you came across in the hallways.
âYouâre a fucking liar, Nathan Barnes. You promised you would have told her about us. You promised me you were going to leave her.âÂ
The whole crowd around you gasps but it goes unnoticed by you three.
âWhat the fuck Nathan?â You whisper, regarding him with a disgusted grimace.
âIââ Nathan stares at you with his mouth open, suddenly ashamed of being put in the spotlight in front of so many strangers. âI didnâtâŠâ
âIâll tell you what he did, since heâs a fucking coward.â The girl announces, climbing a few steps down. âWeâve been dating since March, and heâs been promising me he would break up with you since then. Tonight, he told me he did it as soon as he got here. But apparently he didnât.â She throws him a bitter glare, before crossing her arms.
Since March.
Heâs been dating another girl for eight months. No. Heâs been cheating on you with another girl for eight months. Finally, everything starts making sense. He was busy all the time. He didnât text you back. You didnât see each other for weeks sometimes. His lips barely touched yours when you met, and sex was nearly inexistent. All the weekends you decided to come back here and he never once seemed to care about tagging along, not even texting you to make sure you had safely arrived, knowing your car is literally a jalopy.Â
Your hands curl into fists before you can even realize it. The image of her riding him keeps flashing behind your eyes, cold sweat damping your back. You canât find the strength to glance around, refusing to meet some strangerâs pitiful eyes, or worse⊠Their small smirk, their amused look. In the living room, people keep laughing, dancing, kissing. Standing here, in front of your ex boyfriend, in front of this person you though you knew, makes you feel ridiculous. Like the butt of a horrible joke.
Youâve been feeling guilty about doubting his words, when he had been betraying your trust all this time. Something shatters inside you at the realization that maybe everything that you did together, that you talked about, that you shared... It wasnât real at all. No, not maybe. It wasnât.Â
You suddenly feel exposed, not just physically, but the rawest part of your soul burns under all these curious eyes. You need to cover yourself, to disappear behind a blanket. Your eyes sting, yet you refuse to give these people and Nathan a bigger show by crying in the middle of the party.Â
Swallowing, you find the courage to ask one last thing, the urge to go at the bottom of this situation is too strong to let you flee without proper answers. âSo what about all the assignments and the group projects you were busy with? Were they real at least? Or did they all involve fucking another girl behind your girlfriendâs back?â Nathan doesnât answer, and that's enough for you. He still stares at you with those pleading brown eyes of his, and a wave of fury washes over you abruptly. This asshole still has the balls to look like heâs being unfairly accused.
Shaking your head, you sprint towards the door, ignoring your friendsâ pleas to wait up for them. They try to reach you, but thereâs too many people gathered there to watch the scene as if it was a fucking movie. By the time they get outside, you have disappeared. Itâs too dark to make out your form, and after screaming your name a few times, Yelena curses out loud, ready to give that dumbass a piece of her mind as Wanda and Kate urgently run after her.
Walking in the biting cold of October seems to clear your mind a little, even if the tears are unstoppable. You didnât even notice them until you slowed down. Sniffling, you lower your head, even if youâre completely alone. It still feels humiliating. You didnât do anything wrong, yet thoughts of how stupid youâve been cloud both your mind and your judgment. How could you have been so blind? All the signs were there, but you decided to ignore them.Â
That girl⊠She went to your same university. Thatâs why she felt so familiar. Sheâs pretty, you canât deny that. You wonder what pushed him to cheat on you. Was she funnier than you? Was she more caring? Better in bed? What were you lacking? Youâve always found yourself to be pretty average looking, you had your moments yes, but throughout your life you canât say guys have fought to go out with you. You flirted with some people, went on a couple of first dates, but then everything ended there. Maybe someone had a crush on you at some point in their life, but itâs not like you ever knew.Â
Of course that took a toll on your confidence, but then Nathan happened. You probably shouldnât have based your self-worth on the view he had of you.Â
You canât even go home and cry in your bed in peace. Kate was the only one with a purse, so you left all your belongings there, except for your phones. You really donât want to go back there, right now it feels like entering a cage full of lions. Nathan would probably be there, still fighting with his new girl; or maybe he has already made up with her, since she didnât seem even remotely concerned about the fact that he's a literal cheater. If you were in her place, you would consider being the one on the other side some day. This is not new for you. You witnessed how much your aunt suffered after taking back in her cheating husband. He begged on his knees, crying and swearing he wonât do that again; that it was just a moment of weakness. She was too busy with her job, and he needed her.Â
So he fell into another womanâs vagina, of course.
Your mom refused to speak to her for a while after her decision to not divorce him. Your dad eventually made her change idea: that asshole was prone to doing that again, and she couldnât risk her sister to be alone and vulnerable.Â
After four months, your aunt came back home early from a work trip to surprise him, but she was the one to be surprised: he was in their bed with one of her dear friends.
You wouldnât wish for something similar to happen to that girl, itâs not who you are. Even if she knew he was already dating someone else, and she willingly started a relationship with him. However, why would a single girl like her worry about your relationship if your boyfriendâ well, ex boyfriend, didn't care in the first place?Â
You sigh, mind traveling to your parents. They are out of town for your dadâs birthday, you canât text them at one in the morning to tell them you just found out about Nathan cheating on you. Itâs better to wait for them to come back home, you know they would leave immediately just to stay with you, and you canât allow it. They work so much and the only time of the year they treat themselves is for your dadâs birthday. You donât want to ruin their trip.
The back of your hand swipes once again the raw skin of your cheeks, tears keep clouding your eyes as you look down at the screen of your phone. Your finger hovers on that damn contact, but you feel ashamed just thinking about it.
How can you face Mr. Barnes? Calling him at this hour for help doesnât just mean worrying him, but also possibly interrupting his night with⊠Well, maybe someone. Heâs a single, attractive man with a big house all to himself, since Nathan was supposed to stay over after the party.Â
It also means telling him what Nathan did.Â
How will he react? Will he try to justify him? No, Mr. Barnes would never do that. Heâs too smart, too emotionally intelligent to justify a cheater. Even if the cheater in question is his own son.
Taking a deep breath, your mind goes back and forth between the two options. The thought of disturbing him from somethingâ or someoneâ important makes you want to crawl into a hole and never get out; you suddenly feel like a teenager bothering an older, popular boy. Your finger is rigid as it trembles in the air, until your reflexes make the decision for you, and it presses on the call icon.
You gasp, and with your heart in your mouth, you slowly bring your phone to your ear.
âSweetheart? Are you okay? Do you need something?â Your heartbeat suddenly calms down at his tranquil, deep voice invading your senses.Â
Right, thatâs another thing about Mr. Barnes. He calls you sweetheart.Â
Youâre still crying, and when you sniffle, he calls out your name, this time worried.
âAre you busy?â You gulp, biting your shaky bottom lip.
âNo. Never for you. What happened? Do you need me to come pick you up?â You nod, then frustratedly exhale when you realize he canât see you. A clinking sound comes from the other side, and you faintly smile as you recognize it to be keys. You havenât even answered and heâs already gathering his stuff to come get you.
âPlease. If youâre not busy.âÂ
âI told you Iâm not, donât worry.â You hear a door closing, before he speaks again. âAre you alright? Are you in a safe place?â
âIâm alright.â You tell him you are in front of Ms. Garciaâs house and from his silence you gather heâs surprised. Itâs almost thirty minutes away from Rachelâs house.Â
âWhy are you there, sweetheart? Is Nathan with you?â He urges, words half muffled by the car engine coming to life.
âNo, Iâm alone. He's at the party.â You sigh, sitting on a nearby bench. The cold metal against your half-naked thighs makes you shiver, but your shins are starting to hurt a little. âAnd Iâm alright, just tired.â
He doesnât need to hear what happened right now, the least you can do is explain face to face.
âDoesnât seem like it.â He mumbles. âYou sound like youâve been crying.â
You simply hum, waiting for him to end the call. He doesnât, respecting your silence as he prefers having you on call not saying anything rather than hanging up and possibly leaving you alone in a dangerous situation.Â
When the Barnesâ familiar black SUV parks right in front of you, your body unconsciously stands up. You hang up, watching as Mr. Barnes quickly gets out of the car. Your lips part to apologize, but before you can even think about what to say, heâs on you, tightly hugging you to his broad chest.
Your mouth takes a weird shape as you try to stop a mortifying whine from coming out. Your eyes feel wet once again, this time you cannot stop the tears as they gradually wet his red henley.Â
âIâm so sorry. I didnât know who to call.â You swallow the tight knot in your throat. Your resigned tone is a pang to his heart. âMy parents are out of town and Kate has my keys, but I didnât want to go back thereââ You hiccup, working yourself up.
âHey, hey,â He gently pries your head away with a hand on your cheek, enough to examine your devastated eyes. âIâve always told you to call me if you need something. Anything. So donât you dare apologize. Iâm so proud you remember it, sweetheart.â Your eyes lower at that, not knowing what to say.
âDo you want to tell me what happened?â Buckyâs other hand cradle your left cheek, his thumbs softly swiping away the tears still falling down. You swallow again, this time shaking your head lightly. Your jaw clenches at the sole reminder of what happened. Â
âAlright, alright. I wonât force you. Do you want to come home with me? Itâs freezing and youâreââ He stops mid sentence as his blue eyes take you in fully. You suddenly feel so dumb for not bringing a jacket; despite the cold, you knew inside Rachelâs house it was going to be a furnace with all those sweaty people dancing and drinking. And itâs not like you planned to make a dramatic escape in the middle of the night.Â
Despite your internal scolding, you notice the way Mr. Barnes immediately snaps out of whatever he was thinking, glancing back at your face. Youâre right under a lamppost, therefore itâs not hard to spot the redness taking over his cheeks. Youâre his sonâs girlfriend, of course he would feel uncomfortable having you so close and barely covered.
âI guess you didnât want to hide your pretty outfit.â Your eyes widen at his amused smile. âYouâre beautiful, by the way. A jacket wouldnât have ruined it.â With a wink, he places a hand on your back, guiding you to his car. Youâre still trying to process the compliment as he opens the car door on the passenger side, helping you inside.
He never explicitly called you beautiful. Sometimes, he would compliment your outfits, or call your makeup pretty. But it stopped there.
Once heâs inside and the engine is started, he turns on the heat. You shiver a little, your body gradually relaxing as you realize how cold you have been until now.Â
âBetter?â He glances at you, receiving a simple grateful nod as answer. âFuck, didn't even think about bringing you one of my jackets.â
Bucky maneuvres the vehicle on the roadway, unhurriedly driving back the way you came from. A sense of dread washes over you at the realization that to reach his home, you have to pass by your neighborhood, which means passing by Rachelâs house as well.
Bucky notices the way your body slightly slides down the seat, then your head turns to the window. As if youâre trying to hide, to not be noticed. He keeps an attentive eye on you until heâs driving by your house. He canât help but glance at the chaotic mess that is the huge mansion, but thereâs too many people and itâs too dark outside to recognize any of them. His son in particular.
âI saw Nathan with another girl.â You blurt out once Rachelâs house is out of sight. The car stutters a little, your stomach churning with a hint of anxiety, so you send a worried look to a shocked Mr. Barnes.Â
âSorry.â He mumbles, clearing his throat. âHow... ?â
You take a deep breath and your eyes land on the road in front of you, not strong enough to face him as you recount the events. âKate caught him in one of the bedrooms upstairs. When I opened the door, I saw a girl straddling him. They were kissing and... Yeah, they were doing other things.â You sigh, swallowing back another lump.Â
âApparently all those assignments and projects were just an excuse. Theyâve been together since March and Nathan swore to her he was going to break up with me eventually.â Every word feels like glass on your tongue.
From your peripheral vision, you catch how his body abruptly goes rigid, his knuckles turning white; an apology is ready on your lips. What are you apologizing for? For bothering him to come pick you up? For revealing such a horrible fact about his son? You don't even know, but his devastated expression is enough to make you feel guilty.
What he does next takes you completely off guard.
His hand travels to yours over the console, intertwining his fingers with yours.
Mr. Barnes is very good with his words, but at the moment, his hold is worth more than some carefully crafted speech. The tears urgently sting the back of your eyeballs at the great comfort that the simple gesture brings you, yet you try to repress them, already mortified about having to be the one to tell him the truth behind your relationship.
Confused, you watch the car turn, coming to a stop at the roadside. Bucky exhales heavily once the engine is turned off, plunging you both into complete darkness. His body moves until heâs facing you as best as he can.
Mr. Barnesâ softly calls out your name, squeezing your fingers once. âCan you look at me, sweetheart?â Your chin slowly lifts, and even if reluctantly, you still turn your head towards the steering wheel, enough to catch him in your peripheral vision. âThank you.âÂ
âI know youâre hurting so much right now, and my words are meaningless in front of this great betrayal, but please, listen to me, sweetheart.â He slightly leans forward, a fierceness that youâve never seen in his eyes sparkling amidst the blue. âDonât let this go to your head, don't you think you are not enough. Sometimes people just donât know what to do with something good when they have it. Iâm deeply disappointed in him. I didnât raise him to be like this and believe me, I will have words with him. Very strong ones.â You give him a faint smile, squeezing his hand back.
âDonât blame yourself, Mr. Barnes. Also, your words are never meaningless to me.â You whisper, frowning at his chest. âHe chose to do that on his own volition, he could have⊠Broken up with me,â your voice shakes. âBefore starting something with her, but he took the easy way out.â
Mr. Barnes stares at the dashboard with empty eyes, scoffing a humorless laugh. âI guess the apple never falls far from the tree.â You raise both eyebrows at his bitter voice, before he glances at you with a faint smile. âMy ex wife cheated on me, thatâs why we divorced.â
Your jaw falls.
âNathan was just thirteen but he had to witness how much his momâs... choices took a toll on me. It wasnât easy for him. I never dared to speak badly of her, never prevented him from seeing her. But he still chose to stay with me.â He sighs tiredly. âThey went back on speaking terms just a couple of years ago; Nathan felt like she betrayed him as well, refused to even text her on Christmas. Has he ever told you that?â You simply shake your head.
âHow could he...âÂ
âIâmâIâm so sorry, Mr. Barnes. I didnât know⊠Nathan never told me the reason of your divorce.â You whisper.
He squeezes your hand. âNo need to apologize, sweetheart. Itâs⊠Well, the scars are there but they donât hurt anymore.â You squeeze back, frowning at your knees.
âMy point is, Iâve been through that before, and for a long time I was miserable and frustrated. At her, for screwing up everything we had built. At myself, for not noticing the signs sooner. At fate in general, because I regretted ever knowing her. Nathan was the only good thing that came out of that marriage.â He pauses, before his eyes land back on you. âMy point is, some days youâre going to be mad; some days youâre going to stay in bed and cry your heart out. And some days⊠Youâre going to miss the happy moments spent with him. But it wonât last forever.â
You suddenly find the glove box very interesting, clearing your throat before admitting what you've been realizing throughout your walk. âIs it⊠Is it wrong if Iâm more upset about him betraying my trust than actually losing him?â
âWhat do you mean?â He slightly tilts his head, his way of letting you know he's here for you if you want to talk.
âHe was always busy, and deep inside of me I knew something was up. I guess⊠Unconsciously, Iâve been trying to distance myself emotionally to not get hurt. Iâm shaken about the fact that he cheated on me, and had a whole relationship going on with another girl behind my back. I had my suspicions confirmed. But... Iâm not actually sad about⊠Losing him.â You exhale frustrated, straightening up on the seat. âI donât know if Iâm making any sense.â
âYouâre angry because he made you doubt your self-worth.âÂ
âYes!â You exclaim, observing him as he nods.Â
âAnd youâre upset because he betrayed your trust.â
âExactly. Iâve been feeling guilty since the time I went to the library to check if he was actually there. I felt like shit for a whole month because here I was, doubting the amount of work his teachers gave him, while he was breaking his back on those damn books. But no! He was fucking someone else all along.â Your hand reflexively covers your mouth as you glance at a chuckling Mr. Barnes with wide eyes. âIâm sorry, didnât mean to be so crude.â He was still Mr. Barnes for fuckâs sake.
âDonât you dare apologize. I feel so guilty whenever I swear around you, thought you never once cursed in your life.â You share a meaningful laugh, before silence takes over the poorly lit vehicle again.Â
âThank you, Mr. Barnes.â You mumble, the corner of your mouth slightly lifted. He gives you one of his charming smiles back, squeezing your fingers one last time before he turns the engine on.
âYou know Iâm here for you, always.â
He claps his hands once, and all of a sudden it feels like that dark cloud of despair has finally dispersed. âC'mon now, let's go home so you can get comfortable and rest properly. You had a long night.â
âAre you sure youâre not busy? I donât want to crash your free nightââ
âAre you kidding? I love when you come over! And no, you didnât interrupt anything. Actually, I was watching a movie and eating some of the leftover candies, waiting for a text that you both got home safely.âÂ
When the car is parked in its usual spot, Mr. Barnes makes quick work of getting out, before sprinting to your side to open your door. Shyly, you thank him with a whisper.
Youâre still not used to all these acts of service.Â
âAlright, here we are.â He breathes out, shoulders lowering significantly as if the sole familiar smell of his home has the powerful ability to throw any tension out of the door. He leaves his sneakers in the shoe rack by the entrance, and you do the same, putting your heels in the empty space that he vacated deliberately for you when Nathan started to bring you over more frequently.
âAre you hungry? Do you want to take a shower?âÂ
You touch your temple, shutting your eyes momentarily. âHm, just a headache from all the stress. But I would really love a shower. I feel all sweaty from the party and Iâm pretty sure my clothes smell of smoke.âÂ
He doesnât bother to ask you if youâre sober, he knows you despise the taste of alcohol, but also any type of substance that could make you lose control. Mr. Barnes then leaves some Advil and a glass of water on the kitchen counter, before jogging upstairs to get you some clean clothes. You take your time in slowly finishing the whole glass, after walking and crying for so long and with a stomach full of fruity soft drinks, you desperately need to rehydrate your body. And maybe something to eat too.
Â
Once you are alone in the bathroom, the reflection in the mirror makes you flinch instantly. Your make up is completely ruined, your lipstick smudged at the corners and the eye shadow completely fucked up under your eyes. The thought of Mr. Barnes seeing this mess makes you shudder, but you decide to ignore the embarrassment for now. Once youâre naked and ready to get inside the shower, a sealed bottle of micellar water and a sealed package of cotton pads lingering on the edge of the countertop catch your sight. With a relieved sigh, you quickly remove your ruined make up, making a mental note to thank Mr. Barnes for his thoughtfulness.
The warm water touching your skin and the pleasant floral smell of the products tidily lined up on the shower caddy allow your neck and shoulders to unleash quite a lot of tension. Once youâre completely dry, you wear the black shirt he left on the small stool by the bathtub and a pair of boxers that you adjust to your likings. You make sure to be presentable enough before going downstairs, but something catches your eyes again. Astonished, your eyes travel to some unopened products that you are very familiar with. You take the first one to examine it: a moisturizer for your type of skin. Next, a gentle cleanser. Then, a neutral-smelling deodorant; and lastly, a purple toothbrush still in its intact packaging.
Were these things for you? Did he buy them on purpose, even if it had been almost a year since the last time you stayed over?Â
When you silently enter the kitchen, the sight of Mr. Barnesâ broad back leaves you standing still for a few seconds. You lower your gaze at the warmth that spreads in your chest at how domestic this is. Itâs not the first time he cooks for you, yet youâve never been here at this time of the night, clad in his clothes.
Turning around, he places a plate on the table, before his eyes find you. He smiles, lips parting as if he wants to say something, but stops abruptly when his blue eyes fall on your naked legs. Clearing his throat, the man abruptly turns back around to swipe the counter.
âAre you feeling better?â
âYeah, thank you for the clothes. And the sandwich.â You add, sitting at the table. Itâs your favorite, you acknowledge with a soft smile.
âThey fit you well. The clothes, I mean.â He mumbles, then whips his head slightly, smirking. âStill, I miss the Barbie outfit.â You giggle, not really knowing if he was simply joking, or if he did really mean it.
âOh, I also wanted to thank you for all those hygiene products. When did you buy them?â You quip, devouring half of the bread as if you havenât eaten in ages.Â
âIâve been stocking them up since you started spending the night here, just in case you forgot to bring something.â He shrugs, sending you another one of his charming smiles. It comes so easy to him. He knew you were spending the night and he wished for you to be comfortable and safe in his home. Simple as that.
Whenever you went over to Nathanâs, you had to pack an overnight bag with all your things. You never thought about leaving something behind, because it was so sporadic for you to spend the night there, and he was also living with other three people, so you didnât want to intrude. Yet, now that youâre realizing how much Mr. Barnes has been going out of his way to take care of you, you canât help but think about how many things Nathan took for granted. Your own boyfriend.
When you finally move on the sofa, your body instantly turns slack as it touches the soft cushions. Your phone on the coffee table lits up once; from your slumped position you can read half of Wandaâs message.
You texted the group chat to let them know youâre safe with a friend. Yelena will understand immediately, you are sure. You catch a really sorry, but you donât have the energy to deal with the situation. They know youâre alright and sheltered from the cold; tomorrow, youâll reassure them that you donât hold a grudge against them for fighting instead of telling you immediately what was going on. You donât know what youâd have done in a similar situation, but right now youâre too drained to explain yourself.Â
Your eyes move back on the plasma screen, a mediocre horror movie playing on cable. It's hard to ignore the way Mr. Barnes keeps glancing your way, for a second you're sure you're imagining things, half delirious from exhaustion. When you decide to boldly turn, he doesn't even try to hide it.
You don't know who leaned in first, but one moment your noses are touching, the next he's kissing you like he's been craving it for a very long time. It's thrilling, the way his lips move against yours. One of his hands cups the back of your head, encouraging you to come closer until your fingers tangle in his henley.
It shouldn't feel this good. It shouldn't feel this exciting. It shouldn't...
It shouldn't happen.
âWaitââ You abruptly interrupt the kiss, panting as you horrifically stare at the carpet. âWâWhat⊠What are we doing?â
âShit.â Bucky mumbles, his chest heaving as he tries to regain a crumb of control on his raging heartbeat. âIâIâm so sorry, sweetheart.â
âOh my God, Iâm a terrible person!â You shriek, leaning forward on your elbows as you hide your face in your hand, the familiar sting of tears teasing the corners of your eyes.
âHey, c'mon now sweetheart.â A warm palm lays on your trembling back, moving in smooth, round motions. âWhy would you be a terrible person? You did nothing wrong.â
âI just kissed my ex-boyfriendâs dad!â
âIf anything, I kissed you.â
âWe both leaned in!â
âOkay, let's just take a deep breathââ
âIt feels like Iâm doing something badââ A firm call of your name is enough to stop your rambling. Bucky's hand travels to the back of your neck, gently turning you until you are forced to face him.
âYou know you donât owe him anything, right?â He states solemnly.
âWhy are you so calm? Youâre his dad! I shouldnât feelââ You stop abruptly. The way his eyes widen with hope makes you want to cry. Is it really happening? Has he been feeling this way too all this time?
âFeel what?â Bucky urges, taking your hand in his.
âIâŠâÂ
âFeel what, sweetheart?â Shame keeps your throat closed, you are physically unable to utter any sound. So he takes the matter into his own hands, cradling your cheeks with his rough palms.
âIâve wanted to kiss you since the day you came here running to tell me youâve got an A on your paper about the evolution of language in online communities.â You gasp softly, shocked at how much he remembers about you.
âYou looked at me with stars in your eyes, I felt so lucky to be the one to witness your happiness first hand. It was also the first time you hugged me. I just felt⊠Complete. I tried to ignore it, believe me sweetheart. I felt dirty whenever my eyes fell on the curve of your waist, whenever I imagined your lips on mine. You were Nathan's girlfriend, how could I ever forgive myself for being jealous of my own son for getting to have you like this? For being able to call you his?â
âI promised myself I would have distanced myself a little. My friends tried everything. Blind dates with their colleagues; friends of a friend; even relatives⊠But no one ever compared to your sparkly eyes and passionate speeches.âÂ
âNathan had his chance and he failed to take care of you. To love you like you deserve. He was so cruel, baby. And I canât allow myself to stand by and watch you suffer, when Iâm right here, begging you to let me show you how much I care for you. Let me be the real man you deserve by your side. Someone who can keep up with your liveliness, who can also give, not only take and take and take. Someone who knows what you need by just looking into your eyes.â
âAnd what do I need now, James?â His breath hitches, not expecting his first name to sound so right on your tongue. Bucky, James, Jamie⊠He didnât care. He just needed you to demolish that already fractured wall of propriety that has kept you apart all along.Â
âMy lips on yours.â His blue eyes shine with the clear evidence of his attraction to you, and thatâs enough to give you that confidence boost youâve been looking for a while. Your fingers graze his jaw for a fleeting moment, before you bring him closer by his cheek, pulling him until your lips touch his.Â
Your other hand tangles in his hair, and the guttural sound he makes in your mouth when you pull a little has your thighs squeezing together. His tongue roams freely, slowly, deeply, until oxygen leaves you entirely. You kiss for quite a while, your lips fitting together like the final two lost pieces of a puzzle. His hands palm the curve of your waist, until he finds the courage to guide you on his laps. A moan is muffled against your mouth when your covered crotches come into contact, his hard-on the proof that youâre not the only one excited for whatâs to come. One palm sneakily trails up your torso, until it finds the side of your boob. A gentle squeeze elicits a gasp out of you, so you take the chance to grind down against his crotch, and he gasps back.
When you separate, wheezing and warm, his pupils are blown and his breathing harsher.Â
Your fingers finally allow themselves to do what they've secretly wished for a while; softly, they trace his features: from the gentle creases on his forehead, to his dark brows; then the sharp profile of his nose, his blushing cheekbones, the trim stubble on his jawline. His lips part just a fraction when your thumb caresses his bottom lip, trying to exhale as quietly as he can, frightened to interrupt this sublime moment.Â
âYouâre stunning, James.â You utter softly, faintly smiling. Bucky sighs, closing his eyes as your fingers tenderly move on to his neck. Shuddering, the older man wraps one muscular arm around your back, bringing you closer until he can comfortably lean in to return the favor, pressing wet kisses on your neck. You let him, sighing every time his lips brush your skin.
âYouâre driving me crazy.â He growls, a grin blooming on your mouth at his poorly concealed desperation. The hand firmly resting on your chest travels down your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind; then over your half-bare thighs, until it lands on your covered ass. Your gasp gets swallowed by his mouth when he harshly squeezes the flesh, helping your hips in their circular movements. His groan makes your core tingle and suddenly you take notice of how damp the boxers youâre wearing are. When was the last time you let someone touch you like this?
This time this kiss is harder, more animalistic than the ones you previously shared, a testament of your growing arousal.Â
âBaby,â he breathes out, cradling your cheek to assure youâre making eye contact. âWe donât have to do anything you donât want to, you know that right?â
âHm?â Your actions are a little slow after the way his hands have gently played with your curves. The ghost of his palms on your chest and thighs tingles on your skin; your brain feels fuzzy, and you slightly tilt your head when he starts talking again.
âWe can do whatever you want. Do you want to go back to watching the movie? Sure. Do you want to sleep? Iâll make the bed in the guest room right away.âÂ
âWhat if I want you to fuck me?â The words feel like cotton candy on your tongue, yet you donât miss the way his eyes widen in anticipation.
âAre you sure?â His voice shakes a little, as his hands when the squeeze your hips.Â
âPlease.âÂ
A squeal echoes in the living room as Bucky lifts you without much of a fuss. You keep your legs tightly wrapped around his waist as your arms circle his neck. He groans once as you canât stop yourself from leaving small pecks on the tan skin under his jaw. Itâs the first time you see his bedroom, yet it doesnât feel as weird as it should.
Bucky places you down on the large bed against the wall. The big walk-in closet and his en-suite bathroom get completely ignored as Buckyâs six feet form covers yours without actually resting his full weight on you. Your lips meet again and this time his palm travels under his shirt, finding your bare chest.Â
âJames!â You wheeze, hips twitching up as his fingers graze your already erect nipple. Youâre now fully lying on your back with his hard body straddling you, but a slightly push on his chest is enough for him to immediately lift his torso up.
âAre you okaââ
âI feel so good. I justâ I need to make something clear.â This time it's you who cradles his jaw. âI like you, James. I think I have for a while, actually. It wasnât just pure admiration. And this,â your finger wriggles between you two, pointing at your chests. âItâs not a one-night stand for me. I don't want you to think youâre... Some sort of revenge; much less a rebound.â
âThis is my dream come true.â He mumbles against your lips, caressing the back of your head in awe.Â
âIâm gonna make this right, okay sweetheart?â Bucky kisses your forehead, then your cheeks. âIâm gonna take care of you.â Next itâs your neck. âPlay with your sweet pussy until you are nice and ready for me.â Your eyes roll back as his hot breath tickles the sensitive skin behind your ear. The fingers trailing up your thigh finally reach the inner part, his thumb stroking the damp fabric of his dark boxers right where you need him.
âThen Iâm gonna fill you up,â your hips buckle up once and he chuckles elated. âYou like that, angel? Like the idea of me stuffing you full with my cum?âÂ
âPlease.â You moan, squeezing his forearm.Â
Buckyâs shaky exhale gives his excitement away, despite his firm words. âGonna take you on a date tomorrow, alright?â You nod, swallowing as his other palm leaves shivers on your bare stomach, lifting the shirt up up to your stomach. âGive you everything you deserve and more.â
His smirk widens when you whine as he lifts himself enough to remove your top. A low groan falls down his lips when your naked chest is finally exposed. His large hands cup your tits without much thought, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples, eliciting another whine from you. You finally look up at his face, biting your bottom lip when you notice the way his eyes have gone darker like the ocean abyss, as they stare at the way your boobs fit perfectly inside his palms.
âSuch gorgeous tits, sweetheart.â Your cheeks instantly heat up at the praise; overwhelmed by the sudden attention on your naked torso, you try to turn away, but Bucky is faster. Cradling your cheeks, he lifts your head until you are forced to stare right at him.
âNone of that. Need you to lay back and watch me as I worship you, sweetheart.âÂ
The boxers are suddenly discarded on the floor. Itâs electrifying, being so open for Bucky to admire. Youâre quivering under his devoted gaze and faint smile, your breath hitching each time his fingers stroke a patch of tender skin as he takes his time in appreciating every single curve, every single aspect that you consider a flaw; to him, theyâre new features to cherish. A way to learn you in the most intimate of ways.
You donât even notice the way your eyelids have fluttered shut. The rustling sound of fabric is what drives you to open them in time to catch Bucky throwing his shirt somewhere on the ground.
He truly is stunning, with his strong physique and his muscles still defined, even with the small layer of fat covering most of it.Â
With a small smile, he guides your legs up until your feet are firmly planted on the mattress and your knees bent.
âIâve got you, sweetheart.â He makes a show of gasping as he lays between your thighs, his nose almost touching your bare core. âLook at this. Already so wet for me, pretty girl?â To be fair, you think this is the most aroused youâve been in your whole life.
Itâs mortifying how quickly your first orgasm approaches you, it only took him a few languid circling movements on your clit and youâre already shaking against the beige bedsheets.Â
Breathy moans and whimpers fall from your parted lips as he teases you. âYouâre so sensitive, baby.â He marvels, licking his lips. âBut not yet.â His fingers leave your throbbing nub at once, your pathetic whine only fueling his teasing.
âI know, sweetheart.â Bucky hums, thick finger gently tracing up and down the seam of your entrance. âGonna make it better right now, donât worry.â His digit is inside you; your limbs go rigid, before his other hand comes up, stroking your clit to make you relax. You sigh at the sensation and Bucky feels your hole gradually making room for another finger. âThere we go. Feels good, right?â
Your eyes squeeze shut as you can only nod, your own hand shooting down to grasp one of his shoulders as the tip of his tongue replaces the fingers taunting your clit. The first swipe makes you immediately stiffen.Â
âBucky!â Your wanton moan resounds through the dimly lit room, making his cock twitch with interest.
âJesus Christ.â The vibrations elicited from his growl are pleasant against your tender core. âHas anyone ever tasted you, baby?â
âNâNo.â You cry out as his fingers push against your sweet spot.Â
âFucking fools.â He snarls. âIâll take care of you from now on, sweet girl.â He rasps out, eager to go back to your sweet slick.
âBâBucky!â You sniffle, clenching the muscle of your stomach to keep your orgasm at bay.Â
âOh I know, I know baby. Youâre gripping me so tight, canât wait to have you wrapped around my cock.â Your hips twitch up again, but his unoccupied arm blankets your belly to keep you nice and still as he enjoys his meal. The way his stubble leaves crude marks against your skin makes your back arch as high as his heavy arm allows.
âYou know, sweetheart felt like the safest option,â he pants, coming up for air with his lips glistening with your arousal. âNow I can finally call you whatever I want.âÂ
âBaby, darling, dollâ oh.â You hoped he didnât notice the way you clenched at the last pet-name, but of course the smug bastard did.Â
âYou like when I call you doll?â You toss your head back as his thumb goes back to play with your sensitive nub. You are only able to stutter out an embarrassed yes, but it is enough to make Bucky smirk.
âYeah, doll?â He relishes in the way you clench around his knuckles, knowing youâre at your limit now.Â
âGive it to me, doll. Câmon, I can feel you need to.â He growls against your thigh. âIâve been patient for too long.âÂ
Your head falls back against his pillow as your eyes fall shut, your first orgasm of the night hitting you hard, leaving you whimpering and shaking under his hands. Your body tightens as wave after wave of pleasure seeps deep into your bones, your pussy repeatedly clenching around his damp fingers.Â
âGorgeous.â Your nails cling into his shoulder as you ride it out, humping his face under his soft grunts of encouragement. Bucky's hips have been jerking against the mattress for a while now, unable to stay stoic in front of a such a goddess unraveling before him. With a final teasing lick to your clit, his thick fingers finally pull away. Youâre still breathless when he lifts himself up, enough to pull you into another feral kiss. Tasting yourself on someone's tongue is definitely new, but not unpleasant.
âWish I could stay between your thighs all night.â He mumbles against your lips. Kissing Bucky⊠Itâs just so lovely. Especially right now, when you're so close to each other the hair on his chest tickles your nipples. You gasp at the light stimulation, completely missing the way one of his hands abandons you to discard his boxers.Â
When he gets into an upright position, you finally catch a glimpse of it. Even his cock is beautiful, for fuckâs sake. You gulp once at the sight of how majestic he looks, naked and kneeling for you, before your eyes meet his amused ones. His arms wrap around your thighs without a word, dragging you closer to him until his cock brushes against your core. His tongue is inside your mouth before you can even let a full gasp out. Whining, your fingers slip into his hair as he teases the seam of your entrance with his tip.Â
âSo eager.â He chuckles at your twitching hips, before extending his arm towards the night stand.
âNo!â Your fingers immediately wrap hard around his bicep, causing Bucky to freeze.
âIâm clean, got tested last month, and Iâm on the pill.â You wheeze out, half-nervous he would refuse your implicit proposal.Â
Bucky scrutinizes you with surprise, leaving a peck on your lips. âIâm clean too. Are you sure, sweetheart?â He frowns.
âIâve never let anyone else inside without.â You swallow, taking his hand in yours to bring it on your chest. âWant you to be the first.â You whisper.Â
âFucking hell.â He groans, letting his forehead fall on your shoulder. Itâs your turn to smirk now, until you feel the head of his cock back against your hole.
âOh.â You squeak when he slides in halfway without much resistance on your part; the sight of your glassy eyes rolling back has him moaning.
âFeeling alright, doll?â
âFuckâ yes!â You gasp, stiffening at the burning stretch. âMore, please!â
After what seems forever, Bucky bottoms out, jaw clenched and cock twitching at the mere thought of finally being inside his girl. Trying to calm the both of you down, he stills, letting his lips find yours. It only worsens the situation, as he feels your body gradually grow pliant under him. The lewd wet sounds of your mouth moving against each other only spur him on as his hips involuntarily jerk forward.
âJames.âÂ
âYes, I know sweetheart.â He coos at your whines. âGonna make the ache go away, hm?â
Dragging his hips back slightly, he carefully watches your expression, and when he finds no sign of discomfort, he lets himself slip right back in, harder.Â
âOh, sweet girl.â He grins as you cling to his forearms. âThat feels good, right?â Leaning in to plant his lips right over your eyebrow, he lets his hips slowly move back, biting back a loud groan at the sweet stimulation of your clenching walls. âNeed to see you fall apart on my cock.â He grunts instead.
âPlease! Please, Bucky.â You cry out, eyes rolling back again as the tip nudges against your sweet spot. Your moans grow higher and louder as he rocks faster, your slack body trapped under him sliding up and down the mattress with each brutal thrust.Â
Bucky loses himself a little in the moment as he buries his nose against the damp skin of her neck, licking and kissing away the salty tang of your sweat, finally fucking you properly. The clap of your skins shamelessly fills the bedroom, mixing with your labored breaths and desperate moans.Â
âShit, doll.â He growls. âNeed this all the time, need to hear your cute squeals as I carve a place for my cock inside your cute little pussy.â You find out you love this position with Bucky. You feel so close to him, and it allows you to touch each other however you want. The way he kisses you, how his cock fits so perfectly inside you, it stirs a warm feeling inside your chest.Â
âSuch a good girl for me, taking all of me so well.â He gushes, smiling at your connected lower half. Â
âCome with me?â You whimper, clinging to his shoulders as the knot in your lower belly rapidly gets closer to snapping.
âWant to give you another one.â He pants, slowing down. âIâm not so young anymore, sweet thing.â The back of his hand brushes your cheek with such gentleness you almost forget the hard length pounding your hole, before resuming his punishing pace under your delirious moans.Â
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, your body tensing as your back arches.
âThatâs it!â He grunts, keeping his eyes firmly on your face. Your legs dangerously tremble as they tighten around his waist. âSo tight, so good for me. My good girl.â Bucky grits out, muscles rigid as he hardly fends off the ravaging orgasm threatening to make him fall apart; yet he keeps going, wanting to prolong your orgasm as long as he can. When he hears a whimper bordering on painful, and your palms shoot down to push at his chest, his hips gradually come to a stop.
âHoly fuck.â
Your legs are pleasantly aching by the time you are coming down from your earth-shattering climax. Bucky is still trying to regain his composure as he nuzzles against your collarbone, jaw clenched and bones shaking with the primal need to paint your insides.
He's at his limits. He always takes such good care of you, your beautiful, kind Mr. Barnes.Â
And now itâs your turn.
âGet up.â You mutter, pushing at his pecs. Panic briefly crosses his features as he clumsily lifts up. You donât let him go too far, as you gently push him until he's laying on his back. When you land directly on his crotch, cock still snuggled inside you, his eyes widen in astonishment.Â
Everything feels more sensitive like this.
You don't care about your aching joints, immediately opting for a fast pace. You bounce up and down, biting your bottom lip as you stare at his half-shut eyes. You couldn't be more grateful for Nathan to have his mom's eyes. Your combined labored breathes make you squeeze his length, loving the way you sound together. Bucky couldn't agree more, but he's too busy pawing your hips with one hand, and groping your boob with the other, to rationally think about something clever that would surely turn this debauched angel on his laps into the bashful girl that he's grown to adore.
You're not sure how long has it been, but what makes you still it's not the sudden uncomfortable stiffness in your knees, but rather a door slamming shut.
You stop immediately, your widening eyes meeting Bucky's surprised ones. His shock, though, has a very short life, as his hands land on both of your hips with a resounding smack, encouraging you to go on.
âBucky!â You reprimand him, gasping at the abrupt stimulation against your sweet spot. The older man under you slowly lifts his torso up, encircling your waist as he guides you down, until his forehead rests against yours.
âWe have already established that we like each other and that this,â he points between you just like you did before. âis not a one time thing.â You nod, panting as you are alarmingly aware of all the noises coming from downstairs. His bare feet thumping against the tiles, the cabinet closing, the small sigh of relief after drinking some water.
âDon't you want to give him a taste of his own medicine?â You can't believe the glint of mischief that sparkles in his azure eyes.
âHe's your son!â You whisper-shout, partial to his proposal but still too timid to go along with it.
âAnd you're my girl.â He retorts with the same heat, his pupils on fire. âThe same girl he cheated on for eight months.â
Something shatters inside your chest. You don't know if it's the reality finally catching up to you, the humiliation shaping into something fiercer, hotter. Or maybe it's the way this absolutely lovely man just defined you his girl so easily. No shame, no reservations.
Your palms press against his shoulders, urging him to lay back down. The slow smirk forming on his lips matches your indulgent smile.
âFuck.â Your hips resume their pace with a newfound strength.
âYou're doing so well, sweet thing. Look at you, taking all my cock in your tight little pussy. My pretty girl, aren't you?â His dirty words only spur you on, leading his hands back where they were before. In the meantime, the stairs creaks under careful yet not-so silent steps, as Nathan warily makes his way up.
âYes! OâOh Mr. Barnes, 's so big.â You cry out, completely forgetting about your ex probably standing outside the door. You don't miss the way Bucky's breath hitches at the same title you used to softly utter with so much admiration and respect, now sounding so beautifully obscene as you cry for his cock. Faintly smiling, you squeeze the hand on your chest, Bucky immediately looking up from your core engulfing his length.
âYeah? And whose pussy is this, hm?â His fingers settle on your clit with determination, careful to put the right pressure, and you respond immediately, riding him faster as your hole clenches like a vice around him.Â
âYours! Fuck, yours!â
"Good girl.â He groans, using every bit of self-restraint to not succumb to the heavenly feeling of your pussy desperately clenching around his leaking cock.
âYes, yes, yes! Fuck pâplease Mr. Barnes!â
âThat's it. Come for me, my beautiful girl.â Your third climax of the night is the most intense. You shatter with a loud shriek, collapsing against Bucky's chest as he promptly catches you. The urgent noise of footsteps climbing down the stairs and the finality with which the entrance door snaps shut are completely disregarded as you fall apart on Bucky's twitching cock. You cling to his large frame, shaking and whimpering as his hips ruthlessly chase his own pleasure.
âCan't stop, you feel so fucking good, angel.â The crack in his voice tells you he's close, his hands keeping you nice and still as you let him use you. With one last effort, your chin lifts enough for you to whisper right into his ear.
âCome inside me, Mr. Barnes.â
It's like a switch goes off in his brain. His grip around your thighs tighten, his filthy groans get louder and needier. His hips thrust up once, twice, and then he pushes you down on him, ropes after ropes of his cum reaching the deepest part of you. Your content hum at the surreal sensation of being filled up soothes him a little, his body finally falling back against the mattress.
âShit,â Bucky harshly exhales, staring dumbfound at the ceiling. âI've never come this hard in my life, sweet girl. Look at you, took it all inside and didn't waste a single drop.â You squirm lightly under his soft palms tracing a path up and down your back, both of you silently agreeing to take your time in pacifying your shaky limbs before making any abrupt movement.
âC'mere and give me a kiss, doll. You've been so good for me.â He coaxes you out of your hiding place against his neck with a finger under your chin. You lazily follow, meeting his lips in a passionate, much more languid kiss.
Summary: Bucky wants a taste when you bake something for him.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight possessive behavior, feels, body positivity, bit of fluff, confident Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Happy Moanday, lovelies. Set in the same realm as Just Right. â€ïž Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Chubby!Bucky who stands in front of the full-length mirror, shirtless and his sweatpants hung low. He filled out in all the right ways with his soft belly, thick thighs, and a broad chest.
Chubby!Bucky who smiles a real smile at his reflection because he likes what he sees. He feels no shame in the extra pounds or how his body looks.
Chubby!Bucky who isnât just okay with how he looks but loves it. Heâs comfortable and confident in his skin, feeling perfect just the way he is.
Chubby!Bucky who briefly remembers how he was once a weapon, his body an instrument of destruction. Now heâs a man who gets to choose what he eats, what he wears, and who he loves.
Chubby!Bucky who runs a hand along his belly, feeling warmth and softness instead of the abs he once had. He lets his stomach hang proudly instead of sucking it in when youâre close by, knowing you like how it looks and feels.
Chubby!Bucky who teases you from time to time and asks, âYou like what you see, sweetheart?â He does that when heâs wearing clothes or naked.
Chubby!Bucky who knows his look turns you on no matter what from the way your breath catches, your pupils dilate, how your fingers itch to reach for him. It makes him feel good.
Chubby!Bucky who doesnât flinch or tense up when you touch him because he has nothing to fear. He leans into it every time, craving it, craving you.
Chubby!Bucky who inhales, drawn to the kitchen due to the smell of cinnamon and butter. He knows youâre whipping up something delicious, though it isnât half as delicious as you.
Chubby!Bucky who loses his breath when he sees you in nothing but an apron and a top that barely covers your ass. He canât say youâre the only tease in the place since he purposely didnât put a shirt on.
Chubby!Bucky who leans against the counter and crosses his arms, watching as you carefully roll out the dough. He smirks when you pretend not to notice him looking, but he doesnât have to touch your face to know itâs hot under his stare.
Chubby!Bucky who stands taller when you steal a glance at him and sees you bite your lip. He looks good, and you both know it.
Chubby!Bucky who smiles to himself as you put the dough into the waiting pan. Youâre making one his favorites, and it means the world that youâre doing that for him.
Chubby!Bucky who has to bite back a groan when you purposely reach for one more thing on a high shelf (that you donât need), your top lifting and giving him more of a show. As much as he loves his body now, he loves yours even more.
Chubby!Bucky who strides across the room and stops behind you, pressing his warm and massive frame against you while he kisses your neck. âYou baking something for me, sweetheart? Or are you just teasing me?â he asks, nuzzling your skin as you tilt your head, your breath hitching.
Chubby!Bucky who nips over your pulse when you breathe, âBoth.â Of course, youâre baking for him and teasing him.
Chubby!Bucky who slides a hand under your shirt and apron to tease your breasts, smirking when you gasp. Call him greedy, but he canât keep his hands off you.
Chubby!Bucky who groans when his other hand brushes your wet panties, making you whimper. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice rough with want when he rasps, âI think youâve teased me enough. I want a taste now.â
Chubby!Bucky who closes his eyes when you press back against him and beg, âPlease.â Heâs hard, aching to be inside you, but he wants to take care of you first.
Chubby!Bucky who lifts you onto the counter with ease, flour coating your thighs, and kisses you slow and deep. Itâs like heâs savoring the first taste of his favorite dessert.
Chubby!Bucky who deepens the kiss but doesnât rush. You helped teach him the pleasure of indulgence, taking his time, of being worshipped and worshipping in return.
Chubby!Bucky who pulls away and murmurs, âI just need one taste.â The unspoken words âto startâ hang in the air between you.
Chubby!Bucky who kisses your fingers, your inner wrists, removing the apron and shirt so he can kiss your breasts stomach. âYou feed me, love me, ruin me,â he whispers.
Chubby!Bucky who sinks to his knees and gazes up at you like youâre the most precious thing in the world. âLet me have you,â he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh.
Chubby!Bucky who pushes your panties aside before you part your legs more, silently offering for him to eat until he has his fill. Youâll never keep him from his dessert.
Chubby!Bucky who makes you grip his hair, your cries filling the space as he licks and plunges his tongue deep, savoring your wetness the way he savored your kisses. Youâre his favorite flavor.
Chubby!Bucky who is determined to make you come on his tongue before the timer goes off, though heâs certain youâve forgotten all about pre-heating the oven. The inferno between you two is much hotter and important.
Chubby!Bucky who gets his wish when you cry out his name, your release flooding his mouth. He moans greedily, taking every drop he can because itâll never be enough.
Chubby!Bucky who kisses your mouth when heâs done, his belly pressed against yours as he pulls you close. You may not enjoy the way you taste, but he thinks itâs a delicacy.
Chubby!Bucky who sighs when you take him out of his pants, his cock hard, heavy, and ready. He brings you back to the edge of the counter so he can sink inside you, inch by inch.
Chubby!Bucky who moans with you as he bottoms out, and freezes when the timer beeps. âI was hoping to get you off again before that went off,â he teases, making you laugh, too, and tighten around him.
Chubby!Bucky who presses his forehead against yours when you say, âIgnore it, and get us both off. Please.â Thatâs all he wants to do.
Chubby!Bucky who fucks you gently, your nails digging into his shoulders as he makes you cry out again. The smell of sex somehow works well with the kitchen aroma.
Chubby!Bucky who feels tingles at the base of his spine when your hands roam his body, wherever you can reach. His body is your temple, like yours is his.
Chubby!Bucky who almost loses it when you moan, âI love you, Bucky.â Your love makes him believe he can accomplish anything.
Chubby!Bucky who snaps his hips a little harder, moving in you a little deeper, when he moans, âI love you, too.â Heâll always love you.
Chubby!Bucky who moans into your mouth when you tip over the edge, filling you up after a few more thrusts. It feels like heaven every time.
Chubby!Bucky who carries you to the bathroom to clean you up, murmuring âYouâre always so good for meâŠâ in a low voice. His heart skips a beat when you exhale, âYouâre perfect to and for me.â
Chubby!Bucky who feels his chest get tight and says above a whisper, âThank you.â Heâs thanking you for loving and accepting him as he is.
Chubby!Bucky who later eats a pastry off your body once you finally get to bake it, licking crumbs from your chest and groaning as he works his way back down. You really are the best thing he has ever tasted.
Chubby!Bucky who smirks and raises an eyebrow when you tell him, âI thought you just wanted one taste.â Did you really think heâd stop at one?
Chubby!Bucky who smiles when he looks up at you, his lips shining as he moves back up your body. âYou deserve a taste of something sweet, too,â he says, feeding you a bite of the pastry.
Chubby!Bucky who kisses your forehead later as the day comes to an end, cherishing the fact that he gets to have you in his arms and in his life. He feels in his bones that heâs worthy of the life he has now.
Chubby!Bucky who holds you closer, your hand caressing his belly in a tender gesture, and whispers, âYou make me feel like Iâm worth something.â His heart races when you smile and whisper, âYouâre worth everything.â
Chubby!Bucky who removes his dog tags and puts them around your neck. You hold your breath, your eyes filling with tears when he says, âSo are you, sweetheart. So are you.â
Chubby!Bucky who sighs when you kiss him, his thumb wiping away a tear that slips out. It isnât a proposal with a ring, but it is a promise that you belong to each other and always will.
Chubby!Bucky who falls asleep in your bed with a full belly, a full heart, and your body curled up against his. Heâs safe, loved, and happier than he ever couldâve imagined.
I know no one asked for this, but I couldn't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! â€ïž
So my brain came up with this idea: Bucky is the leader of a werewolf pack (just like twilight haha I'm so sorry) and he gets fond of that one girl where he instantly feels a connection cause the wolves fall in love only once in a lifetime and he knows it's you. So when you get attacked by vamps one night he steps in saving you and bringing you to their camp to take care of you. Then you Kinda feel love at first sight as well and stay by his side ?
I love this but this is going to be a first for me, writing this type of AU so bear with me. Some A/B/O themes to do with the werewolf theme but not exactly an a/b/o fic. Just making up my own damn rules for this AU, so look the other way if something doesnât make sense.Â
18+ cause smut but also lots of fluff, knotting, marking, protective Bucky with platonic protective Steve, Sam and Peter
-
He didnât mean to watch you so closely but he couldnât help it. Perhaps it was a part of his instincts to notice the finest details that surrounded him. Every day he saw you, there was something new that captivated him. The way the wind would tousle your hair. The way your nails were painted to match the shades of the fall. Whenever you bought your morning coffee, you bought a second one along with a muffin, handing it to the homeless man that stayed near by the coffee shop. Sometimes youâd spent a good few minutes talking to him before continuing with your day. Youâd hold the hand of the elderly woman who was slowly crossing the street, making sure she made it across safely before you went off to wherever you were going.Â
You saw beauty in everything. Everyone.
You were beautiful.
Pure.
Bucky shook his head, turning back to the bar, wiping down a few glasses, though still sneaking glances at the window as you walked by. Heâd first noticed you months ago, in the summer, blinking when he saw an unfamiliar but pretty face walking down the street, a bundle of sunflowers in your hand. His eyes lingered on you, smiling softly when you handed a little girl a flower before continuing down the street, disappearing around the corner. Bucky knew everyone around the area; after all it was his territory. The east belonged to his pack so he was curious about the sweet stranger heâd never seen before.Â
You didnât seem to pose a threat so he didnât dive into investigating you. The more often he saw you, the more heâd find to admire. It was late in the afternoon, meaning Bucky would only see you again closer to the end of his shift which would be around midnight. He felt his cheeks heat up when he realized he knew what your routine was.Â
Stop being creepy Bucky.Â
Hours went by, less than sober customers walking in and out, Sam, Steve and Peter were talking Buckyâs ear off about something he stopped paying attention to 20 minutes ago.Â
â...and thatâs how I caught Clint in the vents, you shouldâve seen his faceâÂ
âCaught in 4k, no capâ
âWhy would he be wearing a capâ
âIâm going to move you all to the graveyard shiftâ Bucky groaned, barely focused on their conversation, mostly because he lost track of whatever Peter was referencing, 15 references ago. He glanced at the clock, only a few more minutes left until he was off. It also meant you would be passing by his bar soon enough. Which is why he frowned when he didnât see you. For the past few months, Bucky noticed youâd always walk home, something he wasnât very fond of but itâs not like he could do anything about it. The area was generally safe but it wasnât perfect, especially at night.Â
Bucky shoved the uneasiness he felt to the back of his mind; you had a life outside of the moments he saw you. You could have taken a cab or gone home with a friend. Maybe you look a different route. Maybe you made plans. He thought of 101 reasons as to why he didnât see you to try convince himself he was worrying over nothing. Bucky grabbed his jacket, heading out into the cool night, the moon softly lighting the empty streets.Â
Something felt off.Â
The worry he felt when he didnât see you hadnât ceased and for some reason the feeling was growing.Â
Sheâs fine.
Sheâs made it home safe.Â
You donât even know her-
Bucky stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to a faint sound he heard near a pitch black alleyway. He took two steps towards it, only to hear silence filling the air.
Until he heard it again.Â
He knew he heard something, a pained whimper so quiet, he almost thought he imagined it. The hairs on his neck stood up, something not feeling right, bounding towards the source of the sound. His pupils dilated to scan the dark area, eyes growing wide when he saw the sight before him.Â
âQuiet!â John hissed, his teeth grazing your cheek. âSuch a pretty lookinâ princessâ he whispered, his fangs glistening under the moon light, his finger tracing along the column of your neck. âHold her stillâ He grumbled while his friend kept their hand firmly over your mouth, their other arm wrapped around your arms and waist.Â
âBeen watchinâ ya sweet heartâ Valentina purred, trailing a sharp nail down your cheek, a sinister smile on her face watching you struggle, âThese young ones are hungryâ She sat back on a crate, crossing her legs, while the blond grabbed a fist of your hair, craning it back to expose your neck. âGo on, make it quick before one of the mongrels find usâ She spat, venom in her voice, feeling a sense of uneasiness roaming the streets they were forbidden to set foot in.Â
âLadies firstâ John smirked while Sharon hummed, smacking your cheek when as you struggled, trying to break free. âThis will be a lot easier if youâd just fucking-
She stopped mid sentence, her eyes darting around her, the sudden scent of pinewoods and cedar evading her senses. AÂ snarl tore through the air, your eyes falling on a white wolf along with three others growling and stalking towards your attackers, the largest white one bounding towards you, pinning John underneath him. Sharon tried to grab you, her nails digging into your skin, only to be torn off by another wolf, dragging her by the ankle. You fell to the floor, gasping when the smallest wolf came to your aid, standing guard in front of you, warning for the others to back off. You couldnât place what it was but there was something distinct about each wolf, it was almost as if you could see their different personalities.Â
âFuck-â John tried to throw the large animal off him, heaving at the weight that sunk into his chest. Â
âYou donât belong hereâ The white wolf let out a deep growl, claws piercing into his chest, breaths heavy, fanning on his face, sharp teeth on full display. All you heard was a growl but John seemed to understand what it meant, frantically nodding his head. âLeave now, take the rest with youâ He understood the low rumble to be a final warning for them to leave if they wanted to stay alive.Â
âLets go!â Valentina had already jumped to the top of the building, not waiting for the rest, the group running off into the night, leaving you half bleeding and scratched on the ground. John gasped for air, scrambling off the floor as he managed to climb up a fire escape, striding across the rooftops to follow the rest.Â
Your heart stopped as the white wolf turned to face you, taking slow calculated steps, as if to show you he meant no harm. He was beautiful with piercing sapphire blue eyes and thick white fur. Your eyes grew wide, your breath catching in your throat as he began to shift, fur disappearing replaced with brunette hair, limbs now muscular arms and legs. There was no longer a wolf before you, a tall handsome stranger standing in its place. It was just you and him in the alleyway; the other three wolves who had protected you had trailed after your attackers to ensure they left the territory.Â
âAre you okay?âÂ
âWho-who are youâ You whispered, trembling in the corner as Bucky approached you, his teeth no longer sharp, eyes now a soft shade of blue. He carefully stepped towards you, kneeling on the ground to help you sit up, his touch gentle. âPlease donât hurt me-â
âI wonât hurt youâ He smiled softly, resting his hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your mind was still reeling over what you had just seen, your head feeling dizzy from the deep cuts that ran along your arm. The skirt of your dress had ripped, nicks covering your knees from where you fell.Â
âBut-you-â You stumbled over your words, your heart still rapidly beating out of your chest, âYou were just-âÂ
âFluffy and walking on four legs?â He gave you a playful smirk, his smile dropping when he noticed your eyelids grow heavy, your body exhausted. âYouâre really hurtâ
âMâokayâ You rasped but you knew you were far from it. The area where you were scratched began to burn and you didnât understand why. You let out a whimper of pain, clutching onto him as the pain worsened. Buckyâs heart broke, the need to protect you and take care of you overbearing all his other senses. He tucked you against his body, not thinking twice about his decision to bring you back with him.Â
âCome with me doll, weâll take care of youâ His voice was soft, soothing, like a warm blanket covering you. You gave him a faint nod, melting into his hold as he lifted you into his arms with ease. Something about him brought you a sense of calm you had never felt before.Â
It was the same feeling you felt when you stepped into your home after a long day. The feeling of slipping into a warm bath. The feeling of fresh sheets and a cool pillow. The first sip of hot chocolate on a cold day. Soul soothing.Â
You slipped in and out of consciousness, as he carried you through towards the forest that surrounded the area, his scent of pine and something distinctly him bringing you comfort. The soft crunch of twigs crunched beneath his footsteps as he walked down the trail towards a clearing.Â
Tall beautiful log cabins surrounded the camp, the area completely hidden from the outside world. Bucky managed to open the door to his cabin while still holding you close, setting you down carefully on the couch before frantically calling Wanda. By the time Wanda was knocking on his door, you were completely unconscious, bruises starting to form on your skin, your breathing slowed.Â
âShe was attackedâ Bucky stayed by your side while Wanda looked you over, running her hands carefully over your injures.Â
âVampires?â She asked Bucky, flecks of red flashing across her eyes when Bucky nodded. âWhat are they doing hereâ
âTheyâve been watching herâ Bucky swallowed thickly, the sense of dread returning when he thought about what could have happened if he hadnât found you in time. âThey were going to feed...â
âLeave it to them to prey on the most vulnerableâ Wanda shook her head in disgust, scanning the shelves for all the medicines sheâd made. She grabbed a small vial, squeezing a few droplets out onto your skin, wrapping the scratches with a soft cloth. âSheâll be okay, just needs to rest. They didnât bite her so she wonât be affected in anyway. Just keep an eye on her throughout the night in case sheâs in any painâÂ
Bucky nodded, thanking Wanda as she left. You stirred, the oil on your arm starting to sting making you groan in pain.Â
âDoll, are you alright? What hurtsâ Bucky was at your side in an instant, eyes clouded with worry. You clutched onto your arm, curling into a ball, biting your lip waiting for the pain to cease.Â
âJust stings, thatâs allâ You tried to bear the sting, letting out a strained groaned as the pain radiated more. It seemed to come in waves, pulsing through your body. Bucky crouched beside you so he was at eye level with you, his hand gently skimming over your covered scratches. You relaxed for a moment at his touch, your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones.Â
âItâs the healing oil. It stings more because...â Bucky bit his lip, pausing and choosing his words carefully, âWell, the medicines were made for-for our kind?â He gave you a lopsided smile, âItâs very potentâ
âYour kind?â You cocked your head, urging him to continue though there was only so much left to explain after youâd literally seen him shift from wolf to human.Â
âWerewolfâ He grinned; you could hardly believe moments ago his perfect teeth were razor sharp.Â
âWerewolf?â You repeated, still struggling to take in everything that had happened in the past few hours. Youâd always felt an intense unexplainable energy in the air since youâd moved to the area but you were not expecting werewolves. Or vampires for that matter. Bucky chuckled at your wide eyes, helping you sit up.Â
âNot Jacob from Twilight werewolfâ He playfully rolled his eyes while you giggled, âA real werewolf sweetheartâÂ
âAh, of course, so more Mason from Wizards of Waverly placeâ You giggled, half expecting yourself to wake up from whatever strange dream this was. âtell me moreâ
âHmmâ Bucky thought, not knowing where to start, a part of him worried youâd be scared off, though you didnât seem to be uncomfortable around him. âWeâve lived here for generations, the territory is ours. We donât typically reveal ourselves to the outside world. We donât have to wait for a full moon to change, we can do it any time. We shift according to our places in the packâ
âAnd what's your place in the packâÂ
âLeaderâ He smiled softly, proud of his pack, the family he loved more than himself.Â
âThank you by the wayâ, your fingers skimming over a few scratches that were on his hands, previously large paws when he had fought off Walker, âFor saving me...â You realized you didnât know his name.
âCall me Bucky, dollâÂ
Bucky insisted you sleep in his room though you refused, not wanting to impose. He laid out his softest and warmest blankets and coziest pillows, creating a safe space for you to sleep in. You gasped, looking at the way heâd set everything up, it almost resembled a nest of blankets and pillows. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, giving you some of his clean clothes to sleep in after you showered. You fell asleep instantly, his soft scent all over the bed lulling you into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head touched the pillow.Â
Bucky made his way back outside to check on Steve, Sam and Peter, rolling his eyes when he saw they were perfectly fine, the three nursing beers while sitting on the stairs of his cabin.Â
âWhat the hell are you-â
âSo this is who youâve been keeping an eye onâ Sam smirked, nudging Buckyâs shoulder while Steve and Peter shared shit eating grins.Â
âShut up Samâ
âSee? He didnât deny it!â
âSo what, youâve been watching me?â Bucky cocked and eyebrow while Sam scoffed.Â
âPlease. Youâre always looking out the window like a love sick puppyâÂ
Bucky was able to control many things with his body but he couldnât for the life of him control the blush that spread across his cheeks.Â
âI didnât know alphaâs could blushâ Steve cackled while the rest joined, each poking fun at the way his cheeks reddened more.Â
âIâm going to sleep, or so help me God-â He shook his head, going back inside and laying on the couch. He couldnât help the butterflies that fluttered around his tummy, the sweet sunshine he loved to see everyday was there.Â
In his home.
In his bed.
In his clothes.
...
Calm down Bucky.
He made sure to periodically check on you like clock work, not getting a wink of rest through the night, not when you had been hurt. He loved the way you looked, curled up in his bed, sleeping soundly. A flash of anger pulsed through him when his eyes fell on your bandages. Those that hurt you. Itâd be a problem for another day but heâd fine a permanent solution to that problem very soon.Â
*****
You blinked awake, the delicious scent or fresh berries and pancakes wafting through the air. You felt warmth creep up your cheeks when you found another fresh set of clothes placed by the bed along with a brand new tooth brush and a towel. You mentally scolded yourself for the way your heart tried to skip at his acts of kindness, but you couldnât help it.
There was something about him.Â
You quickly got changed, padding down to the table where stacks of pancakes were piled high along with cut up berries. Bucky grinned when he saw you, his heart fluttering again at the way his Henley hung loosely on you.Â
âGood morning doll, how you feelingâ
âBetter, again thanks to youâ You felt giddy over his handsome smile and yet a sense of calm whenever you were near him. You couldnât understand why you felt so comfortable around his presence. He was a stranger to you yet you felt like youâd found your place. Youâd known him for less than 24 hours but there was a connection. Around him, you felt protected. Cared for. Perhaps it was the fact that he was the leader, so naturally he had a very protective nature. That had to be it, itâs not like you were special to him. Â
You repeatedly had to remind yourself to stop gazing at him because there was another issue. Itâs not like you were blind. Bucky was gorgeous. You loved his scruffy beard and dark hair, what you wouldnât give to run your fingers through his soft-
What-Â
You blinked, clearing the rogue thoughts that tried to probe your mind, distracting yourself with breakfast instead.Â
âI didnât know werewolves liked pancakesâ You teased, ignoring the way your skin heated up, popping a berry into your mouth.
âI like to eat lots of things, dollâ Bucky smirked at the way you moaned, licking off a droplet of the berry juice that stained your lips. Your pretty lips. Soft. Supple. Kissable. Would look even prettier wrapped around his co-
He shook his head, hoping to get his mind out of the gutter, why was he like this. A knock on the door made you jump while Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing a few more plates before making his way to the door.Â
âFor fucks sake, even on a Saturdayâ Bucky mumbled to himself, knowing damn well the three idiots he called friends would have smelled him making breakfast from 3 cities away, let alone a few cabins down. You heard the voices of a few men, two large men about the size of Bucky entered the kitchen along with another who looked much younger.Â
âY/n, this is Steve, Sam and Peterâ
You instantly recognized the three as the very same ones who had came with Bucky the day you were attacked. All three of them were as sweet to you as Bucky but you couldn't help but find Peter the most adorable, who managed to eat the most out of everyone. They happily raided the kitchen, passing each other glances you couldn't pinpoint, each look making Bucky more flustered.
âYou protected meâ You smiled at Peter, who blushed, stuffing another pancake into his mouth while Sam shook his head in disgust.Â
âIt was nothing, weâre just happy youâre safeâ Peter preened at your praise, finishing the last of what was on the table.Â
âBarnes, Peter ate everything againâ
âFor fucks sake-âÂ
Bucky didnât let you lift a finger the entire morning, serving you everything you wanted and clearing the table away. In fact, he didnât let you do anything that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. A week. Two weeks. He wanted to make sure you were completely okay before letting you leave. He was there to take care of anything you needed, cleaning and applying the oil to your cuts, redressing the bandages. Getting you fresh clothes. Fluffing out your bed so itâd be warm and cozy. While you adored the warmth of his bed, you couldnât help but wish heâd just stay with you instead. Heâd introduced you to the rest of his pack, everyone happy to have you around when they saw the way his cheeks would tint pink when you sat beside him.
Youâd both spent countless hours each night, talking by the fire place or walking in the moonlight. Each night, heâd make sure you were comfortably tucked in before crashing on the couch, occasionally morphing into his wolf form and curling up by the door just to be extra safe.
Bucky wasnât sure why he was so drawn to you. What started as admiring you from afar was now making his heart beat faster. Skin warmer. He knew the feeling was far more intense than just friendship. He felt a bond. Something that pulled him to want you by his side forever.
For you to be his mate.
It was rare for werewolves to find a mate that wasn't a werewolf like himself but here was. In love with you. He never felt a pull like this towards someone else. Everything he felt was 10 times stronger than before, growing more and more with each day he spent with you.Â
*****
âI know itâs been a few days but...maybe you should stay a little longer?â Bucky knew there was truthfully no reason for you to stay any longer; the wounds had completely healed and you were perfectly fine.
Still...
"Are you sure?" You bit your lip, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his arms for the night as he stood by the bedside, handing you one of his sweaters.
"Of course, I-I don't want anything to happen to you, so just to be safe" He smiled softly, itching to just crawl into bed with you and snuggle.
âBucky, you-you donât have to sleep on the couchâ You sat up just as he was about to leave, your heart beating a little faster when he stopped and turned around. "You can sleep here"
âAre you sure?â
You nodded, moving over slightly and lifting the covers up so he could lay beside you. At the start of the night Bucky was as still as a statue, worried you'd find it odd if he got too close, making sure there was distance between you both before he closed his eyes.
Of course, even in his sleep he sought you. You sighed contently at the feeling of his arm wrapping around you waist, pulling you close to his chest, his face burying into your neck, a happy low rumble emitting from his chest at the way you felt in his arms. He nuzzled his face into your skin, keeping you flush against him the entire night, hoping the sun would ride just a little bit later.
Every night, your cuddles became a little more intimate. You'd start off at opposite ends of the bed, only to find yourself tangled in each other each morning. Hands would wander a little more each time with gentle touches and a few extra kisses.
****
"Just come cuddle" You giggled as he scooted over, giving up on trying to sleep at the other side of the bed. Bucky smiled, pulling you to lay on his chest, his hand slipping past your shirt, gently stroking your spine. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, loving the way your skin felt on his lips. He didn't want to stop, continuing to trail kisses down your face, holding you a little tighter, the need to have you completely growing stronger. His eyes locked with yours, nervously leaning down, smiling against your lips as you closed the gap between you both.
His hands carded through your hair, deepening the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips, slipping into your parted mouth. He couldn't help himself, rolling you both over so you were pinned under him, dominating the kiss till you both needed air. Your eyes grew wide feeling his length pressing against your tummy, hips rutting slightly, fighting himself from stuffing you full of him.
"Buckyy" You panted from under him, gripping onto his arms, spreading your legs further for him. The needy whine that fell from your lips made him growl, he could smell how aroused you were, his cock painfully hard in his sweats. "Need you"
âI-I donât want to hurt youâ He whispered, his mind conflicted over wanting you so badly but also worried his hurt you with his strength. He nearly whimpered feeling the warmth of your core pressed against him, your thighs squeezing the sides of his waist.
âYou wonât hurt me Buckyâ Your eyes were pleading with him, needing this just as much as he did, he only had so much self restraint.
âLet me taste you?â He crawled down, his fingers skimming around the waist band of the boxers he had given you to wear, pulling them down as you nodded. He threw his own shirt off before settling between your legs, spreading your pussy apart, his hunger for you growing at the way you glistened under the dimly lit room. "You smell so sweet, angel"
You felt shy under his intense gaze as he looked up at you while kissing the soft flesh of your thighs. Bucky nearly growled as soon as his tongue flicked across your clit, feeling the way it throbbed each time he licked you. His lips sealed around your sensitive nub, alternating between lapping up your arousal and toying with your clit, suckling and kissing you, moaning when he felt your hands tug at his hair.
"Grind on my face sweets" Bucky threw your legs over his shoulders, urging you to push his face down deeper, the greedy side of him wanting to suffocate between you legs. You squeaked when he guided your hand to pull at his roots, a feral look flashing in his eyes when you hesitantly pulled a little harder, his eyes rolling back.
"Just like that baby, I'll use my tongue all over this pretty pussy, just show me how" He groaned as you pushed his head down, your back bowing off the bed feeling his tongue slip inside you, drinking every drop you gave him.
"Bucky, need you-" Your body felt hot, pussy clenching and throbbing, aching for him to fill you. He kissed up your body, throwing the rest of your clothes off before lining himself up with your entrance, his breath fanning over your face.
"Sweetheart, I don't know if I'll be able to control myself" He stroked your forehead, his cock leaking against your pussy. "It's more than just- I can't explain it-
You smashed your lips against his, squeezing your legs around his waist tighter, cutting off his nervous rambling. "Please, I want you, want to feel you Bucky, all over you"
"M'right here angel, you have me" He let out a shuddered breath as he started to press into you, moaning against your neck once he was fully sheathed inside you. He moved slowly, rocking his hips while his nose tracing against the column of your neck, his hands moving to fist the sheets. He could feel them tear under his grip, your tight pussy and sweet scent awakening something primal.
âDoll...â He groaned in your ear, his cock swelling more with each thrust, âBaby, I-
He let out a desperate growl, his hands balled into fists, his corded back muscles tensed, holding back from pounding you into the mattress. You could feel his cock grow harder, stretching you more, the swollen tip rubbing against your sweet spot making you gush around him.
âWhat is itâ You whispered, your thumb caressing his scruffy cheek, your soft touch only making it more difficult for him to hold back.
âFuck babyâ It almost hurt him, desperately wanting you to be all his, his tongue licking and nipping your neck, biting his lip to keep from sinking his teeth in. âWant you to be mineâ
âI'm yours Buckyâ You carded your fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp, making him growl, the soft color of his eyes now an intense sapphire blue and glowing. Bucky gently nipped your neck, holding back how badly he wanted to claim you, mark you, the smooth canines of his teeth growing sharper the more you moaned for him.
"Y-you don't understand sweets, I want-I want you forever"
"You have me Bucky" You clenching around him, your moans broken as the band in your belly tightned more. Bucky grinded his hips down, desperate to be as deep inside you as possibly, the coiled hair at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, warmth spreading through your body. "I'm-I'm gonna-
"Cum for me angel, I need it, need it baby, cum for me please" He moaned with you, his hand flying to the headboard, the wood splintering and cracking under his grip. He started to chase his own high, speeding his thrust's up, his balls slapping your ass grunts growing deeper.
"M'gonna cum baby" He could hard speak, too consumed and overwhelmed by the way he felt inside you, his cock swelling and throbbing, spurts of precum already soaking your pussy.
"Cum Bucky!"
"You're mine" He panted, his forehead resting on yours, "Say it sweets, say you'll always be mine?"
"M'yours" You nodded, kissing his nose, your hands cupping his face, "All yours Bucky, make me yours"
"Oh FUCKK" Bucky moaned against your neck, his teeth grazing your soft skin, biting just enough to to mark you without hurting you, gently licking the area after while he continued to moan and whine, his orgasm unending. "All mine"
You both laid tangled in the sheets, going for a few more rounds until the sun came up. You shivered at the feeling of his hands trace over your skin, your whole body sensitive from how many times he had you cum all over his cock. His hands. His face. There was a feeling of security surrounding you as you laid on his chest, the faint mark on your neck tingling.
âWill you be my mate?â Bucky whispered shyly, blushing more at your giggle while you sat up slightly, your nose bumping against his.
"Even if I'm not a werewolf? " You teased while Bucky playfully rolled his eyes, nipping you again.
âOf course, how else will I protect you bunnyâ He let out a growl, cocking his eyebrow while you squealed, finding yourself flipped under him again. "You'll stay with me sweetheart?"
"Even if I can't change into a giant a fluffy puppy like you under a full moon?"
"Yes"
"Even if I can't hear Sam sneaking into the house for breakfast from 3 houses down"
"We'll work on that"
"Do I always have to rub your belly and feed you my peanut butter treats when you turn into a pouty little werewolf, pretending to be a big scary leader to everyone else"
"Yes and now that you know that secret, you have to stay" Bucky grinned, his hopeful eyes shining brighter when you cupping his face, kissing him deeply.
"I already told you, I'm all yours"
****
Imagine the utter joy the rest of the pack get from how soft Bucky is for you. They're so used to seeing him unmoving and broody but now theres flowers around his cabin and the blush is just part of his face now. Steve and Sam help move some of your things over to Bucky's, more than happy to have you around because now there's even more food for them to eat.
Nothing turns you on more than when he goes into protective mode. His eyes glow. His muscles tense. The growl that rumbles from deep in his chest makes your thighs squeeze together. He keeps you by his side, always touching you, his hands lingering on your waist, toying with your hair or playing with your fingers.
It's not often he fully transforms but when he does, its because someone got too close to you.
You can't help but giggle when you see him transform into his werewolf form because he's beautiful and scary, teeth barred out, claws flexed out, but only you know how adorably cuddly he is when he's just alone with you. He nudges his head against your hand, whining for you to give him attention, he's three times your size but his tail swishes about like a playfully puppy.
Theres no doubt you're the best thing thats ever happened to him.
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A remarkable but insignificant woman in your village, your life changes irrevocably and in frightening ways the day you wed the son of the village chieftain. Your nuptials were unknown to the fierce viking warrior and king Steven and his men the day they landed on your shores, but he is not unhappy about the opportunity that presents itself in claiming the bride.
Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] DARK STORY, invoking prima nocta, non-consent/rape, stealing of virginity, explicit smut, rough sex, use of pet name (little bride, little wife), human tribute/trade, kidnapped wife
â So Black the Darkness Hums
â Ceremonial Rituals
â Fierce Affirming Sight of Sunlight Steven's POV
â Come Down from Battle
â more coming soon
What if this Steve were a mob boss instead of a Viking King?
Commentary:
an ask about whether or not his queen would consider divorce
I was a Ph.D. student at oxford, which is something that I really wish would come true. I was in class and there was Lando in my class. Also, fyi he is not even my fav F1 driver but I don't control my dreams. So...
It started with me and my mom packing my bags. The next thing I know, I am in a dorm common area/ student lounge kind of a place and I am sitting on a couch and Lando is sitting on the other side of the couch but there are a few more people there and everyone is talking. Though my stupid head in my dream is thinking that I should have gone for waxing and not shaving coz that's always better... painful but better.
Next thing I remember is going back home to get more of my things and somehow I am able to easily travel between the two countries without being affected by the time difference or anything.
Then suddenly I am in class and there is someone sitting on my right and next to them, is Lando. This is a serious lecture and lando passed me a piece of cadbury from behind the person sitting between us and then I woke up. I woke up with a really bad headache at 8am when I am supposed to be in office at 9am. I had to skip breakfast and take an uber to work and then suffer for another hour with the headache because I couldn't get coffee.
To get to the point-
The thing is, I have always had this habit from school days to masters, I always carry chocolates and candies and share them with my friends in class. Even now I keep a jar of chocolate minis on my desk and a bag of smarties in my drawer hidden behind the files. I am always the one giving sweets to people but never on the receiving end of things. So, the little rectangle of cadbury meant a lot, so much so that it is still, after 4 hours, stuck in head like a movie scene starring a smiling Lando.
Summary: You accidentaly call Bucky babe during a mission briefing in front of the whole team.
Word Count: 506
Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating
A/N: This is a short story that came to my mind while I was studying, so I had to write it down. Hope you like it :)
Everyoneâs crowded around the mission table. Itâs too early, someone definitely stole your last coffee, and you're still rubbing sleep out of your eyes when Steve starts explaining the recon plan with way too many acronyms.
Buckyâs next to you, legs slightly touching, flipping a pen between his fingers like heâs not just waiting for a reason to pull your chair closer. Heâs staring straight ahead like a good soldier, but you catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye every time your knee bounces.
You're trying to pay attention. Something about rooftops, safehouses, surveillance drones and youâre barely following whenâ
ââŠand Barnes, youâll be on overwatch with Y/N.â
And you, running on 2 hours of sleep and one granola bar, lean toward Bucky without thinking.
âDid you hear that, babe?â
Silence.
Cold. Dead. Silence.
Everyone looks at you.
Nat squints. Sam raises both eyebrows so high they disappear into his hairline. Peter drops his pen. Steve, bless his heart, blinks like someone just smacked him with a frisbee.
Bucky doesnât breathe. Your soul detaches from your body, floats toward the ceiling, and screams.
You scramble. âIâI said bro. Like, âDid you hear that, bro?â Thatâs what I said. Like aâŠcool, soldier-y nickname. Haha.â
The room is quiet again. No one believes you. Especially not Sam. Â âYou said babe. You said it casually.â
Bucky doesnât even look at you. Heâs locked in full Winter Soldier mode, eyes fixed on a random spot on the wall like heâs trying to transcend to another timeline.
âI think she said brrr,â Bucky offers, stone-faced. âSheâs cold.â
âSheâs wearing a hoodie,â Peter mutters.
You laugh way too loud. âItâs the energy in here. Very chilly.â
Bucky leans back in his chair, arms crossed, staring straight ahead like if he makes direct eye contact with anyone heâll combust.
Steve slowly turns to him. âBarnes?â
ââŠYeah?â
âYou cold too?â
Bucky shrugs. âFreezing.â
You know heâs going to murder you in the hallway. Probably kiss you breathless after. But firstâdeath.
Steve stares a moment longer. Thenâmercifullyâmoves on. But the damage is done.
Nat doesnât. âSo⊠bro, huh?â
You glare at her.
Later, when the meeting is already over, you burst in Bucky's room, already talking. âI told you this would happen, I told you Iâd forgetââ
Bucky slams the door shut and corners you. âYou said babe. In front of Rogers.â
You bury your face in your hands. âI wanna crawl inside a ventilation shaft and disappear.â
He chucklesâactually chucklesâand pulls your hands away.
âWanna know a secret?â he murmurs, leaning in.
ââŠWhat?â
âI liked it.â
You blink up at him. âYou liked almost being exposed?â
âNo,â he says, brushing his nose against yours. âI liked hearing you call me babe.â
Your heart stutters.
ââŠSay it again.â
You grin. âBabe?â
Then he kisses you like the whole building isnât even real. Like the only thing in the universe is your mouth and his hands and the way you said it without even realizing.
A/N: i just wrote a lil part 2 about them, itâs not a direct sequel but if you feel like cheking out, here it is. hope you like it, and thanks for reading <3
i need to catch up on this one. it is such a beautiful and funny storyline...
i've read a few parts here and there and it always makes me smile.
aaaahhhhh god!!! i mean people are manifesting for millions and i just want my person, if not that then a few millions. sadly i am not getting either of these things.
but this is cute. at least temporary happiness is there in my life.
A remarkable but insignificant woman in your village, your life changes irrevocably and in frightening ways the day you wed the son of the village chieftain. Your nuptials were unknown to the fierce viking warrior and king Steven and his men the day they landed on your shores, but he is not unhappy about the opportunity that presents itself in claiming the bride.
Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] DARK STORY, invoking prima nocta, non-consent/rape, stealing of virginity, explicit smut, rough sex, use of pet name (little bride, little wife), human tribute/trade, kidnapped wife
â So Black the Darkness Hums
â Ceremonial Rituals
â Fierce Affirming Sight of Sunlight Steven's POV
â Come Down from Battle
â more coming soon
What if this Steve were a mob boss instead of a Viking King?
Commentary:
an ask about whether or not his queen would consider divorce
