Preacher's Daughter.
Synopsis: You're the preacher's daughter, hidden and kept pure by your single father that's mourning the loss of his wife─your mother. In his shadow, you meet the infamous James "Bucky" Barnes, someone your father wanted you to never engage with. TW: Nsfw themes, 18+, angst, death, fluff, romance?, slightly perverted bucky, virgin reader, set in a southern space, fem reader, everyone in this made-up small town is Christian (sorry if you aren't, this is just for the story), religious guilt, religious themes, religious rebellion, reader is in her early twenties while bucky is in his mid-late twenties, cussing, mentions of creepy old men, mentions of domestic violence and this is more of a dads best friends son trope but can be read as strangers to lovers.
✩°｡🧸𓏲⋆.🧺𖦹 ₊˚ The pitter patter of a barefoot child echoed throughout the two-story house. The emptiness of laughter and warmed engulfed the space more than the hollow tune of the radio ever could. The house was filled with four. A mother, a father, a daughter and a dog. The silver laced urn sat with sorrow on the thick windowsill in the kitchen. Grandmother passed years before the girl was born, her death swallowed the family in anything but happiness. The family was shallow. The husband was work dependent, the wife was emotionally unstable, the dog was never really welcomed, and the daughter grew to realize that God would be her savior. He'd save her from the house that was making her gasp for air. Everything happens for a reason. God is your savior. God loves you. He'll protect his children from evil. ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ The curtains to the house swayed with the wind. Windows open to let the summer breeze in. There sat three urns on that thick windowsill now. Your mother, your grandmother and your dog. Your mother─god bless her─died a mysterious cause when you were thirteen. Some said suicide, some said car accident, some said food poisoning and some said assault. But you knew the cause. Your mother died to your father. The angst from your grandmothers passing plagued the household for years and he couldn't take it anymore. In a fit of fury, he struck her. You heard the screaming and yelling, but you couldn't do much. Dad always said that things happen according to god's plan. Her passing was god's plan. You had no friends. Your dad insisted on staying pure. Innocent. Like a lamb. But eventually the lamb grows, right? Eventually you'd be able to make friends, find a boyfriend, get married and have a family. Right? Staying on the family lawn, you often resorted to sewing or reading or attending church. Rosary in hand, head down and eyes closed, you preyed to your god with devotion. You wanted something to break you out this cycle. To feel free. Then it happened. The town was visiting your plot of land for the town meeting. All the families that lived there, children to elders all attended. You sat there, to the left of your father staring at your brown-above ankle boots that by instinct made circling motions in the gravel. You didn't like being the preacher's daughter, especially the attention it came with. But the one time you looked up─the blue eyes from a boy locked with yours. Your feet stopped with the motion, your heart picked up by a few beats and your cheeks rose with blush. You didn't know the man. Didn't know his faith, his family or his face. Only after the eventful evening that only didn't leave you bored because of the mysterious man you saw, did you catch his name. He's Bucky Barnes. "Babygirl, these are the Barnes. They'll be staying with us for a bit, they're visiting from Melrose. A family friend." ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ The events that followed, had you in trance. It started small. Him calling you doll, sweetheart and lovely turned into him holding and kissing your hands, letting you recite the bible to him he didn't really care for it and him helping you with your chores. He and his family were to be staying for a bit. His family wasn't large. It was him and his parents. They stayed in the main house with you and your father; he was worried at first─but ultimately let Bucky stay in the room next to yours. Bucky had to lie and say he had a girlfriend back home. Through letters under doors and hushed promises via torn paper of "Meet me outback of the barn." or "When the rest leave, see me on the back porch." that looked like chicken scratch, you two built something. Something emotional and strong. He noticed how gentle and fragile you were around others, almost like you didn't really interact with people often. He noticed how you lowered your voice when in a room with a man way older than you. He noticed your books of handwritten poetry and tear-stained pages in thick leathered covered books in the library room. You had awfully a lot of books.
"You see this?" He mumbled as his manly fingers entwined themselves with your rosary that laid flat against your chest.
He gave it a quick tug to pull you closer to his warm but welcoming chest. The hot breeze of July sang through the windchimes your mother put up years ago that you never took down. He looked you in the eyes once again, similar to how he first did. "A true Christian would never kiss a sinner under the judgmental eyes of god." One hand goes up to his jaw, the other lays on top of his hand that still has its grip on your rosary. "I.." Hesitation grew in your words. Were you really taking off the sigil of your God for him? "Take..Take it off." His hand balled into a fist, yours stayed on top and with a hard tug then audible pop, your rosary fell into his grasp. Beads flew all over the porch and some landed in your lap. Your faith crumbled under the judgmental eyes of God and in the hands of a man you found yourself inlove with. You found yourself in his lap─hand on his jaw or chest, even in his hair. Lips entangled with heat, desperation and the fresh taste of freedom. He gently pulled you back. "You taste like strawberry." Propping yourself on your knee to give him some space to lean up. "Probably the chapstick. If not, then I guess I have a power." All he did was cackle and look at you before the two of you heard the roaring distaste of the truck his family owned. "Funs over darling, go inside. I'll walk around to the front, so it looks like we weren't together." He said in a rush before leaning down to give you a goodbye for now kiss. ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ Your father was furious. It was hours later, near supper time when he went outback to gather some wood for the fire and saw the broken rosary on the porch near the now empty swing. He got louder and louder with each word. "You BROKE THE ROSARY?" You sat there in the side room chair in tears, anyone in the dining room could hear the volume of his voice. And everyone was too scared to speak up. The oh so weak, innocent, pure and frail preacher's daughter you are could only speak between sobs but nothing you said was able to be heard properly. "Accident, it was an accident! I promise! I-I was on the swing earlier takin' a nap when the rosary got stuck between the planks a-and it broke!" You finally got out without stumbling back. You were already against the wall; you had nowhere to run. You could see the rage in your fathers' eyes. "An ACCIDENT is not being a whore! You think I don't know what you did? Anyone that isn't half ass stupid would figure it out. Sleeping with a man out of wedlock is a SIN!" "H-he was taking care of the chickens, dad! I s-swear dad, he was watchin' over me, but we didn't do anythin'!" You were fearful of your fathers' anger, but you feared losing Bucky more. "I-I'm not a sinner..." "Y'know what? Go up to y'room. I'll speak to the boy." You spent the evening in your room, swallowed by guilt. The rosary wasn't just any, it was special. Your father had given it to you after you were baptized and swore your loyalty to the religion. He was disappointed in you. Disappointed in what you've become. The Barnes are a family friend, mr and mrs Barnes are his best friends. He never thought his daughter would engage with their disrespectful and sinful son James who turned his back on the religion years ago. He was truly a fool for thinking nothing would happen if he let James have the room closest to yours, he hoped you'd heal him. You were of course his pride and joy. "Listen boy, my daughter is my everythin'. Don't bring her down to hell with you, she's too good for that." He held himself tall against the wall, arms crossed with a scowl on his face. "Sir, me and her are just friends. I'm sure whatever happened yesterday outside was a misunderstandin'. While y'all were out, I was takin' care of the stock. She followed me outback and fell asleep on the swing, I kept an eye on her incase a coyote or bear came runnin' out from the forest." He made sure he sounded believable and reliable. He doesn't want his secret darling getting in deeper trouble.
Your father didn't believe him. He can't believe a sinner. "You're lucky you aren't any older y'hear? I ought to beat you into next Monday."
"May I go to bed? It's-" he looked over at the grandfather clock "11:40 and I'm sure you yourself is tired too." He didn't plan on going to bed, at least not in his bed. Your dad clicked his tongue before turning on his heel to go to his room. "Make yourself trustworthy and do the right thing." Bucky sat there for a minute watching your dad go to his room and shut the door before he went to yours. "Go away dad." He smiled from the opposite side of the door, "It's me." ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ "Y'know.." he pulled you back into him, securing another kiss. "Your dad really doesn't like me." "I know...I like you, so that's what matter, right?" You smiled against him and you felt his laugh before you heard it. He laid kissing all upon your bare arms and torso. "Mhmm..that is what matters." He gently pushed you so you'd lay on your back on the bed. He separated your legs so he could have free reign to your body, asking for consent before doing anything. The two of you lay only in undergarments, no religion in sight. The cross above your bed makes eye contact when you arch your back into his firm, comforting and warm touch. A constant reminder that you're no better than a lamb to the slaughter. Connie Francis sweetly plays on your radio as the night goes on. Moans, kisses and embraces are shared between you both until the sun rolls around. When golden hour shines through your white laced curtains you wake to the mess in your room. Your panties and his boxers on the floor, clothing on the end of the bed, the radio still on playing a random song you don't care about, and an incredibly messy bed. The blanket is barely covering the two of you which left the night breeze to work its way up your naked form. But most importantly, a Bucky holding your waist tight and secured. His touch just as warm as light night and just as lovely as the sun in the early morning. You stare at him for just a second longer to see a smirk work its way up his face and his eyes peak open just a bit to catch yours. "G'mornin' beautiful..." He used his arm to prop himself up and out of your bed. Pushing the blanket to aside to give you more grace. Alongside giving you a fantastic view of his toned chest and below. "So.....Last night?" He cackled as he put his boxers and jeans back on. He struggled with his belt for a minute, morning fogginess if you will. "Was great. It was more than great, but my vocabulary isn't vast enough to describe it." He left the room shortly after getting dressed to not bring suspicion and you? You couldn't find the bra or panties you wore last night. You could've sworn they were in the same spot as his boxers.
ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐ Idk how I feel abt this. I had an idea and decided to js do it but didnt really think abt an ending or what not. I didnt know if i wanted to add steve or not, maybe ill do a pt2 at some point. I really like the idea of southern bucky x preacher's daughter or js southern bucky and religion in general.
