Amelia’s secret hideout

Bucky rushes over to you, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you. His kiss tells you he missed you just as much as you missed him, his hand moving to take the duffel bag off your shoulder while his other grabs your hip.

You pull away from his lips to catch your breath and say, "Sorry I'm late, but it's been a long time since I've flown commercial, and there was a whole thing with my bag-"

"It's okay. You're here now," He cuts in, taking a moment to look you up and down while holding your hands, as though he needs to prove to himself that you're really here. Here, where you really shouldn't be.

While you've got a short break between Jagged Edges promotion, Bucky's still halfway through filming his thriller-romance with Natasha. They're out in Slovenia for three weeks filming the remaining scenes, and he didn't want to go that long without seeing you, so he booked this AirBnB and flew you out - first class on a commercial flight; private would've drawn too much attention - so you could spend his two days off together.

"How are you feeling? Are you tired? Hungry?" He asks you while leading you through to the kitchen. "I've started up on some dinner for us - but if you wanna take a nap, first-"

"No, I'm starving," You admit as the aroma of onions and peppers takes you over. "God, that smells good. What are you making?"

"Im trying to recreate my chef's pasta; I know you like it," He tells you as he grabs a wooden spoon and stirs whatever is in the pot on the stove.

"Wow, carbs while filming?" You ask teasingly as you join him, wrapping your arm around his torso. "That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

Just then, your phone rings. You plan to hang it up straight away, but when you see it's Pepper, you know that isn't an option. With your ongoing case against Thor, there might be something important she needs to tell you, so you take a step away from Bucky.

"Sorry, I gotta take this," You whisper before picking up the phone. "Hey, Pepper, what's up?"

"Just checking in," She sings down the phone. "Where are you? You turned your location off."

"Oh, right, I'm just... in Mexico for a couple of days," You answer, ignoring Bucky's smirk. "Just wanted a break from everything, so I booked a small villa to myself for some peace and quiet."

"Without the jet?" She wonders, making you inwardly curse yourself.

"Uh, I drove," You improv quickly, ignoring Bucky's snort.

"You drove from New York to Mexico?" Pepper questions you. "Y/N, why are you lying to me?"

"Oh, I must've got cut off - I was saying, I drove to the airport, realized I hadn't asked Sanny to get the jet ready, so just decided to fly commercial," You explain, hoping you sound believable. "It's amazing what a great disguise a hat and face mask make."

"Right. Anyway, so you know how we said you were gonna stay lowkey during the court hearings, until it all blows over? Subtle and unproblematic, out of the public eye as much as possible aside from Jagged Edges promo?" She asks, her tone putting you on edge.

"Uh... yeah?" You reply carefully, glad she's moved on from asking how you got to Mexico but just as concerned about her next words.

"Well, what the fuck? I mean, posting a selfie on Instagram with Deja Vu by Olivia Rodrigo playing in the background?" She asks with annoyance in her tone. "That is not subtle and unproblematic. It's messy!"

"I like that song!" You claim innocently.

"Stop it. You know what you're doing when you post things like that," She scolds you. "There's no agreement in place with Natasha's management for a messy love triangle or drama. Don't tell me you developed a crush on Bucky for real? Or is it just for media attention?"

You jump slightly when Bucky squeezes your ass as he walks by you, and you let out a soft laugh. "Maybe a bit of both?" You say to her.

"No more Instagram stories," Pepper orders sternly. "And remember, we have the pretrial on Friday. Hopefully his lawyer isn't a complete asshole and doesn't drag this out any longer."

"Yeah," You mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. The reminder of the case makes you feel sick to your stomach. Once you hang up, you turn to Bucky, who's mixing the cooked pasta in with the sauce.

"Everything okay?" He asks with his eyes on the food.

"She was just angry at me for posting on my story," You tell him with an eye roll as you take your position back by his side. Though you want to hold onto him tighter than ever before, you don't want to start something you're afraid you wouldn't be able to finish.

"Hey," Bucky mumbles as he wraps an arm around you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Looking up at him, into his eyes, you allow yourself to trust him. He won't be mad. It's Bucky. He loves you. "Um... I was just thinking..." You trail off, unable to maintain eye contact with him. "I might not be... I don't think I'll be able to... sleep with you, during this trip. I just... with everything going on with... Thor, I just feel... I don't think I can-"

"Hey, hey, look at me," He says putting down the wooden spoon and instead cupping your face in his hands. "I would never want you to feel uncomfortable. Would never make you do anything you don't want to do. You can and should always be honest with me, you know that."

"I know, but..." You wince. "We haven't seen each other in a while, and we won't see each other until next month now-"

"That's not why I asked you to come here. You know that, right?" He asks as his brows furrow. "I just needed to see you. To be in the same room as you is all I need to feel sane, and like myself. I'm not... I'm not just doing this for sex. I wouldn't be risking everything we're risking just for that. I love you."

Much to your surprise, you don't doubt him for a second. Though you've never been in love before, not even close, and you never thought you'd trust anyone enough to experience it, you somehow feel it for him. And it feels glorious. To let go, to give in, and to risk destruction. Even if he was to ever hurt you, you'd be glad he allowed you to experience the feeling of being loved and cared for for once in your life. You know that's bad - unhealthy, too - you're slipping into the realm of infatuation; the thing you've spent countless hours lecturing Gwen about and telling yourself you'd never allow yourself to be held hostage by. But you trust him enough to know he wouldn't take advantage of the fact that you would do absolutely anything for him.

"What are you thinking?" He asks while pulling open the cutlery drawer.

You shake your head as he takes out a fork and stabs it through the pasta. He blows on the steaming bite while using his free arm to hook around your waist and lift you up onto the counter. Once he's happy that the bite is sufficiently cool enough, he holds it out to you, and you part your lips, allowing him to feed you.

Immediately, your senses are rewarded. You nod whole chewing, your eyes fluttering shut. "Mmm."

"I recognize that look," Bucky utters with a smug tone.

You gently kick his leg before opening your eyes and swallowing. "That's better than Millie's," You say, his talent in the kitchen making you even more attracted to him.

"You remember her name?" He asks while waiting for his bite to cool down.

"I remember a lot about that day," You say, raising a brow. "In particular, I remember you wearing nothing but a towel. Tease."

"I remember you yelling at me," He counters with a smirk. "Trying to stay focused on how angry you were while ignoring how turned on you were."

"Ha! Turned on?" You retort. "You wish."

Taking his bite, he nods, responding once he's swallowed. "You were so close to kissing me that day," Bucky claims while standing between your legs.

"And you would've rejected me," You point out bluntly.

Saying nothing for a few moments, he contemplates it before saying, "I don't think I would have. I'd have kissed you back."

"Liar!" You exclaim. "Remember; this was back at the peak of your pretentiousness and arrogance. And hatred for me."

"Hatred's pretty strong-"

"You would've pulled away and laughed in my face," You say sternly.

Bucky shrugs, pulling his lips down. "I guess we'll never know," He says lowly, before leaning in closer. "But you know I'd never reject one of your kisses now, ever."

"Ever?" You wonder. "Not even if... we broke up?"

"Nope," He answers quickly. "No matter what."

"So, let's say I dump you in a few months, real awful, just a short text ending it, calling you a terrible lover, etcetera," You hypothetize. "Five years later, we bump into each other at a party, and I plant one on you, no warning."

His lips pull up into a smile. "Kiss you back," He says simply.

"You wouldn't," You fire back at him.

"I would, because I'd still be madly in love with you," Bucky tells you teasingly, patting your thighs. "Would you kiss me back?"

You don't even have to think about it. "I don't think there's any way I'd move on from you enough to turn down your kiss," You admit.

"Promise?" He asks with a hopeful look.

With narrow eyes, you rest your hands on his shoulders. "Sure, Mr. Barnes," You say, before tilting your head. "Now, enough talk - how about you carry on feeding me pasta, and then we can find a cheesy Hallmark movie to watch, and I'll let you make all the pretentious comments you want?"

Bucky leans in and gives you a soft kiss. "Sounds good to me, baby."

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of fresh coffee. It takes you a second to remember where you are and why, but then you smell Bucky's cologne on your shoulder, and you immediately grin to yourself. One day, you might actually get used to waking up and smelling like him. You hope you're given the opportunity to get used to him.

Once you've washed up, you make your way to the kitchen where he's stood over the stove again. "Y'know, I could get used to having you in my kitchen every day," You sing out from the doorway.

Bucky turns to look at you and smiles. "And I could get used to seeing you wake up in my t-shirt," He returns. "I hope you don't mind scrambled."

"My favorite," You tell him. Even though you'd usually prefer sunny-side-up, whatever he does is your new favorite. God, you're turning soft. You meet him at the stove and hug his bare torso, stealing the warmth from his skin.

"I hope you slept well," He whispers before kissing the top of your head.

"Best sleep ever," You tell him truthfully.

"Good. Eat up and get dressed; we're leaving soon," He tells you while plating up the food.

"Where are we going?" You ask, your interest piqued.

"You'll see," Bucky says cryptically.

You swat his ass before taking the fork from his outstretched hand. "I need at least a hint so I know what to wear," You retort.

His hand trails down your back and to your ass which he returns the favor to before he says, "A pretty dress will do."

You settle on a short, sage green, cotton dress and your white converse, seeing as Bucky implied you'd be walking for a while. It isn't too warm but the sun is shining as you allow him to lead you through the cobblestone streets.

He takes your hand in his and holds it while you walk together. It feels odd to be in public without worrying about being caught together or swarmed by fans, as though you and Bucky are just normal people. Normal people, with regular lives, and regular problems.

A short walk away from the cottage takes you up to some fields. "Wildflower meadows," Bucky tells you. "Gotta be my favorite thing about this country."

You can't help but agree with him. A sea of colorful flowers fill the field around you, taking your breath away with their beauty. Their sweet smell in the air, not too overbearing, is like nothing you've ever smelt before. While you take in the view, Bucky wraps his arms around you from behind your back, holding you close to his chest.

"I've only ever walked past one of these meadows," He tells you. "I didn't wanna walk through one without you."

You turn to face him and rest your hands on his shoulders, before getting onto your tip-toes, leaning up and kissing him. He wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up so you can kiss him without craning your neck, and you're thankful for the instant comfort. Just as you begin to lose yourself into the kiss, you hear a gentle tinkling sound, the kind that makes you think of stars flickering and sparks flying. You pull away from his lips and ask, "Am I going insane, or do you hear that, too?"

His head turns to the side as he carefully puts you down onto your feet. You look to where he's staring, past the fences of the meadow and into the next field over, where a small group of cows are being walked by a farmer. The source of the tinkling sound becomes apparent to you - the bells around their necks, some of them pausing to graze.

"Oh, my gosh," You whisper, taking a step forward. "That is so cute!"

You watch them meander across the field calmly with a wide smile on your face. When you turn back to Bucky, you see him holding up his phone at you.

"Barnes, are you taking photos of me without permission?" You ask with a raised brow as you walk back over to him.

He moves his phone down and grins as he taps on his screen. "Just give me a sec to add this to my secret album," He utters, making your eyes widen.

"You have an album of photos of me?" You ask him incredulously.

"No. Of cows," Bucky says flatly.

"Show me!" You demand, clinging onto his bicep.

Letting out a half-hearted sigh, he pulls up the photoalbum titled with the initial of your first name - and you're shocked at how many photos are saved in there.

"Two hundred and eighty-three photos? Of me? In your phone? In a special little secret little album?" You ask, your voice getting higher in pitch with each question.

"That isn't a huge amount-"

You take the phone from him and scroll through the pictures, taken aback. There's photos of you eating, watching TV, staring up at the Eiffel Tower, laughing with his sister, one of you brushing your teeth- even a few of you sleeping.

"You creep," You mumble, unable to keep the smile off your face before you realize something. "Wait... these are from... these first ones are from, like, August! When you hated me!"

A sheepish grin sits on his lips. "A good photographer can separate the subject from his feelings for the subject. Especially when the subject is as beautiful as you."

"Cheesy fucker," You whisper, handing his phone back to him. "You've been in love with me this whole time, haven't you?"

Bucky snorts at that and puts his phone away. "I wouldn't go that far," He claims. "I've always thought you were beautiful, you know that."

"But I didn't know you were so obsessed with me!" You point out.

"Obsessed is a strong word-"

"Two-hundred and eighty-three, Barnes," You cut him off curtly.

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, thinking for a second before sighing. "Alright, fine. But if we're talking obsession, you were the one with posters of me in your bedroom-"

"Oh, really? You're going there?" You laugh. "That's a low blow, Barnes. I was a child."

"So was I!" He returns.

"You were just a celebrity crush," You say, grabbing hold of his shoulders. "Maybe you still are."

"Oh, yeah?" Bucky asks with a smirk as he takes your waist in his hands. "So, you only want me because you've seen me on the big screen?"

"Mhm," You nod, playing along. "You're a big household name. That could do a lot for my career."

"Right. You're just using me for publicity?" He asks, squeezing your waist.

"Yep. And..." You begin, leaning up closer until your lips brush against his. "Your dick's pretty nice, too."

A soft chuckle escapes his mouth. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You reply with a whisper. "I wanna touch it."

His throat bobs as he gulps. "Are you sure?" He asks you carefully.

"More than I am about anything," You answer truthfully. Though you weren't in the best headspace last night or prepared for anything sexual, the last 12 hours with Bucky have put you at complete peace. You pull on one of his earlobes. "Are you sure?"

"I've been hard since I saw you in that dress," He admits, before tilting his head and frowning. "Actually, since I saw you in my t-shirt."

With a laugh and a well-stroked ego, you trail your right hand down his shirt and to the zipper of his pants. Pulling it down and unbuttoning them, you gently push your fingers under his boxers, gasping slightly when you feel just how hard he is. His cock throbs as you take it your hand and he sucks in a sharp breath. You look down and pull it out fully before spitting on it and looking back up at him. As you start stroking him up and down, you kiss him deeply, your stomach flipping with excitement when you hear his low moans.

"Hold on," He utters, even though it kills him to interrupt you. He steals a glance at the next field over where the farmer's still walking away, his cows getting smaller and smaller in the distance. Bucky takes your arms and gently leads you over to a big willow tree which he pushes you up against. "A little more privacy."

Continuing rubbing his cock, you raise a brow. "Maybe he's a voyeur and you just ruined his fun," You say teasingly.

A breathy laugh leaves his mouth. "I don't want him to see what I'm about to do to you," Bucky says lowly as his hand moves up to your throat. "Nobody gets to see you like that. Nobody but me."

You playfully roll your eyes. "Someone's getting possessive," You mutter.

He uses his grip on your neck to tilt your head up. "And I'd like to see anyone try and dispute the fact that you are mine," Bucky states, using his free hand to grab your ass. "All of you. You're mine."

"And are you mine?" You ask him with a whisper. "All of you?"

"Always," He replies without missing a beat.

"And not just when your dick's in my hand?" You press, giving him a gentle squeeze.

He sucks in a gasp. "Fuck. No. Always," He swears.

You hum in response, moving your hand agonisingly slow up and down his shaft.

"You're killing me," He groans, resting his forehead against yours.

"Sorry," You say innocently, abruptly stopping your movements and letting go of his dick.

He groans again, his eyes narrowing before he picks you up and lays you down amongst the flowers.

"Oh," You say with surprise. "We're doing this here?"

"We're doing this here," Bucky grumbles. He cups your face in one hand before squeezing your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, and slipping his tongue into it. He kisses you deeply while settling between your legs. You make out for a while, to the sound of birds singing and a gentle breeze flowing. Bucky slowly rubs his hard cock against your panties, the heat between your legs growing. Reaching down, you push your panties to the side, allowing him to rub against your pussy with no barriers. You shudder as your clit is brushed by the tip of his cock, every inch of your body craving him.

"Please," You utter into his mouth. "Please, baby. Be a good boy."

A breathy groan leaves his lips and he slowly pushes into you, pulling a whimper from you.

"Oh, that's it," Bucky moans lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he inches into you. "Always take me so well."

You arch your back and throw your head back as he fills you up, crying out when he starts thrusting in and out. His demeanour shifts suddenly and he's pinning your hands down, fucking you faster as groans leave his mouth.

"Jamie," You begin, using all your will power. "Slow down, baby. I wanna make it last."

Though it kills him, he does as you say, knowing you're right.

"Good job," You say with a grin as he releases your hands. "I'm so proud of you."

His body practically convulses and he sucks in a sharp breath, stilling his movements. "I'll last longer than last time, I promise," He says with a strained voice. "Fuck. What have you done to me?"

You laugh with him still deep inside you, causing your pussy to flutter and tighten around him. Bucky's eyes widen for a second and he pulls out of you, shaking his head.

"Shit. I'm gonna - fuck - I'm just gonna use my hands first," He says between breaths. "I can't... you're fucking insane."

You laugh even harder at his defeat, but you stop when he instead pushes two fingers into you. Though they're nowhere near as thick as his cock, he knows just how to curl them inside you to make your legs shake. And shake, they do. "Oh, fuck, Jamie," You cry out loudly as your arms spread out on either side of you, your hands grabbing fistfuls of grass and flowers.

"You're so beautiful," Bucky utters as his fingers fuck in and out of you. His free hand pulls down the top of your dress, revealing your tits to him which he leans down and sucks. Your hips thrust up as your eyes roll back, complete and total pleasure washing over you. For a second, as you cum, you can't hear, unsure as to whether you're screaming his name or just whispering it.

At first, as you begin to come down, all you can hear is your heartbeat, them his voice slowly becomes clearer. "That's my good girl," Bucky coos as he plants kisses all over your face, making your heart flutter with each one. "Did so well for me."

"James," You say, reaching your hand out to grab his bicep. "Never leave me."

He laughs, and you hope he knows you aren't joking.

"Think you're ready for me now?" You ask as your breathing finally reaches a regular pace. "Or are you gonna cum as soon as you're inside me?"

He winces, settling between your legs again. "Depends on whether you call me a good boy again," He says. "I suggest you refrain."

"But you are my good boy," You whine, cupping his face in your hands as you grin up at him. "Make me proud and don't cum straight away. Can you do that for mommy?"

His eyes flutter shut and he takes in a deep breath. "I'll do my best, baby," He mumbles.

"Excuse me?" You ask with a raised brow, unimpressed.

Bucky's eyes open and they're full of light. "I'm sorry, mommy," He says, unable to hold back any longer as he returns his cock to your pussy and pushes it in. "I'll be good for you. I promise."

With that, he slowly starts fucking you. As you look up at him, you swear the clouds in the sky form around him like a halo. He's looking down at you as if you're the only thing that matters to him, and deep down, you hope that you are.

Bucky groans, stroking your face as he thrusts a little harder. "I love you," He whispers, and it makes your cunt tighten around him. So he says it again. And again. And again.

"Jamie," You cry out, tugging on his hair with one hand and cupping his chin with the other. Your fingers slide up and into his mouth, and he sucks on them with his eyes burning into yours.

"I'm yours," He swears. "As long as I'm alive, I'm yours. No matter what. I don't wanna live without you. I can't."

You wish you could speak coherently - give him back some poetry about how much he means to you - but all you can do is moan and cry. It's enough for Bucky, though, for him to see the look on your face as he draws out another orgasm from you. His thumb rubs circles on your clit, making your legs freeze as your chest shudders. A breath of relief mixed with pleasure leaves your mouth, and you believe a part of your soul leaves you in this moment, joining his.

"That's it, my gorgeous girl," He utters, pressing chaste kisses against your lips.

"Jamie," You whimper, your vision blurring. "I love you."

His jaw clenches and his thrusts lose rhythm. His hips stutter as he cums inside you, chanting your name like a prayer. For a few moments, he rests his body against yours, careful not to put all his weight on you as you both catch your breaths and float back down to Earth. His face is in your neck, lips pressing kissing to your skin, hands finding yours as your fingers intertwine.

Once he's breathing normally again, he sits up and stares down at you before reaching out to the ground. He plucks flowers from the earth around you and places them in your hair, before taking his phone out of his pocket. Then, he pulls the top of your dress back up before taking a photo of you. You can't help but smile. It's the first time he's taking a picture of you without having to do it secretly. He can show you exactly how much you mean to him without being concerned about how you'd react.

You take his free hand and bring it down to your chest, making him grab your boob before he takes another picture. I'm yours. Yours to touch.

Once he's satisfied with the pictures, he lays down next to you.

"We haven't taken one together yet," You point out. "A real one. Not for social media."

He turns the camera and holds it up before taking a few selfies of the two of you.

"You need flowers," You mumble before taking some of the ones from your hair and putting them in his. He takes some more photos and then puts his phone down.

You aren't sure how much time passes as you both stare up at the clouds, watching them move. Pointing out the ones that look like dogs and cars, and one that looks like a dragon. He's holding your hand and you're hugging his arm.

"What changed?" You suddenly find yourself asking.

"Hmm?" He responds.

"That day I told you how I felt. When I poured my heart out to you and you ripped it up and threw it back at me," You say dramatically, turning your head to face him. "You said you weren't ready for a relationship. That you were prioritizing your career, or whatever the fuck. What changed your mind?"

Bucky releases a heavy sigh. "When I was a kid, my mom would tell me how she stopped acting when she met my dad. She probably didn't mean to, but I felt the... the resentment she held for him. She loved him, and still does, but a small part of her blamed him for snuffing out her potential," He tells you. "She felt as though, to start and maintain a family with him, she couldn't be flying across the world to film. Going to events on Saturday nights. Being away from home for so long. She had to make a choice. Acting or family. She didn't regret choosing family, or at least she never made me feel like she did - but there was always a part of her that wondered. That dreamt of herself making her dreams come true. Working with the greats. Becoming one of the greats. That terrifying, nauseating feeling that you've missed out - that you've lost out on something life-changing? It's crippling. Haunts you. And if you're not careful, you end up resenting the life you were given. And I've never been a careful man." He turns to meet your eyes. "That's how I felt since I was a teenager. There was a point, somewhere between Season 4 and 5 of Sunset, that I realized it was something I could take seriously and not just a fun summer job. And when I realized I could take it further, push myself further, it was all I wanted. I saw love as a distraction. A career-killer. I focused on my craft, had to prove myself as more than just the kid on that teen show - refused to be typecast. It was hard work, proving myself. And once I got to a level where I was respected by my peers, by directors I spent my life idolizing... I knew I couldn't fuck up. Couldn't give myself any reason to slow down or get distracted. So I shut myself off, wouldn't let anyone in. They tried, and there were times when I might have been tempted to take things further than just a brief night together... but I couldn't. Then... you."

"Me?" You echo, hanging onto his every word.

"Yes, you," He answers, a smile pulling at his lips. "My darling, gorgeous girl. I don't know how I ever walked out of your apartment that night. Regretted it straight away. Living without you for those first few weeks... It was hell. Knowing you were hurt because of me. I realized that it wasn't a choice. You were it - you are it for me. I don't need the accolades. The awards. I don't need the world to love me. Just you."

You trace his nose with your finger, trailing it down to his chin. "I love you, Jamie. I never... never thought I'd say that to anyone and mean it. I always figured that if my parents couldn't love me... if they didn't think I was anything special or worthy, how could anyone else?" You admit, feeling that sharp tingling in your nose as your vision blurs. "They're the people who should love you unconditionally, you know? They should think you're perfect, no matter how many flaws you have. But mine didn't. And it's taken me a long time to realize that that was on them, not me. They were the ones that were broken inside. They projected their insecurities onto me. Hurt me so they could feel power and control for once in their sorry lives. I remember talking to some director about it years ago. She told me to make sure I never opened up about my trauma to anyone because they'd use it against me. That terrified me. The thought that I could meet someone who treated me the way they did. Would I accept it because it felt like home? So, like you, I didn't see falling in love as an option. It would just open me up to getting hurt again. But... you cut me open. I didn't even realize I was falling until it was too late. Or maybe I did, but just ignored it because it felt too good. And maybe I... Gwen says I forgave you too quickly. That I should've shown more self-respect. Don't let a man tell you he doesn't want you twice. She got all that shit from me, so I can't even blame her. But I trust you, Jamie. Maybe it's stupid of me, or maybe I don't care what happens in the future. I'm enjoying myself too much right now to consider self-preservation."

He takes in your words, listening attentively with his hand resting on your thigh. "I'll never hurt you again," He promises lowly. "I'll never walk out on you again. I'll always choose you, and always be on your side."

You smile lazily at him. "Til death do us part?" You ask teasingly.

"Don't try me. I'll take you Vegas right now," Bucky says without a hint of humor in his tone.

"Ew. Something more classy, please," You say with a grimace.

He pulls his lips down as he thinks. "Right here in this meadow?" He suggests.

With a snort, you nod and add, "With the cows as our witnesses."

"Sweet," He whispers with a grin.

"We've already consummated it," You point out. "Is it bad for the bride to already have the groom's cum dripping-"

"Definitely bad," He cuts in. "We won't tell the cows that."

"Alright. I think I feel a bug crawling up my leg," You say. "We should get up before it reaches somewhere I really don't want it to."

"Okay," Bucky replies with a laugh before standing up and pulling you up to your feet.

You flick the bug off your calf and take his hand in yours. He pulls you in for a tight hug instead, and you've never felt so safe or at home. After a few moments, he pulls out the key to the cottage and moves closer to the tree before carving into the trunk. You watch him with a stupidly big smile on your face, feeling giddy like a teenager.

If only it could be like all the time. You swallow down the lump in your throat when you remember you have to fly back to New York tomorrow and prepare for court. Forget about all that. Right now, all that matters is You and Bucky. 4 Ever.

fun fact: i randomly chose Ljubljana as the setting for this chapter then kinda hit writer's block. then, super coincidentally, a coworker tells me about how she went on vacation, traveling across europe, including - you guessed it - a short stay in slovenia. she told me about the cobblestone streets and wildflower meadows, how she suddenly heard this tinkling sound that ended up being the bells on cows, and how peaceful and untouched by tourism the whole place is. it was fate! so thank you for inspiring me with stories of your travels, sharon. this one's for you. drop a W in the chat for sharon.

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"Alright," Pepper says in a quieter voice as she hangs up her phone and sits on the couch opposite you. "Here's what we know: they first got in contact with a few media agencies. Apparently they've been doing so for a couple of months, but nobody picked it up - until TMZ did a few days ago. A guy I know who works on the editing team tipped me off the day before the article was due to go live. I tried to reach you but couldn't."

"I don't care about how the news broke," You say lowly, worried if you speak any louder your voice will break. "How are they here? Why?"

Pepper lets out a long sigh. "They're not close, if that makes you feel better. They live in Wyoming."

"Not far enough," You grumble.

"They say they've been sober for four years. They thought you were dead, and thanks to your new stage name, didn't clock on to who you were until they saw a huge billboard with your face on it," She goes on to explain.

"The Pro-Yo ad," You whisper, letting out a dark laugh. "Fucking protein yogurt is the cause of all this?"

Pepper leans forward, a look of concern on her face. "I know this is a lot for you to take in, and there's probably a lot you're feeling right now. But remember - you have an image to uphold now," She says firmly. "As much as you wouldn't mind them being dead, I think a forgiveness and redemption story-"

"Absolutely fucking not," You say curtly, sitting up and glaring at her. "I don't give a fuck about my image. This is real life. I'm allowed to feel how I feel, and I'd rather chew glass than ever speak to them again, let alone forgive them."

She sits back, not surprised at your reaction but also not happy about it. Before she can say anything, Jenna, your PR advisor specifically brought in for crises, walks into the room while furiously typing away on her tablet.

"Lots going on," She mumbles before looking up at you. "You're number one trending on Twitter right now, but it's not positive. The general consensus is that... you're not being very grateful."

"Fuck," You spit with a dry laugh, shaking your head. "That's because they don't know the truth- they don't know what those bastards did to me. They just think I ran away from home for the fun of it and left my poor parents behind to rot in poverty."

"That's the thing," Pepper chimes in. "The world doesn't know, Y/N. Maybe it's time to-"

"No," You cut her off bluntly. "My trauma is not fodder for a fucking Instagram story, or tell-all podcast. I don't need to open up about my childhood just for the world to rip it apart. It's mine. And how I feel about my parents is none of their fucking business."

"Right now, your parents are owning the narrative," Jenna tells you in a warning tone. "They've brought receipts - happy childhood pictures, anecdotes about your first steps - right now, they seem like the good guys while you ignore them. It doesn't look good, Y/N."

"I don't care how it looks - this is my life," You remind her. "Not a story for me to cultivate."

"Even fans are questioning you," Jenna points out, which admittedly stings to hear.

With a shrug, you stand up. "So be it. It's just a blip, and then someone will get pregnant or have an affair and the world will move on to the next salacious story," You tell them. "I'll lay low for a few weeks, and then promo for Jagged Edges starts in December, which will give the fans something new to focus on."

Pepper frowns, not convinced. "Y/N, even if you just-"

"No, Pepper. No," You say firmly, refusing to budge on your principles. "No."

clubbarnes

↳ natashadailypics

It's always such a shame to see parents being disrespected. Y/N really ought to remember her roots. She would have nothing if not for them.

↳ prettyy/n

we don't know what their relationship is like and as someone with shitty parents I say BELIEVE THE KIDS

↳ sharoncarterupdates

But for her to not even hear them out?? they seem so nice, her dad is so cute 🥹

↳ movieworldnews

You can tell they're genuine people (saying that as a Psych major). The only reason I can see why she'd be ignoring them like this is because she's ashamed of where she came from - which is terrible. She has a lot of maturing to do.

↳ sharonheartbreaker

I for one am going to wait to hear her side. There's a lot of jigsaw pieces missing.

↳ buckyduckydoo

she's an ungrateful fucking bitch, her reaction to this will definitely make Bucky dump her - he loves his parents and wouldn't stand to see someone else disrespecting theirs

↳ buckytea

didn't she meet his parents recently too?? ffs Bucky why introduce her to the family so early on... I feel so bad for Mama Barnes!

↳ steverogersmineallmine

She's obviously not family oriented which is just further proof that James should NOT be with her

↳ Film_Watcher2

Ugh I hate that she was cast in Jagged Edges... yet another Steve movie that'll be hard to watch. I truly hope for his sake he never has to work with her again!

↳ cluby/n

this is hilarious. she's so embarrassed of her impoverished childhood that she's throwing it in her parents' face... truly an awful, vile human being

↳ buuucky

I'm really disappointed. I look up to y/n so much but this has me questioning her character

A call from your assistant pulls your attention away from the tweets, which you're thankful for. "Hey Mel," You answer.

wow... talentless, slutty, homewrecker, did I mention talentless.. and now an ungrateful brat, too? so many reasons to hate this cunt!

"Sorry to disturb you but Mr. Barnes is here - I didn't know if you would be comfortable with me sending him up so he's in the living room."

"Oh," You reply, surprised to hear that he's come over to your house. "Uh, yeah, you can send him up. Thanks, Mel."

"No problem - is there anything else you need from me today?"

"Could you please tell Denny and Claire to finish for the day?" You request, referring to your housekeeper and chef. "And you can go home now, too."

"Of course," Mel replies. "Just call me if you need me."

It doesn't take long for Bucky to get to the top floor of your penthouse, which means you don't get much time to prepare. Is he here to berate you for being a shitty daughter, too?

"Hey," You say as you open your bedroom door and let him in. "Surprised to see you here."

You're even more surprised to see a gift-wrapped hamper in one of his hands and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.

"I wanted to see you," He tells you. "I heard about everything going on and just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Taken aback, you swallow thickly. "How did you know those are my favorite?" You ask as you take the bouquet and smell the fresh flowers.

With a chuckle, he rubs the back of his neck with his now free hand. "Uh, those are the flowers you sew into a dress in Bryn Sinclair. And in an interview, you mentioned the director asked you for your favorite to be used in the scene."

You're even more taken aback. "You- you watched Bryn Sinclair?" You ask, utterly bewildered. "And the press junkets?"

Are you dreaming right now?

"I... might have spent the last two days watching all your films, and a couple of interviews. Figured it was about time I catch up," Bucky admits with slightly pinkened cheeks as he holds up the hamper. "And these are just a few things I know you like. Those biscuits we had at breakfast in Paris, and some chips I've seen you eat. Got you some wine because I thought you'd need it - oh, and the leftover cookies we made together the other day. And some other stuff, too."

"That's... really... kind," You manage to get the words out eventually. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Bucky shrugs, "You're going through a shitty time, so I wanted to pull you out of it. Let you know I'm here for you, and maybe distract you from it for a while."

You hug the flowers to your chest. "So... you don't think I'm being a bad person? That I'm not being ungrateful and disrespectful?" You wonder.

He puts the hamper down on your bedside table and takes the flowers from you, putting them on your vanity. "I think... those bastards don't respect a single iota of your respect," He says simply. "And you're well within your rights to react however you need to. Nothing you say or do could ever even put you at a level playing field with the shit they put you through."

It feels good to know that someone is on your side, and even better that it's Bucky. "Thank you," You whisper as your vision blurs. Don't cry. Do not cry.

"Hey, come here," He mumbles, cupping your face in his hands as he moves closer to you.

"It's... it's been a really shitty day. And night," You tell him, feeling the weight melt off your shoulders with every word you say. "All I've been thinking about is them. What they did. Feeling like a child again. Weak. Alone."

"I've got you. You're alright. I'm right here with you," Bucky utters. "You're not alone and you're most certainly not weak. You have come so, so far, and that was all your own doing. Your hard work got you here. I am so proud of you."

There it is again. That feeling of safety that you try so hard not to feel around him, but you can't help it. He has a way of making you believe that everything will be okay.

"Jamie," You whisper, clinging onto him. "Thank you for being here."

His right hand moves up to run through your hair. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be," He says before kissing you.

It's different to how he's kissed you before - it's soft, and slow. Gentle. Careful. He holds your body in his arms as if you'd fall apart without his grip - and maybe you would. This is different. He's tender in placing you on your bed and taking off your clothes. Soft satin kisses and feather-like fingers trailing up and down your skin. This is different to how he usually touches you because he's being careful - he doesn't want to break you. Unlike the other times, he isn't frustrated. He just wants to make your mind go blank, if only for a short while, and when his fingers delve into you, he does.

"Jamie," You breathe his name out as you sink down into the mattress.

"Just relax for me, baby," He says as he slowly fucks you with his fingers. "Keep your eyes on me. That's my girl."

You don't care if it's going to hurt when he leaves later. It feels too good to try and think logically. Instead, you melt into the feeling of being taken care of, Bucky's buttery voice swimming around your mind as he talks you through it.

"Keep breathing," He utters, his eyes watching your face as you moan. "In and out. Nice and deep. That's it. In and out."

"I'm close," You manage to whimper, your skin burning beneath his.

"Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?" Bucky mumbles against your lips. "That's it, just let go. Just like that. Fuck, you're so good for me, aren't you?"

Your body shudders as you cum around his fingers and you gasp when he pulls them out, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

He pins your hands down to the pillow with one of his, while the other brings his hard cock to your soaking, waiting pussy. You suck in a sharp breath as he pushes it in inch by inch, your eyelids fluttering as fills you up. The both of you let out a content sigh when he bottoms out.

"Missed you," He grumbles against your neck, the vibrations of his voice making you shiver. "Been thinking about you all week. About this."

When he begins to thrust in and out of you, it's slower than he's ever fucked you before. In fact, you'd go so far to say that he isn't fucking you right now- he's making love to you. You've never experienced sex in such an intimate way, as stupid as that sounds. But then again, you've never adored someone as much as you do Bucky. Fuck.

His fingers stroke your thighs and stomach as his hips rock against yours. He sucks on your nipple, rubbing the other one as his swirling tongue sends electric pangs straight to your core. You can't keep track but you're sure you give him another two orgasms at least, while he groans as your tightening pussy milks his cock.

Whimpers leave his mouth and you don't think you've heard anything so pretty. "That's my girl," Bucky groans into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "My gorgeous girl. Tell me."

"I'm yours, Jamie," You cry as you wrap your legs around his waist. "I'm yours."

"Gonna give me one more?" He asks as one of his thumbs rubs on your swollen clit.

"I- I can't, Jamie," You say, shaking your head as tears fill your eyes at the sheer overwhelm.

"Yes, you can," He whispers, thrusting harder into you. "Yes you can, my gorgeous girl. Let go. Take in a deep breath - yes, just like that. Making me so proud. Now breathe out. Mhm, now one last time for me, baby. Breathe in. Nice and deep."

As air fills your lungs, you're hit with a final intense orgasm, your whole body drenched in sweat and tingling with bliss. You breathe out as your eyes roll back and your hips jerk up. Bucky's moaning into your neck, singing your name as he cums inside you.

"Good job, baby, you did so fucking well for me," He groans, thrusting lazily a few more times before stopping with his cock buried in you. His lips press kisses up your neck and jaw until he finally reaches your lips which he places a long kiss on before uttering, "My gorgeous girl."

You aren't sure if it's minutes or hours that pass before he slowly pulls out of you again, but either way it's not long enough. "Don't go," You can't help but say as you cling onto his arms. Usually you're hit with a clarity right about now that would stop you from acting so needy and risk exposing how you feel, but the way he just treated you has put you in a trance you can't escape from. You're not sure you want to.

"I'm not leaving, baby," Bucky assures you as he continues to get off the bed. "Gonna get you a towel."

"Mhm," You mumble as your eyes flutter close.

"Gonna come pee?" He asks you, rubbing your leg.

"Ah. I should," You grumble.

"You should," He echoes, his voice a little distant as he enters the bathroom.

With a huff, you sit up, wincing at the soreness between your legs. You always feel him for at least a day afterwards. But you'd never tell him that - can't give him any ammunition to be smug about.

Once you've done the sensible thing in peeing and cleaning yourself up, you see Bucky's made himself comfortable downstairs in the living room. He's watching what looks like a slasher, which takes you by surprise.

"Horror?" You question as you sit next to him on the couch. "Since when do you like horror?"

He shrugs with a small smile on his face. "I've recently developed a taste for it," Bucky tells you coyly.

That's right - you didn't have time to process it earlier, but he did say he's been watching your films. Which means he saw your sex scene in Bryn Sinclair.

"Did you enjoy Bryn?" You ask him. "I tend to find people either really loved it or completely hated it."

"Loved," He replies instantly, turning to look at you. "Can't believe I didn't watch it earlier. I mean, I heard good things about it when it came out, but..."

"Too pretentious to see it?" You offer with a raised brow.

He chuckles. "Something like that."

"What was your favorite scene?" You ask, poking his side. "And don't say the ending."

"Why not? That's an incredible scene!" Bucky counters.

"Everyone says that, so it's a cop-out. Tell me something niche you noticed about a scene nobody else thought twice about," You request, resting your head on the back of the couch.

"Uh... I liked it when you laughed at Monsieur Demi's break down. That was improv, right? You said in one of the interviews?" He asks you, to which you nod, making him smile as he continues. "That was good. I... I mean, not just for Bryn, but I really like how into the character you get. You really sink your teeth in and understand them. Become them. Not many people can do that to the level you do it, you know? You can usually see some part of the actor still, but you.... completely transform."

He sets your soul alight with his praise, and it means more coming from him than it could from any acclaimed critic or director.

"And sometimes, it's scary as fuck," Bucky continues with a laugh. "You were fucking insane in The Cauldron. Nightmare fuel."

You laugh heartily at that, overjoyed at the fact that you scared Bucky Barnes. With a sigh, you give him a small grin. "Y'know, I'm surprised you didn't say the garden scene was your favorite," You say coyly.

"Well, I didn't hate it," He admits with pink cheeks, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was... very tastefully done."

"Mhm," You reply with a smirk, before sitting up. "Love scenes are weird, right?"

A laugh leaves his mouth. "Uh, yeah, they can be," He agrees. "Depends on your scene partner. And how good the intimacy coordinator is, I guess. And whether you have one."

You nod slowly, looking up at the ceiling. "Sometimes... sex can feel like that for me," You find yourself admitting. "Like a love scene."

He says nothing, waiting for you to expand.

"It feels like a performance," You tell him, unable to look at him as you open up. "Like I'm just an object being used. In the moment, I really enjoy it, but afterwards I feel awful. It's like I realize that... I wasn't truly getting off.  I just enjoyed that I was getting the other person off. It made me feel special, and wanted. Especially when they... fuck, this is so bad, but when I was the other woman... it would feel even better. And I hated myself for it."

Bucky still doesn't say anything, and you're glad for it.

"But it's not like that with you," You whisper, wincing. "As much as I try to make it feel like that."

"What do you mean?" He finally asks.

You sigh as you mentally prepare to tell him the truth. The whole truth. "I try so hard to... stay detached from you. To not do the soft shit. To make myself feel like an object, to make it so I get that awful feeling after sex."

"Why?"

"So I don't do something stupid like catch feelings for you," You find yourself spilling out. A short silence sits between you, painful and slow.

"Would that be so stupid?" He asks you, and your stomach flips.

You give him a flat look. "Catching feelings is always stupid, but especially so when the other person would never feel the same," You say bluntly.

He narrows his eyes. "You think I would never feel the same?"

"You made that clear from the start," You reply with a dry laugh.

Bucky turns so his body is facing you, speaking low and slow. "The start. Yeah. I was pretty tightly wound," He begins. "Thought I was too good for a PR stunt like this, and especially too good to be seen with a party-girl, horror actress. Then we met, and you were so... open and excited about it. It made me even angrier. Why should she get so much out of this when I feel like I'm losing? So I was mean. I was miserable. Did everything I could to make you realize the truth- or what I thought the truth was, anyway. That this stunt was an insult to our careers. I wanted you to hate it as much as I did. Then you hated me. And it was fun. Fighting with you. Made me feel alive. For so long, I realized I'd just been going through the motions. Not really living. But you made me feel every single emotion possible. I think you might have even made me a better actor. Then that night in the club... I was so angry that you looked that good. I tried to ignore my attraction to you, but that night, I crumbled. Tried to convince myself I could sleep with you and still hate you, but... fuck, you're nothing if not a charming little dipshit. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late."

"What was happening?" You ask, your voice wavering slightly as your heart races.

He looks into your eyes. "I think you know," Bucky says. "I think you feel it, too."

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. "But... you said you don't do relationships. Real ones, anyway."

"I don't. Doesn't mean I'm not human," He tells you. "I'm a real person, with real feelings. I just have to put certain controls in place to make sure I don't forget my goals."

You narrow your eyes as you try to understand what he means. "So, you... you like me but you won't do anything about it?"

Bucky lets out a sigh as he looks at the ceiling, and says nothing.

"The contract ends in a few weeks," You remind him. "We'll go our separate ways, and you won't ask me to be with you for real, because you don't do relationships? Are you fucking serious?"

Once again, he doesn't respond, and it pisses you off to no end.

You get up to your feet, glaring down at him. "Bucky, what the fuck?" You spit. "If you're a real person - if we're real people, then why shouldn't we act like it? I don't care if you wanna be the greatest actor in the history of the fucking world, there's space in your life for someone to share that with."

"I'm not saying I never want to be with anyone," He says carefully as he stands up too. "Just... not now. My job is my priority and that wouldn't be fair to you."

It sounds like every other excuse from the fuckboys handbook. You know what he means - he might like you, but you're not good enough for him. He knows he can do better, so he's holding out for better to come along.

"I've told you shit that I haven't told anyone," You say lowly. "Opened up to you. I don't do that."

"Neither do I," He retorts.

"So, what? Were you just method acting?" You all but yell. "If you feel the way you claim you do, why wouldn't you hold onto that? To me? Why are you able to let me go so easily?"

He shakes his head. "This isn't easy."

"Fuck you," You say harshly. "Get out."

"Y/N, please-"

"No - get out!" You repeat louder, hoping that your yelling means he won't notice the tears threatening to spill. "Leave and never contact me again. Not unless it's for this fucking contract."

It looks like he's about to say something - but, weak as he is, he doesn't. He doesn't fight for you. He gets up and walks out of your home.

Alone in the now eerily silent room, you collapse onto the couch, your heart racing and aching as you feel nauseous.

What the fuck just happened?

so. sorry. this story writes itself. i have no control over what happens. please don't hate me

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