Steve wasn’t trapped in that thin hallway with you, your ass pressed to his crotch, his hands hovering right over your hips, his fingers twitching with the exhaustive effort to not just touch. Bucky had thought he might die right there. You’d been so warm, so perfectly molded against him, he could swear you’d always just been two pieces of the same stone, split in half and always able to fit back together.

Steve would tell Bucky that wasn’t how people worked. That everyone was their own person, and the idea of being incomplete wasn’t going to help his recovery from Hydra. Bucky would tell Steve that he didn’t get it. That he knew he didn’t deserve to drag you down with his titanium coated baggage, but that didn’t mean he could stop the twisted, selfish desire to. Bucky was a man on his own. An island or a continent or a mountain, or whatever the hell else his therapist told him to visualize as a stupid self-actualization exercise.

But the continents had been connected, all those millions of years ago. They’d been one piece, cut in half by time and nature. Asia wasn’t any less of a continent because it wasn’t connected to America’s ass anymore.

But if Bucky was Asia, he really wanted to be connected to your ass.

He’d closed his eyes, in that tight hallway. His breath had fanned over your neck and his hands had curled into fists, resting themselves right at the top of your waist. You’d shivered. He’d been able to hear your heart stumble, you breath hitch, a tiny, sweet little sound whine in the back of your throat.

He’d dropped his face against your neck, and you’d leaned back, exposing your neck to his thin-pressed lips. Bucky had kissed over your soft skin, the curve of your neck, the sweaty column of your throat, then line of your jaw, open-mouthed and hungry. His tongue had flicked against a pulse point, and you’d whimpered. His arms had wrapped fully around your body, one hand splaying on your upper stomach so his thumb could graze your breast, the other rubbing along your abdomen.

He’d teased your waistband. Sucked a dark, possessive mark on your throat and slipped his fingers into your pants. You’d spasmed against him, and he’d hummed, pressing his thumb against a thick, wet spot on your panties. Bucky had groaned and pulled them to the side, dipping his fingers into your heat, and he’d known it would feel this good. Soft and tight, a better smell than the beach, rich and earthy and perfect. Just like you.

You’d reached back, running your fingers through his hair and gasping his name. Bucky had groaned against your skin and pushed his finger into your tight entrance. You’d squeezed around him, and his thumb had found your clit, rubbing tight circles to ease you open.

“Shhh, babydoll,” he’d rasped. “Just relax. Lemme in and relax.”

You’d cooed, but given in. Bucky had covered your open mouth with a hand and kissed your neck, scissoring and pumping his fingers, and-

“Hey. Bucky.”

Sam snapped his fingers in Bucky’s face, and Bucky blinked. The fantasy drained from his head with all the blood in his face. He clenched his jaw, glowering at Wilson’s smug, amused expression, and raised his brows. Sam grinned, something gleaming in his eyes that Bucky didn’t like. It never spelled anything good, when Sam looked at him. Especially not now. When the mission had gone so horrible wrong.

“You looked a little lost in thought there, Buck,” Sam drawled, and—across the Quinjet—Steve glanced up with a curious expression.

“He’s probably just thinking about getting the detox,” Steve offered, and Bucky half-appreciated it, but the punk should know better than to even engage with Sam.

They all knew that wasn’t what he was thinking about. Sam and Steve both knew about his… sins. They’d gotten him drunk once—a feat within itself, but Steve had a supply of Thor’s super-mead stuff, and they’d both noticed that Bucky was acting weird—and he’d told them the awful, shameful truth.

So everyone in the jet knew exactly what Bucky was thinking about, almost every second of every day. So often he had to be finding new, split seconds between time, just to think about you a little more.

Everyone knew.

Everyone but you.

You sat on the far side of the jet, watching Bucky with that quiet concern that made every single inch of his body ache. His heart pounded because it wasn’t close enough to yours, his hands got sore because they weren’t pressed to yours, and his feet felt like they were made of bricks, unable to walk across the carrier to your side. But his stomach churned and twisted, reminding him why he couldn’t have you. You weren’t his. You might think you wanted to be, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could offer you that some other, safer, healthier guy couldn’t.

And he hated that guy. That faceless phantom that haunted him, that stole you away, that Bucky was going to have to pretend to like. He dreamt about wiping that invisible smirk off the man’s face, then socked himself in the gut for having the gall to be so possessive over the very thing he was trying to let go.

Bucky’s life was a cage, and he’d never be able to escape it. He owed an eternal debt to the Avengers, the government, the Starks. He was never gonna get the normal life, and he just had to wait for you to see that, and stop looking at him like he might be worth it anyway.

He caught your eyes, and you looked away, flushing furiously. Bucky could goddamn smell the pulse of your cunt, getting wet just from being under his gaze. Steve coughed loudly, and Bucky would laugh if he could find the humor, but there wasn’t much of it.

Not here.

Because the mission had gone horribly.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, Buck?” Sam asked, because he was the most annoying person Bucky had ever met.

His eyes were sparkling. Bucky glowered at the little shit, trying to pretend he couldn’t feel your gentle, curious gaze across the carrier. He clenched his jaw, locking it shut, not even daring to tell Sam to stuff it. An uneasy prickle settled over his skin, reminding him that opening his mouth could be the end of the damn world.

What was he thinking about.

You. Always just you. How you’d feel in his arms. How you’d call his name and look at him like he was worth something, when everyone else seemed to understand that he really damn wasn’t. Normally, Bucky would be able to whack Sam and hiss a warning. But he couldn’t.

He literally, simply, couldn’t.

“Could’ve been worse, Buck,” Steve had said when they got on the jet, and Bucky had given him a look so flat Steve winced.

Real damn easy for Steve to say.

Because Steve hadn’t been sprayed in the face with a truth serum. Steve wasn’t locked in a plane with the love of his life, unable to speak out of fear he’d bark out his devotion for the whole sky to hear. Steve wasn’t trapped in his head with visions of just crossing the damn carrier, caging you between his arms, and kissing your pretty, slack face until you begged him to fuck you, right there on the floor.

That was a curse for Bucky, and Bucky alone.

Bucky towers over you, his massive chest consuming the light in the room. It gives him the impression of an angel, fallen from Heaven just to stand the edge of your mattress.

And if he’s something holy, it’s only right to sink to your knees.

“You want it, baby?” He murmurs, tracing the curve of your face, and you nod. You’re almost drooling. He pulls out his belt slowly, and you press your thighs together, shifting restlessly on the bed.

Bucky’s free hand fists in your hair, and you smile up at him, easy and hopeful. His tongue flicks over his lips. He pulls out his cock—thick and uncut and angry, proud in his fist and swollen red—and strokes it slowly, watching you with a quiet, hungry affection.

“Take it,” he orders, low and smooth. “’S all yours, baby. Just gotta take it.”

You nod nervously, rolling down to your stomach. Your feet kick behind you like a schoolgirl and Bucky’s smirks, petting your head and pressing his hips forward. You take his thick cock in your hand and stroke slowly, watching him twitch and flex under your light touch.

Bucky groans your name, and it rolls through the room. You get confident, and press a kiss to his throbbing head. He grunts, hips jerking forward, and you pump the base of his cock with a firm but gentle grip.

The sounds he makes are sinful. You take him fully in your mouth, and he’s thick and heady, all salt and a thick, perfect weight in your mouth. He tugs on your hair when you start to suck, bobbing your head up and down. You take his balls with your free hand and massage them, getting drunk on the way he hits the back of your throat, the way he calls your name, the pressure building between your legs as you choke on his massive cock.

You’re humping the sheets, bunched and sticky between your thighs. You’d start writhing, if you weren’t so focused on Bucky’s dick. He moans at the sight of you, desperate for any possible friction, and starts to fuck your mouth like you’re just a toy. You’re so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs, so wet you think you’re going to leave a stain on the mattress, and he fits in your mouth so well-

Your orgasm crashes through you, your cry muffled on the dildo you’d been fucking into your mouth. Your pussy flutters and gushes on your fingers, your hips twitching and eyes rolling back in your head. The thought of Bucky in your mouth rises like hot air, and carries you a little back over the edge. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut, and drift down with slow, uneven breaths.

The guilt is immediate. Hot and shameful in your stomach, mixed a little too close to your arousal to be normal. Bucky isn’t feeling well—he barely even spoke on the way back from the mission—and you’re in your room, jerking off to the thought of him like some pervert. He might be in pain. He might need something. Sam told you to go check that he was actually sleeping off the drug he got hit with, and you agreed to.

An hour ago.

You were supposed to check on him an hour ago, but instead, you fell into the sheets and touched yourself, because that’s all you really seem to be good at.

You’d had a similar fantasy on the mission itself, when Bucky had been stuck behind you. A vivid dream where you’d gotten brave and spun around. You’d kissed Bucky and he’d kissed you back. He’d pushed you to your knees and pressed his cock between your lips, coaxing them opening with promises that you’d be his good girl, if you just sucked his cock. You had, you’d taken him until you were so aroused you couldn’t think straight, and Bucky had to let you hump his boot to stop you from crying around his warm, heavy dick-

You’re doing it again. You’re fucking doing it again.

You splash cold water on your face and clean yourself up. This can’t be how you spend your whole night, when you’re supposed to be checking on Bucky. It takes a little too long, though, to get yourself out into the hall and walking to his room. You just keep getting caught in fantasies about him in the bathroom, coming up behind you while you put on your shoes, grabbing your face between his hands and pinning you to the door-

A sharp, mental slap over your cheek gets you out of it. You shake yourself and glare down the dark hall, trying to steel the pound of your hopeless, burning heart. This isn’t about you. It’s about Bucky, and the truth spray, and making sure he’s okay. You march down the hall like a soldier, too lost in your determination to remember to knock. You push on the door and slip forward, trying to be quiet in case he actually is sleeping, and almost fall to your knees.

Bucky is not sleeping. You can’t remember how to move.

It’s such a lewd, beautiful thing before you, you almost think you’re fantasizing again. Bucky lying flat on his bed, one hand flat on his bare chest, the other beating into his cock. It’s just like you imagined, right down to the veins and thick, perfect girth. You’re salivating like a dog, thinking about it being shoved between your lips, guided into your hand, driven so slowly into your pussy your eyes roll back and you can’t breathe around the stretch. Bucky would press down on your stomach and make you feel it a little more, it would twitch inside of you just like it’s jerking in his hand-

Bucky moans, and you bite back a whimper. You should go. He wouldn’t want you to see this, it’s invasive and wrong and inappropriate and so fucking hot-

He moans again, thicker and deeper. A strangled sound that almost sounds like your name. Your heart stutters, and Bucky’s hips slam up to meet his fist.

This time, the cry is definitely your name, and you can’t hold it back.

You whimper, and Bucky’s eyes shoot open.

For a second, you just stare at each other. Your face burns, and you cling to the door, an unbearable ache pooling in your core. Bucky gapes, his hand still moving, faster and faster. A low, rumbling groan escapes his mouth. You glance at his cock, and your knees almost buckle. Bucky rasps your name, still pumping his cock, and you look back with panicked, desperate eyes.

Bucky chokes out your name, and his cock jumps, releasing seeming to slam through his body. Thick, unending ropes of cum spurt over his fist and thighs. He strokes himself through it, the room filling with that sticky, perfect smell, and you’re not sure you’re breathing.

He won’t stop looking at you. He won’t stop moaning your name and cumming all over the bed, and you’d think this was a dream if you didn’t feel like you had a fever.

It stops after what feels like an hour, and Bucky tosses his head back with a grunt. He rubs a hand over his face, the column of his throat working, and you slowly close the door behind you, barely keeping yourself upright. Your tongue darts over your lips. You breathe through your nose, head spinning as you take him in. Powerful, tanned body, painting white and slick with cum and sweat, right in front of you, close enough you can almost taste it.

Bucky groans, and you flush under his gaze, boring into your lust blown features. When you meet his gaze, it’s dark. His face is red, and his chest muscles flex with ragged breaths, neither of you daring to move an inch.

His cock starts to harden again. You take in a sharp breath, and his hand flexes on his thigh.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he croaks, and you swallow.

You can’t. He’s not telling you to go, he’s not even trying to hide himself, and he was moaning your name-

“Doll, please-“

“Do you want me?”

Bucky’s whole body seizes up. He’s propped up on an elbow now, but he closes his eyes tight, his nostrils flaring and his jaw working tight enough to look painful.

He can’t lie. You can almost see the truth pushing itself up from his chest, a geyser that’s going to explode and take you both with it, because Bucky can’t lie.

“Don’t ask me that,” he rasps, and it’s almost a plea. “Don’t make me tell you no, honey-“

“So don’t tell me no,” you breathe. “Just- Tell me yes, Bucky, please.”

He shakes his head, watching you under lidded eyes. “It- It’s not that simple, okay-“

“Do you want me,” you say it firmer this time, even as you cling to the door. “Because I want you, Bucky, I- I want you so bad-“

“No- No.” Bucky gives you a stern look, and it makes your heart falter. “You don’t know what you want-“

“Yes, I do-“

“You think you do-“

“And you get to tell me I’m wrong?”

Your tone is harsh. Bucky flinches, avoiding your gaze, and your face burns. He can tell you no and you’ll leave, but he won’t. The heat makes you see, so painfully clear. Bucky isn’t going to tell you he doesn’t want you. But you’re not moving, until he tells you exactly where he wants you to go.

“It isn’t about me,” Bucky says your name, exhaustion lining his tone. “You deserve better. Better than this,” he waves a hand at his body, and you’d laugh if he didn’t sound like he was in pain. “Better than me- Just, fuckin’ better.”

You shake your head, your voice small. “You’re wrong. You- You’re so fucking wrong, Bucky.”

He laughs, dry and curt. “Oh, sweetheart, I can’t lie-“

“But you can be wrong,” you counter sharply, and he falls silent. “And I can be right. Do you-“ You take a slow breath, forcing yourself to hold his hooded gaze, the shine in his eyes sending a fresh pool of heat between your thighs. “Do you think I’m right?” 

Bucky’s throat bobs. His lips twitch, his tongue darting out and the corner of his mouth pressing into a pained frown. You can see him fighting it. Fighting everything you’re trying to give him, like it’s a gift he can just return, instead of a pure given. You’re not offering him something you had to work to find. Your need for him can’t be flushed away or forgotten like an ugly ornament on the self. It’s either just going to overgrow you like an untended garden, or be Bucky’s to nourish.

And you pray he nourishes it. That if he lets himself have one good thing, it’s this. Shame is nothing, if you get to pour it at Bucky’s feet for him to drink.

So you pray. And someone out there must owe you a favor, because Bucky nods.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and you think the world falls from under your feet. “Yeah, I- I think you’re right.”

You stumble standing. Bucky reaches out his warmer hand, his voice dropping to something low. Something sacred.

“C’mere.”    

It’s like floating. You move across the room without your feet feeling the ground, your fingers trembling as you reach out. Your fingers lace together, and you knees hit the mattress. Bucky tugs you over his naked body, forcing you to straddle his torso, your hands planting on either side of his head as he falls back. His cock drags on the inner edge of your thigh. He brushes hair out of your face with the most tender touch, before cupping the back of your neck. Your breath hitches. His mouth curves into a small, teasing smile.

“Too long,” he breathes, his metal hand dragging up your hips, massaging the curve of your ass. “Been waitin’ too fucking long.”

He drags his hand forward, letting his thumb trace the shape of your upper lip. You take in a sharp, nervous breath between your teeth, and his throat bobs.

“You want it?” He mutters, and you nod. “I’m not gonna be gentle, doll, you gotta be sure-“

“I’m sure,” you say without thought, and his fingers dig into the skin of your ass. “I- I’m so sure, Bucky, you have no idea-“

You cut yourself off with a squeak, as Bucky pushes his thumb into your mouth and shoves you fully down against his abs. You’d been hovering on your hands and knees, scared to add too much weight, scared that this was just another dream. Bucky forces you down to reality. To his hand gripping your jaw and the pad of his thumb, warm in your mouth. The heat and strength of him below, his cock bumping against your ass and his slick, hard stomach pressed against your core.

It’s embarrassing, how fast you let him take control. His thumb presses near the back of your throat, and you start to suck mindlessly, watching the awe and desire wash over his handsome features. You swirl your tongue the same way you’ve thought about sucking his cock, fisting the sheets under your hands and pressing over him until your breasts are almost presses against his collarbone. His throat bobs. His hand on your hip starts to guide you back and forth against his core, the pressure and friction making your eyes roll back in your head.

“You like that?” Bucky grunts, and you nod, rolling your hips faster and faster against his abs. “Can smell how wet you are, babydoll. I’ve barely fuckin’ touched you and you’re already soakin’ through your panties.”

You flush, but doesn’t stop moving. The condescending tone just rushes through you like a high and fuels the arousal coursing through your veins. You arch your back, trying to push your hips further down, to get just a little bit more.

“Look at you, sweet girl. Giving me a fucking show.” Bucky slaps your ass, and your eyes flutter. “Makin’ it so fucking easy for me. Humping me like a good little slut.”

You keen, collapsing over his chest as the heat takes over your body. Bucky’s thumb slips out from your lips, and he smears the spit over your cheek in a small, possessive gesture that makes your head spin.

“Think you can cum just like this?” He drawls in your ear, petting the top of your head. “Just fucking yourself on my body?”

“Ye- Yes-“ You breathe, turning your cheek so it’s pressed between his pecs. “Fuck, Buckyyyy- Fuuuck-“

Bucky grabs your chin mid moan, forcing your face up. His lips smash over yours in a hungry, bruising kiss, all spit and teeth and need. You cry out against his lips, kissing him back with every pent up, depraved little need you’ve ever had for him, every bit of adoration you’ve kept stuff in your chest for far, far too long. Your hips bounce against his abdomen, your shorts bunching up under his metal hand. Cold fingers graze near your pussy. You gasp against Bucky’s mouth, and he presses his tongue down your throat with a deep, hearty moan.

There’s a loud rip, and your shorts are torn off your body in one, clean movement. You mewl, pushing further back against Bucky’s hand, and his dick starts to slide between your ass cheeks, still wet from the drip of your last orgasm. Bucky’s hand slides back around to your neck, holding it hard enough to leave a print, and you moan into his mouth.

Two metal fingers dip into the heat of your pussy, and the temperature contrast makes your whole body shudder. You shove on Bucky’s shoulders, unsure what to do with your own body, and he grunts, tightening his hold around you.

You squeal, as he rolls you over.

“Bucky-“

“Shh,” he grunts, nipping at your lower lip, and you hum. It might not be good, how much control he already has over your body. Right now, you don’t really care.

It feels too good, the way his metal fingers rub the outside of your pussy lips, pressing them together while his palm grinds against your clit. You’re trapped between him and the mattress, your thin shirt the only barrier between your bodies, and Bucky seems determined to remove it. His lips wander down your neck and over your collar, sucking tiny lovebites and bruises over your skin. You wrap around his head, tugging at his hair, and he lets out a low, desperate groan against your skin.

His mouth moves lower. He rips off your shirt with the same, fluid motion, and your back arches up to meet his lips. Bucky mouths and kisses every inch of your breasts, swirling his tongue around a nipple while his palm rolls around your clit. Your breathing comes short and desperate, a tension building in your lower stomach, hot and humid like a summer storm. Bucky slips one finger between your swollen pussy lips and groans around your nipple, sending a little jolt of electricity straight to your cunt.

“All ready3 for me,” he groans, spreading your arousal around your sensitive inner thighs. “I’m gonna slide right in there, baby, shit-“

He drops his brow against your chest, watching his hand work against your cunt. You shudder, combing your fingers through his hair, trying not to lose yourself so fast.

“Always,” you manage to say. “Always for you, Bucky.”

He glances up, the lust in his eyes giving way to something darker. It’s like watching the moon shift. Something that’s always been there, shrouded and hidden from view, finally letting itself turn to the light.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, reverence lining his every word. “I know.”

You blink at him, eyes watering with desire. You’ve never been this close from so little, but it’s Bucky. And you can’t be expected to be anything more than putty in his arms.

“You need to cum?” He asks, mockingly sweet, and you babble out an agreement. “Oh, I know it’s hard, baby, but you gotta use your words-“

“Please,” you gasp, pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Please, Bucky, need- Need to cum so bad.”

Bucky smiles, and presses the lightest kiss to the space between your eyes. “Then cum.”

It’s quick. A snap at the base of your spine and a broken scream that falls from your lips. Your toes curl and your vision goes white, your pussy clenching around nothing and your body bucking off the bed. Bucky pushes down hard on your clit, forcing your hips back down to the bed. He silences your cries with kisses, squeezing your jaw with is free hand and dragging his lips over your drooling mouth, your flushed cheeks, your fluttering eyes.

His rests his lips against your ear and gives your raw cunt one, tight slap. You squeal in surprise, the feeling almost overwhelming in your sensitive body, and Bucky chuckles.

“Oh, now it’s too much?” He spanks your pussy again, and you let out a loud, pathetic whine. “You were all pretty and beggin’ for me a second ago, doll. Where’d that needy little slut go?”

Tears burn at your eyes, that shame mixing with arousal and making you all the more sensitive. Bucky spanks your pussy again, then rubs over the hurt. You grind up into the touch and he smirks, spanking you once more. You mewl, rolling around in his arms, unsure if you’re trying to chase him or get away.

“So fuckin’ reactive,” he rasps, almost in awe. “Look at you, better than a damn dream.”

You coo, twisting your face to press against his bicep. He noses at your cheek, lips brushing over your tears and parted lips.

“Been waitin’ so long, haven’t  you,” he murmurs. “Waiting for me to stuff up this sweet little cunt, waitin’ to be fucked stupid like the sweet little whore you are.”

You’re not trying to squirm anymore. You’re pressing your hips down, trying to hump his hand again, and Bucky laughs. He pushes your thighs apart with ease, exposing your oversensitive pussy to the cold air. Your eyes shoot open, and immediately trap on Bucky’s. An involuntary moan pulls itself from your chest, as his thumb circles around your clit.

“Think you deserve some dick, baby?” Bucky teases, flicking his thumb over the sensitive button. “After being so patient and good?”

You swallow, and shake your head. This is the kind of question that’s a trick. You’re going to be told to earn it, and you’re going to suck his cock until he’s had his fill, then maybe you’ll get another orgasm. In your fantasies, you’re usually limited to one overall, before you get too sensitive and the shame hits.

But Bucky smiles at  you like you’re the sweetest thing in the world, and bumps your noses together, gliding his metal thumb over your fluttering entrance.

“Wrong answer, babydoll,” he murmurs, kissing you between soft words. “You deserve the damn world.”

Bucky’s mouth slots over yours, and you lose yourself in the slow, easy kiss. He’s so gentle you forget about the pleasurable sting in your cunt, letting him overtake your senses, your thoughts, the very beat of your heart. He kisses you like you’re priceless, and you try to give him every moan and touch back. You dig your nails into his back and nip on his upper lip, and he grunts, pressing you further into the mattress. His thumb keeps circling around your cunt until it’s pounding and needy, but you only whimper into the kisses, worried to ask for more than he’s willing to give.

You should’ve known better.

Bucky’s nothing, if not generous.

His hand leaves your cunt, but you don’t get a second to protest before his cock is sliding between your folds, slicking him up to push inside of you. Your head falls back with a sharp gasp, and Bucky kisses over every inch of your skin he can seem to reach. The head of him presses against your clit before dragging away, leaving you throbbing and staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.   

Bucky notches himself at your entrance, and lets out a slow, sharp breath between his teeth. You’re clenching around him, unable to help it. He’s massive, and you’re open from the two orgasms, but you’ve also never been this wound up. You think Bucky could just blow on your pussy and make you cum again. Being impaled on that massive cock might make you pass out.

“Take it easy,” he warns, and you whimper.

“C- Can’t-“

“Yeah, you can.” Bucky pushes in, barely the tip, and your breath is knocked from your chest.

“Bucky-“

“I know,” he kisses away your cries, splaying his hand on your tummy, letting his thumb drag back around your overworked clit. “I know it’s big, baby. Feels like too much, doesn’t it. Pretty little cunt, not used to takin’ it like this.”

You nod, still trying to chase his lips. “So- So big,” you babble, and Bucky grunts, pushing a little further in.

“Biggest you’ve ever had?” He growls out the question, his cock bumping against every sensitive, wired spot inside of you.

“Ye- Yes,” you gasp out, and Bucky’s hips jerk further forward. “Oh my god, Bucky- Yes-“

Bucky moans, bottoming out deeper than you knew you could take. He presses his lips against your brow, his chest heaving and his hand on your stomach pushing down. The movement forces you to feel every ridge and bump of his cock, every twitch and drag with the rise and fall of his chest. It’s almost impossible to handle. You’re dripping and soaking his cock, getting more and more sensitive with every passing moment. The pain has long ebbed into mindless, easy pleasure. Bucky’s hand shifts, and pins your g-spot against his massive dick, and the tears return to your eyes.

You know Bucky’s trying to collect himself, but he’s taking so long. You scratch his back with trembling fingers, pinned on his cock with nowhere to go, trapped beneath his massive body with nothing to do but take it.

“Bucky,” you manage to breathe. “Please- Please move.”

Bucky grunts, his lips attaching to a pulse point on his neck. He starts to suckle, grinding shallow thrusts into your cunt, and you moan loud enough to echo through the room. You didn’t know something so small could work you up so fast. The short movements work you more and more open, all while bullying into your g-spot, over and over again. Bucky’s tongue flicks against your skin and you cry out, turning your face to try and hide it in the pillows.

That pushes something in Bucky. He grabs your jaw again and turns your face, dragging you into a deep, rough kiss. You keen, your scratches becoming longer, like you’re trying to claw your way into his body. Close isn’t close enough. It can’t be. Bucky starts to drag further out, pushing back in with a harsh snap of his hips, and you throw your head back with a loud, confident moan.

“That’s it,” Bucky grunts, setting an unforgiving, bed-creaking pace. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock so damn well.”

You roll your hips, trying to meet his thrusts. Bucky pushes his hand down further, forcing you to stay still, and your eyes roll back in your head with the force of each thrust. Bucky speaks against your lips, unable to help himself, but also unable to look away.

“You feel that, baby?” He angles up, letting his cock drag so slowly against your g-spot before delivering another, brutal thrust that makes you scream. “Feels so good, doesn’t it? Getting fucked like the perfect little doll I know wanna be, lettin’ me give this greedy little pussy exactly what it needs.”

You make a sound that’s supposed to be Bucky’s name, and he grunts, picking up the speed until your eyes begin to cross.

“Try again,” he snaps. “Use that pretty mouth, sweetheart, tell me what I wanna hear.”

You just moan, unable to get your mouth to agree with your head. Bucky buries himself deep and presses his whole weight down, not even giving you space to move. You sob, pressing your face into his shoulder, and he clicks his tongue.

“C’mon, baby,” he coos, teasing and cruel in the best possible way. “You can’t already be that dumb.”

You swallow, the pressure of Bucky’s cock inside of you driving every thought from your head. You don’t know how you cobble the words together, let alone find your voice. Not when he starts to grind again, angling his thighs so his balls press against your ass, his thumb teasing back over your clit.

“Please, Bucky,” you choke out, grabbing his hand near your head, giving him your most desperate, doe-eyed gaze. “Please.”

Bucky’s throat bobs. Every time you’ve hit the bottom of the shame well, you find more. But Bucky only looks at you like you’re beautiful. His cock twitches inside of you, and his controlled thrusts become jagged and sharp.

“Shit,” he grunts. “Shit- You’re fuckin’- Christ-“

You’re not sure what’s happening until he moves. Bucky grabs your knees and pushes them up to your chest, folding you neatly in half. The angle pushes his cock deeper, and he drags it out for a second, smearing it on your juices and tapping it against your clit. Your pussy clenches around nothing, cold and empty without him. He smirks and eases himself back in, slow and careful. You watch with an open mouth, as your pussy swallows up his cock. It’s the most obscene, beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Wet and messy, a ring of arousal at the base of his shaft, his muscles flexing with control that you can’t even think not to submit to.

“Eyes,” Bucky orders and you immediately obey.

That’s a mistake.

His gaze is intense. Unrelenting and adoring and mocking all at once. He grabs your jaw with a lighter hand than before, tapping your cheek gently. You open up quickly, and take his thumb back in your mouth like before. It helps, with the overwhelming pressure of his cock inside you. Bucky smirks, rolling his hips once, and you moan around his finger, sucking harder than before.

“There she is,” he coos, starting to slowly, torturously fuck into your cunt. “All cock drunk and stupid, you’d let me keep you like this forever, wouldn’t you. Just a sweet little fuck toy?”

You hum, your toes curling, the pleasure washing through you white and hot. Bucky groans, mesmerized by the sight of you taking his cock and finger at the same time, his thrusts becoming deeper, rougher, more desperate.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he grunts, the sound of your skin slapping over taking the room. “My perfect girl, most beautiful thing I’ve ever fuckin’ see, y’know that? God, you’re- Fuuuck-“

Bucky moans your name, his condescending praise falling off into broken grunts and groans. You smile at him, dazed and lost in the stretch of his cock, lighting up your every nerve, making your head spin until you’re just a drooling, giggly mess. Bucky stares at you with a hanging mouth, fucking into you like an animal, and a strange, wet pressure begins to pool in your tummy. You grab his wrist, your lips moving but no sound able to come out, and Bucky understands.

He spits on your clit, spanks it once, and doubles over with a final, brutal thrust. You cum with a silent scream of his name, flying off the bed and writhing in the sheets. It’s a pleasure so blinding you can’t see anything but stars, can’t feel anything but that odd heat gushing out of your pussy, over Bucky’s cock and down your thighs and onto the bed.

Bucky roars your name and starts to fuck you in brutal, rough strokes, like he didn’t expect himself to fall over the edge with you. You’re still squirting and trembling, when he starts to full up your cunt with thick, white ropes of cum. There’s so much of it that your eyes cross. You’ve never been this full and sensitive at the same time, you don’t even know what to do with yourself. A small aftershock of an orgasm pushes through your trembling body.

You think you pass out, the heat too much, your body overstimulated and worn out from being wrung with every bit of pleasure. You come to with Bucky between your thighs, kissing around your pussy, licking the mix of your releases with his warm, thick tongue. You moan softly, threading your fingers through his hair, and he smiles at you with shining eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your swollen clit.

Your hips jump, a whine escaping your throat, and Bucky chuckles.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, kissing the spot right over your pussy. “Couldn’t help it, baby.”

Baby.

The moment is over, and he’s still calling you baby.

Bucky cleans you up with gentle, careful hands. You watch him, propped up on your elbows and still a little dazed. He smiles and kisses your hip, then your navel. He’s massaging your thigh like this matters.

You can’t begin to say, how much you want this to matter.

Bucky brings you to the bathroom. He changes the sheets while you pee, then offers you a clean, warm shirt to replace the one he destroyed. It smells like him. Everything smells like him, and you never want it to fade.

He sits on the edge of his mattress, while you get changed. You slip out of the bathroom, hugging yourself tight and watching him stare at his hands. He drags his gaze up slowly, that adoration from before still shining in his eyes. You swallow. He licks his lips, flexing his hands on his thighs.

“I- Uh- I’m not good at talking about things,” he mutters, watching you carefully. “I’m workin’ on it, I promise. I’m even getting better. But- Doll, you- Me- That.” He nods back to the bed, his voice getting strained. You’re starting to worry about him. “Can’t lie, right?” He laughs weakly. “And that- It wasn’t- I mean- It was everything, so-“

You put him out of his misery.

You cross the room in two strides and take his face between your hands, kissing him long and slow. He grabs your hips and kisses you back immediately, craning his neck to try and deepen the angle. It’s loving, everything you never got to offer him in the heat of the moment. Every last drop of love you hadn’t gotten to show him, offered up like morning dew to the rising sun.

Bucky lets out a slow, ragged exhale, his eyes still shut when you pull away.

“You wanna take me out on a date?” You prompt softly, and Bucky immediately nods.

“Yes- Yes, please.”

You smile, and Bucky smiles back. He leans up for another kiss, and you let yourself melt over him. His fingers dig into your hips, and you know you’ll be covered in bruises come morning. Good. It’s proof that this really happened. That it wasn’t just all in your head.

Bucky’s really yours, and you’re never going to have a dream you can’t reach again.

✦End note: i hope you enjoyed the sequal !! ✦

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he’s the type you try to recruit for your security team, not the type you recruit for manners such as these, such as the ones you find yourself in. 

wandering hands up and down the sides of your dress, his featherlight touch making you shiver as your head leans back against his shoulder behind you. his heavy breath in your ear as he presses the bulge in his pants up against your ass, humming in approval as he feels you up. 

“you like that?” he mumbles against your ear, watching your facial expressions change as his hands continue moving to more dangerous territory. the condescending tone of his voice tells you he already knows the answer.

a soft moan falls from your lips, your eyes falling shut as his fingertips trace over the low-cut neckline of your dress. his fingers on your skin are a maddening tease of what you truly want from him, where you truly want to feel his fingers.

“what do you think?” you breathe softly in response, your head falling as your gaze finds where his hands rest on your breasts. his chest rumbles behind you as he chuckles ever so lowly. 

“doesn’t matter what I think, princess,” he goads as he chuckles. his hands fall from your chest to your hips as he grinds you back on him once, twice, before taking a step back. he leverages his grip on you to spin you around, forcing your eyes to meet his.

the massive hotel suite that you stand in the center of drifts out of his purview as he stares you down. black eyeliner painted over your lids, deep red lipstick painting your lips. your beautifully styled hair barely touched, still mostly intact. 

he wants to ruin all of it. he wants to see how much better you look with the red tinge messed all over the bottom of your face, smudged onto his own. how your eyes look red and wet after he’s had his fill, your hair undone from his own doing.

all of it from his own doing. unwinding the perfectly wound princess who shouldn’t even dare look his way. allowing him, nay, asking him to defile her. 

that’s all either of you want.

“Bucky,” you speak, and his eyes nearly go black at the sound of his name on your lips. 

before you can say another word, he speaks up. “why don’t you go ahead and kneel for me, sweetheart?”

he clocks the twinge of surprise in your eyes, the way you’re completely unprepared for the request so suddenly, before watching as the shock morphs into desire. excitement. a small smirk appears on his face as he unconsciously tilts his head ever so slightly at you. you want it equally as bad as he does.

you soon do as he’s requested, getting on your knees in front of him while maintaining eye contact as you do. his smirk never once falters and his cock twitches in his pants at the sight of you waiting for his next move.

he closes the small distance between you, tangling his hands in your hair and wrapping them both around the back of your head, trapping you in his hold. “I think you’re smart enough to know what happens next, princess,” he taunts. “you have any objections to that?”

you quickly shake your head no under his grasp while simultaneously trying to hide your own small smile. 

he chuckles at the sight. 

“good girl,” he says, and then he’s pulling you right up against him, pressing your face up against the rough fabric of his cargo pants covering his erection. you appear to inhale sharply with the action, and he allows himself the pleasure of rutting up against your face a few times even as the fabric separates you.

“you want the real thing?” he goads, and you nod. he clicks his tongue once again. “use your words,” he admonishes.

“yes, please,” you whimper, although the words are muffled as your lips remain pressed harshly against him. 

“go on, then.” 

with that permission, you hurriedly bring your hands to unbuckle the tactical belt that sits on his hips, unbuttoning his pants as quickly as possible. 

he’s most certainly not expecting it when you begin pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to his cock over the fabric of his boxers. 

“fuck,” he curses under his breath, watching with wide eyes as you worship his cock of your own volition. you, the most perfect woman in existence, treating him as though he’s worthy of your adoration. 

he grunts, growing impatient. desperate. 

“enough teasing,” he breathes. the effect you’re having on him is evident in his tone, and it does nothing but encourage you to continue. 

your manicured fingers begin peeling back the black boxers now stained with your saliva, and his cock springs free right in front of you. 

his tip is red, leaking, and practically begging for you to nurse from it. 

how are you to refuse? 

you lean in, his hands still softly holding your head as he allows you to take the lead. except he nearly cums on the spot when you begin placing delicate kisses up and down his length, continuing to torment him, continuing to push him past his limit. 

“you think this is funny?” he tries, yet the attempt at sounding commanding completely fails, his voice instead coming out broken and whiney. 

you pause your ministrations to look up at him, the look in your eyes one of pure innocence, before asking, “what are you going to do about it?” 

he snaps. 

before you can even blink, one of his hands has freed itself from its seat in your hair, reaching to stroke his cock a few times and begins feeding it to you, forcing himself down your throat as his hand on the back of your head forces you to stay in place. 

“not so funny now, are you, princess?” he says with fake sympathy in his voice.

by now, your hair is ruined from his hold on your head. your lipstick is smeared all over your face, and now, the length of his cock up to the base of his abdomen where he holds you against him. 

and now, those beautiful tears have begun forming in your eyes, smearing your makeup and creating little trails down the sides of your cheeks as they fall. 

“so pretty,” he whispers, wiping a tear from your cheek as he looks into your beautiful watery eyes. “you look so much prettier like this than you did before me. and you looked fucking stunning all done up, you know.” 

you feel his words between your legs and in your chest, pulling at your heart even as you feel more turned on than you’ve ever been. 

your breaths are rough and shaky as you struggle against him, but he doesn’t let go of you as he continues speaking. continues to torment you the way you did to him.

“can’t believe you got down on your knees for a man as dirty as me. wonder what your rich little friends would think if they could see you now,” he blathers on. his thumb brushes softly over your cheek as he finishes, “but, no. I wouldn’t share this beautiful sight with a soul.” 

a few long seconds later, he finally lets up on his grip and allows you to take a stark deep breath before beginning to use your mouth for his own pleasure. 

“that’s right. that’s a good girl,” he praises as he fucks your face with abandon. “my perfect little princess.” 

it doesn’t take him long before he’s on edge, his balls heavy and begging for release in your warm hole. 

“you gonna let me come down your throat? or are you too good for that, hmm?” he questions, letting go of his hold on you for just a few moments. 

your choice to continue fucking yourself on his cock is all the answer he needs. 

with a loud groan, he finally lets go, holding you against him and watching as you struggle to swallow as he blesses you with his massive load. 

he lets go, and you crumple in on yourself on the floor, devolving into a coughing mess in front of him. 

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck–

he doesn’t hesitate to bend over and help you to your feet, dragging you to the bed and setting you down to allow you to compose yourself. yet you don’t let him go far, grabbing onto his forearm as you cough, refusing to allow him to step out of your reach.

“your turn,” you tease with a hoarse voice as you begin to lay back on the sheets, yanking him down with you. 

as his weight covers you, he looks you up and down, assessing how perfect you look beneath him. feeling how hard he gets not long after his first release, all from the sight of you splayed out in bed under him.

“you sure?” he tries, but the words are cut off as you pull him in to kiss you. 

he didn’t think you would let him kiss you. putting his cock in your mouth, sure. putting his fingers on your skin, pressing them to your clit, and pushing you over the edge, sure. 

he assumed you would draw the line here. the reminder of the difference between the two of you; the reminder that no matter how you let him objectify you in bed, you’re still you and he’s still nothing. 

but fuck, even with his release still on your lips, you taste like perfection.

he can’t help but give into you, kissing you back with fervor as he holds you tightly against him, your bodies pressed so close together you’d think you were one. 

that’s what he hopes for as he begins hiking your dress up your thighs, as his fingers find their way to the sensitive skin of your cunt. he wants to feel like you’re one when he finally feels you gasp against him upon his finding of your clit, upon beginning to rub soft circles against you and making you feel as good as he made you feel. 

“no,” you whine, and he almost freaks, pulling his fingers away from you without another thought. “no, need… need you to fuck me.” 

he scoffs a little. “it’ll hurt if you don’t let me–”

“would you shut up and fuck me?”

no way he would protest that offer.

his hands roughly shove your thighs apart, glancing down at the heels that have still managed to stay attached to your feet. 

“wanna feel those digging into me,” he encourages you. “better leave me bleeding.” 

you smile at him when he says that.

not a smirk, not a tease. a real smile. 

it nearly rips his heart down the center. 

“yes, Bucky,” you breathe, and he doesn’t wait another second as he leans into you, lining himself up with your weeping entrance, begging for him to find his home inside you. 

within seconds, he’s addicted. addicted to the way you feel, the way you sound, the way you look taking his cock so well. 

“pussy’s so tight, doll,” he moans, his New York accent growing thicker with each word. “sure you can handle me?” 

“jus— just, please,” you begin to beg as he continues to sheath himself inside you. 

“aww, you going dumb on my cock, princess?” he taunts. “you like letting me fuck you stupid?” 

you fail to respond with words, your head falling back against the pillow beneath you as your jaw drops open. he’s finally fully inside you, filling you beyond what you ever thought imaginable. 

“look at ya. such a perfect little princess for me,” he blabbers as his mouth begins running away from him. his hips start to move against yours, slow and shallow thrusts quickly giving way to rougher movements more like you’ve been waiting for. “such a sweet pussy you’ve got. fucking unbelievable… been waiting for the day you’d let me fuck you, princess. gonna let me have you again? you gonna tell me the next time you need fucked, let me take care of ya?”

“yes, yes, yes,” you begin moaning in tandem with each of his movements.

“can you say my name real pretty, sweetheart?” he requests. he watches your face, monitoring every little reaction he manages to push out of you as his hips rut against yours.

“Bucky,” you moan.

“who’s giving it to you real good?” 

“Bucky, please,” you whine, pleading with him. 

he knows what you want. he knows he should tease you some more, get you to beg some more. whatever you say in the heat of the moment is just that; the heat of the moment. whether you’re ever going to deign to let him touch you ever again, he’s not sure. he should drag this moment out as much as possible. 

but he can’t possibly deny you, his sweet little princess, any longer. even if that means it’s over for good.

“alright, go ahead,” he says, his voice suddenly softening as he presses his thumb to your clit once more. “whenever you’re ready, princess.”

just as he expected, it’s the sweetest sight. your swollen red lips parting, your eyes rolling back in your head, all while your cunt squeezes the life out of him and your heels dig deep into his back.

good girl, he says to himself, listening so well. 

the orgasm you have on his cock is blinding. every muscle in your body contracts and releases as you ride out your pleasure, his body unable to hold back anymore as his own orgasm follows. the warmth of his release fills your belly as you begin to come down from the high. 

he wants nothing more than to collapse on top of you, to wrap his arms around you and hold you tight. as though he could ever call you his. 

but he’s not worthy of that, just as he’s not worthy of you. 

he never will be.

so instead, he pushes himself away from you and lies down beside you in the sheets of your hotel room that you’ve so graciously invited him into. you don’t waste any time before standing, kicking off your shoes and walking to the table on the other side of the room to pick up your phone, staring down at the screen and not looking back at him once. 

“thank you, princess,” he murmurs as he stares at you with the same intensity of which you stare at your phone.

“you don’t need to thank me, Bucky,” you scoff, and yet you still don’t look up at him. 

he certainly feels the need to. he certainly feels the need to thank you, to show you his gratefulness for allowing him to have the chance to finally have you, even just once. 

because the way you look at him once all is said and done, the same way you do when the sun is shining, reminds him of his place and reminds him that you’re more than he could ever deserve.

and yet, even still, when he looks at you?

when he thinks about how different everything could be, pondering living in an alternate universe where he did deserve you? 

there’s nothing he’d change. 

✦ masterlist ✦

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He always stares at you. It doesn’t matter if you’re hanging out at Steve’s place—technically Bucky’s place as well, but you refuse to give him any sort of credit about that—or getting coffee, or at the movies, or here, in another bar on a Friday night, trying to wash the week down with a drink, Bucky stares at you like he’s trying to kill you. It’s the kind of stare you’d find creepy from anyone else. A knit brow and heavy breathing, like just the sight of you makes him want to rip his head off. You glare back when you can, but tonight, you’re determined to ignore it. Ignore him.

Bucky can be as pretty and charming as he wants, he’s not getting a rise out of you. Not one that he can see, at least. When you got to the bar, he drawled your name and teased you about your drink, but you just grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and dragged him across the room without a look over your shoulder.

Maybe one look.

One look that Brock didn’t have to see, because he’s always accusing you and Bucky of having something. You’ve tried to explain to him that whatever something he thinks exists between you and Barnes is just the negative space of pure fucking loathing, but he doesn’t listen. He never listens.

“Barnes wants to fuck you,” he’d muttered last week, after you got home, and you’d rolled your eyes.

“Bucky does not want to fuck me, he can barely stand to be in the same room as me-“

“Because he wants to fuck you,” Brock has snapped. “I don’t want you hanging around him alone.”

You’d scoffed. “That’s- We’re friends-“

“Thought he hated you-“

“He does. But- It’s complicated.”

And it was. Bucky was Steve’s best friend, and Steve was your work husband, and Natasha was your best friend, and Steve’s actual girlfriend, and Bucky’s work wife, and Sam was Bucky’s other best friend and work husband, and your best friend—you’d even lived together, in college, which Brock never seemed to understand the concept of—and Steve’s business partner, which made him your boss, but you Nat’s and Bucky’s  boss, and it was a tangled mess of relationships and years of history that became impossible to unweave. You and Bucky were friends because if you weren’t, you were enemies, and that always hurt right under your ribs in a way you never wanted to acknowledge.

Bucky wasn’t a bad guy. He was a stubborn ass sometimes, and he stared a lot, and got kind of judgey about stupid things, but so did you. The first time you met, you’d just stared at each other for—according to Natasha—five straight minutes. Once you’d been at some stupid charity gala, and you’d spent the whole time gossiping in the corner about the old, rich assholes who needed a party to give their endless money to a good cause. You’d thought that you were friends. Really friends. Friends that could’ve been something more, if he’d asked you to be.

But he hadn’t. He never had. And you’d started to butt heads more, and he didn’t ask if you were good like he used to. He avoided you at the stupid parties and didn’t ask your opinion about small things. He didn’t wait for you to go to lunch, or sit with you when you had to stay late, and suddenly the friendship had slipped through your fingers, because it had been so fast you hadn’t been given time to realize you were supposed to hold on.

Some days you wonder what you did, and you want to strangle the answer out of his pretty, thick head. You thought you’d been good. You’d really thought you’d been good, and then he’d just gone and decided that you weren’t. That there was something about you he just couldn’t stand, and you never get to know what it was.

So if he wanted to play the hating game, you’d play it, and you’d win. You ignored him almost every day, only sneering back when you had a comment that you knew would land like a headshot.

“You look comfortable,” he’d muttered last week at Nat’s, and you’d shot him a glare.

Bucky’s mouth had twitched, as you’d just stared at him. He always seemed to enjoy making you want to kill him. You hope he also enjoyed it, when you actually killed him.

“No boyfriend tonight, huh?” He’d smirked, and you swallowed on your venom. “What, he off fucking strippers again?”

Your lip had curled. You’d just kept glaring, and Bucky had laughed.

“Don’t give me that look, doll. It’s not your fault you can’t keep him satisfied-“

“I keep him satisfied,” you’d snapped, your patience finally fraying.

And Bucky had given you a strange, tired look. It was sharp around the edges, but dull everywhere else. Almost cold. Almost exhausted.

“I bet you do,” he’d muttered, and you’d snapped.

“At least I have someone to satisfy, Barnes,” you’d hissed. “No one can even put up with you for a one night stand.”

Bucky had flinched, and the knot in your gut had been immediate. You told yourself you liked the second his armor shattered slightly. You liked the win. You told yourself over and over, that it was fine, because he struck first.

But your body hadn’t learned the lesson. And it felt wrong to be in your skin, whenever Bucky made that broken, vulnerable face. Like he’d almost forgotten how cruel you could be. Like he’d cared at all, that you’d struck back.

He didn’t. You reminded yourself that he didn’t. It was complicated, because it needed to be, for the sake of explaining to Brock. But to you, it was really, painfully simple.

You’d been in a small, blooming love with Bucky. He’d recoiled and poured hatred on you like pesticide, and your loved had curled and shriveled, but never fully died. You think there might be something wrong with you, that you can harbor feelings for a man who brings you nothing but storms. You gave up on trying to understand it a long time ago. Maybe, one day, you’ll tell your therapist. You’re really hoping the love just dies first. It’s humiliating enough to feel it, let alone say it aloud.

Brock demanded he come with you tonight. To keep an eye on Barnes. You didn’t fight him, because fights with Brock aren’t something you win. He was a relationship you started before Bucky, that had been on and off and on and off for years. In the sacred months where Bucky had liked you, Brock had been off on some work trip in Germany. He’d gotten back right when Bucky had decided to hate you, and you’d been a raw, vulnerable creature, just crawling on the beach for a new shell to call home. Brock had been there. He’d been a tight fight, and the love you’d felt for him had soured from the joy of Bucky, but you’d just needed something. And Brock had been asking you to be exclusive for years. So you’d finally just… given in.

It’s not a dream relationship. Sometimes you worry you’re going to marry him and have his babies, and he’d make such ugly babies. You don’t want them. You don’t really see another way.

You wouldn’t mind having Bucky’s babies. That’s not a very productive thought to have.

“He always stare this much?” Brock asks, and you shrug.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Yeah?” Brock snaps. “Or maybe. Can’t be both, sweetheart.”

“Yeah and maybe,” you mutter. “I don’t know.”

“Either he stares or he doesn’t-“

“He stares, I just don’t know what’s this much-“

“Then you should start paying fucking attention.”

You sigh, and give Brock a tight smile. His lip curls, and his eyes narrow, and you fight the urge to flinch away.

Bucky hates you. Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to like you all that much either. He won’t let Nat sit with you, and he certainly won’t let Sam sit with you, so now you’re just fucking here. At the crowded bar, all but alone, even with half a dozen worried or hateful eyes on you. You only give yourself eyes for your drink.

At least you have your drink.

You’re smiling. Laughing. Lighting up the whole bar from your little corner, and Bucky’s stuck over here in the dark.

He wants to drink until he can’t anything but your face and a whole blur of colors, but he got stuck being one of the drivers. He wants to go over and sock your stupid boyfriend in the face, but that would lead to a bigger conversation he knows you don’t want to have. This is a grave he dug for himself, but it didn’t even work right. He was supposed to bury himself alive and forget about you, high above him, brighter than the sun and prettier than the sky.

Instead he’s just lying in the dirt, six feet down, only able to watch you orbit around him like an angel. It’s hell. It’s torture. It’s exactly what he fucking deserves.

“You’re sulking again,” Steve says casually, and Bucky grunts.

“So?”

“It’s bringing everyone down, Buck-“

“They’re fine.”

Steve sighs. He does that a lot, when it comes to you and Bucky. He sighed when Bucky told him that he’d fallen in love with you. He sighed when Bucky decided you deserved better and started to push you away. He sighed when Bucky would lock himself on the fire escape for hours after parties, smoking and staring out at the city skyline until the wind was threatening to bite his skin off, and he had to be dragged inside.

Bucky knows Steve thinks he’s an idiot. Hell, most days Bucky thinks he’s an idiot. There isn’t a moment that passes where he doesn’t want to go back and suck up the fear, take the gamble, and just tell you he’d fallen for you. Hard enough to break the sound barrier, hard enough to snap him in half before he even hit the bottom, hard enough that he was never going to be able to climb his way back up. But he’s a veteran with a missing arm and a pile of baggage he can’t even shoulder some days. You’d looked at him like he was something good. You’d looked at him like you thought it could’ve been easy, to fall right back.

And Bucky couldn’t have that.

The only thing worse than never having you would’ve been having you, and breaking you. Letting you down. Letting you love him, then letting you realize how wrong you were, to bother to try. So he’d pushed you away.

Steve said that didn’t give him the right to sulk about it all the time. Steve was probably right, but Bucky sulked anyway. It was all he had, now.

That, and hating your stupid fucking boyfriend.

Brock. Dumb name. Sounded like rock. Bucky had a better name. He’d even let you call him James, like you used to. You’re the only person that ever made Bucky sound like an insult instead of a marker of affection. He wants to go back to being James, just for you. But he can’t. Because of Brock.

“What does she even see in him,” he mutters, and Steve sighs. Again.

“I don’t know, but-“

“He’s not that good looking,” Bucky narrows his eyes at Brock. Leaning over the table. Grabbing your arm. Bucky should be the one touching you. “His dick is probably small.”

“I- Uh- Yeah, sure-“

“She deserves better-“

“Better like you?”

That makes Bucky’s head snap to the side. Steve doesn’t even blink, his brows raised in almost mocking gentleness. It pisses Bucky off sometimes, how he’s not allowed to be pissed at Steve.

“You know she’s with him because he asked her, right?” Steve says, and Bucky scowls.

“That’s not- I- He doesn’t treat her right-“

“And you do?”

Bucky tastes bile. Steve still doesn’t back down, just giving Bucky that sympathetic puppy look, and Bucky wonders if he digs himself another foot down, Steve will do him a favor and bury him alive.

“You could just- Talk to her,” Steve murmurs, and Bucky snorts.

“She doesn’t care what I gotta say, Stevie-“

“Because you made her think you don’t care at all.”

“I don’t care,” Bucky snaps, louder than he means to, and Steve gives him an unimpressed look. Bucky scowls and turns back to his drink. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a thing-“

“You’re thinkin’. I can hear it.”

Steve sighs. Bucky’s going to shove a fist into his mouth, to get him to stop. “I’m just saying, Buck,” Steve murmurs. “Nat thought she was finally going to get over Brock. Before you decided to be an ass to her all the time.”

Bucky scoffs, then pauses. He didn’t actually understand what that meant. It sounded like it meant something important, something he was really supposed to understand, but for the life of him, he can’t work out why. He turns back to Steve with a frown, ready to ask what the hell that meant, but the words are drowned in aloud smash from across the bar.

Bucky’s attention snaps to the side in a second, his body realizing what’s happening before his brain. He’s on his feet when Brock shouts at you, and walking when you shove Brock. He almost breaks into a sprint, when he sees Brock’s hand curl into a fist. It only gets slammed on the table, but Bucky’s heart still threatens to burst through his throat. The bar is crowded. Too crowded. It’s taking him too long to get to you, and Brock shouts something, and you scream something back, and some lady tries to grab Bucky to flirt, but he shoulders her off.

He almost loses you in the chaos. A door slams, and he’s not sure if it’s you or Brock. He looks around for Nat—wherever you went, she’ll be there too—but can’t find her. He stumbles to the table, and his mouth goes dry.

You’re not hurt, but you’re crying. You’re crouching against the wall, Nat petting your head and trying to calm you down. Brock is nowhere to be found. Smart move, Bucky thinks. He was seconds from getting his face knocked in.

“What the hell happened?” He grunts to Nat, kneeling in front of you.

She shakes her head, lips in a thin line. “I’m not sure. They started fighting, Brock smashed a glass, then just- Fucked off, I guess.”

“What’d they fight about-“

“She won’t tell me,” Nat sighs, and you glare at her under gorgeous, wet lashes.

“I’m right here,” you snap, and Nat gives you an apologetic smile.

“I know, but- You won’t tell me.”

You sniff, glancing over to Bucky, then down to the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you mutter, and Nat murmurs your name.

“Was it-“

“Yeah.”

Nat scowls, and Bucky feels like he’s being left out of something.

“Nat, I-“ You grab her wrist, voice small and pleading. “I just want to go home.”

Natasha’s throat bobs, but she nods. Bucky frowns. Nat’s been drinking. Everyone’s been drinking except you and him, and he doesn’t think you should be driving when you can’t even get off the floor.

“I’ll take her,” he mutters, and you shoot him a poisoned glare.

“No.”

“Listen, kid, I’m offering to help-“

“I don’t want your help,” you sneer, and Bucky sighs. He deserves that. He knows he does. Doesn’t make it any easier or sweeter to swallow.

Natasha mutters your name, watching Bucky from the corner of her eye. “It’s either him, or an uber-“

“Uber,” you say immediately, and Nat gives you a flat look.

“That wasn’t a real option. You’re going with Bucky.”

You pout, inching away from him, and Bucky’s face burns. He stares at his hands, trying to pretend he can’t hear your whispers. Trying to pretend they don’t cut into a sensitive, raw, needy part of his heart that no amount of self-inflicted burns has ever been able to steel.

“I don’t want to go with Bucky,” you hiss at Nat, and Nat just shrugs.

“I don’t want you to be alone right now-“

“Then you get in the Uber with me.” Your voice is small. Almost pleading. It breaks Bucky’s heart.

Nat shakes her head, voice gentle, as if you’re a wounded animal. “Bucky will drop you at my place, alright? I just have to take care of something first.”

Your nose wrinkles, but you agree. Bucky doesn’t think you’re happy about it. He can almost feel the disdain emitting from your body like radiation, as Nat helps you to Bucky’s car. He decides not to tell you that Nat’s thing is probably hunting down Brock and killing him. Bucky would join her, if he didn’t have to deal with you. He doesn’t think there’s anything more noble. His worry is devotion. It’s a shame you’re blinder than a real god, to see it.

The drive is dead quiet. Bucky glances at the radio every few minutes, but loses the debate with him over and over to turn it on. He doesn’t want you to hate his taste in music.

You curl up against the window, as far away from him as you can get without jumping onto the freeway. Bucky drums his fingers on the wheel to fill the silence. Your breathing has steadied from short, shallow gasps, but he can still hear you sniffle every few seconds. It makes his vision line with red, and he knows he’s the worst kind of hypocrite, but knowing never helped anyone. He doesn’t understand, how Brock could treat you so horribly. He doesn’t understand how you—beautiful, smart, sweet but unwavering and sharp—could tolerate it.

Bucky parks the car outside of Nat’s. You don’t move, and he wishes he could build the anger to make you. But you smell like vanilla and something summery, and you look like an angel in the streetlights, and all he can feel is bubbling red and green. It spills out of his mouth like vomit, before he can garner the will and kindness to shove it down.

“What do you see in him,” Bucky mutters, and you look over with a frown.

You stare at him. Bucky stares back. He loves it when you do that. It’s a little off-putting, but he thinks he can tell you the truth with his eyes. He’s not sure, though, if you ever see it.

“He’s good to me,” you mutter finally, and Bucky snorts. “He is, don’t- Don’t fucking make that face-“

“I’m not makin’ a face-“

“You are,” you point at him, eyes narrowed, voice cold. “He is good to me, Bucky.”

Bucky raises his brows. It only seems to work you up more.

“Fuck you,” you spit. “Brock loves me, he- He’s- You just don’t see the side of him that I do-“

“I don’t think he’s got enough sides to hide anything, doll,” Bucky drawls, and you scowl.

“You’re just jealous.”

Bucky recoils, fingers tightening on the wheel. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he grunts, and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off, it’s so obvious-“

Bucky mutters your name in warning, but you just keep going.

“You’re jealous that someone like me could have a partner that loves them, when you’re alone. But guess what, Bucky,” you lean forward, words spitting over Bucky’s slack face. “You’re going to die alone, and I’m not, so fuck you.”

You push the door open, and storm out onto the street. Bucky’s frozen in the drivers seat for a second, a faint ringing in his ears. You’re right. You’re right, and it’s his fault. Not about Brock—that piece of shit isn’t capable of love, even for someone as perfect as you—but- But-

He’s moving before he can think about why. Shoving his way out of the car and shouting your name, chasing you up the sidewalk like a madman. You ignore him. Of course you do. It’s what he’s fucking earned.

“Just- Wait-“ He catches your wrist. You yank it away.

“Leave me alone, Bucky-“

“No, I got somethin’ I wanna say-“

“Well I don’t want to hear it-“

“I know, I know, just-“

“No!” You scream, round on him with a pointed finger, and Bucky feels something split right down his chest at the tears in your eyes. “No, I don’t want to fucking- I- You don’t get to tell me anything about- About anything. This is your fault, your-“

You cut yourself off, and Bucky blinks, leaning back. “My fault?” He laughs in disbelief, when you nod, not meeting his eyes. “How the hell is it my fault?”

You wrap your arms over your stomach, gaze fixed firmly on your shoes. “Brock thinks you want to fuck me,” you mumble, and Bucky’s heart falters in his chest. “That’s what the- The stupid fight way about, alright? And he thinks I shouldn’t be around you anymore, because of it.”

Bucky gapes at you. He’s trying to think of a way to ask that isn’t selfish. He can’t come up with it. “But you’re not going to listen to him, right?”

You shrug. “It’s not like you like being around me,” you mumble, and Bucky’s hands fists.

“That’s not the fuckin’ point, doll-“

“Isn’t it?” You give him a tired look. “Don’t you want me to just- Just go away? Aren’t you fucking happy, that you’re never going to have to deal with me again?”

Bucky’s throat his too tight to speak. This is a walking nightmare, but he can’t seem to wake up. You’re right. This is the part he’s supposed to want, where you bury him and he never has to see you’re beauty and wonder what if. But he’s selfish. He’s too fucking selfish, and he doesn’t want the sun to go away. He can’t lose you. Not like this, not when you seem to have halfway lost yourself.

You give him a prompting glare, tipping up your chin when he’s been silent too long. He swallows. His fingers flex, and he works his jaw until he can speak.

“Don’t,” he rasps, watching you under hooded eyes. “Don’t go away.”

You laugh, but it doesn’t sound read. “Don’t do that, Bucky, don’t act like you care-“

“I do care-“

“No.” You point at him, face tight. “No, you don’t- You don’t-“

Bucky catches your hand, and you immediately go quiet. He takes a small step forward. You don’t take a step back.

“I care,” he croaks, squeezing your hand once. “I care, doll. I- I’ve always cared, I-“

He moves to his knees. You stare down at him, like you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. Bucky doesn’t need you to do anything. He only prays at the only alter he knows—your feet—that you’ll listen.

“I love you,” he whispers, and your mouth falls open.

“Bucky…”

“I know I’ve been a dick,” he rasps. “I know, and I- I don’t expect you to forgive me, or say anything back. If you wanna slap me, I’ll let you. I’ll let you do anything, doll, just- Please don’t listen to him.” Bucky swallows, daring to wrap a hand around the back of your thighs, silently begging you to stay. “If he’s told you no one else is gonna love you, he’s dead wrong. If you’re letting him tell you what to do ‘cause you think it’s the only way to make him stay, let him fucking leave. You deserve better. You’ve always deserved better. Than-“ His words catch, painful in his throat. “Than me. But also than him. You deserve better.”

He digs his fingers into your soft skin, and you swallow, blinking down at him with soft, glossy eyes.

“I love you,” Bucky echoes like a prayer. “I swear I love you, doll. And I really don’t expect nothing, but- Please.”

You straighten up, and Bucky tries not to flinch when you cup his cheek. Your hand is so warm, so soft. He doesn’t deserve the touch.

“Bucky,” you murmur. “Stand up.”

He blinks at you, then scrambles to his feet. Your mouth twitches. He thinks that’s a good sign.

You stand barely an inch apart, staring into each others eyes. Bucky lets every bit of himself crumble away, until the only thing left for you to see is his love. You let out a sharp breath, and glance to his parted lips.

“You mean it?” You whisper, and he nods in a heartbeat.

“With everything I got.”

You laugh, soft and nervous, and meet his gaze again. “But- You were such an asshole- I thought you hated me.”

“Never,” he whispers. “I- I mean- I was an asshole, but I never hated you doll, ever. I just- I kinda loved you too much, and I’m an idiot-“

Bucky’s voice dies easily, when you push up and press a small kiss to his lips. His hands twitch to catch you, but he holds them back. Not daring to move. Not daring to let this fall apart. Your lips are so soft, and you taste like that sugary drink you’d been nursing, and he thinks he might have just taken a hit of a drug he’s never going to kick.

He’s panting, when you pull away. You smile at him, shy and gorgeous, brows raised in challenge, and he laughs like a ruined man. He dives back down, grabbing your face between his hands and kissing you hard. Kissing you the way he dreamed, your lips molding together and body arching up to his touch, your tongue darting over his lip before he squeezes your jaw, and you open for him with a moan.  He chuckles and spits into your mouth, wrapping an arm around your waist. You scratch his neck and press back with twice the force, dragging a low groan from his chest.

Bucky yanks himself back, and you stare at each other, flushed and panting. You find it in you to speak first. Bucky’s not surprised.

“You love me?” You demand, and he nods.

“All the time.”

You nod, and he thinks he’s got the kind of luck they talk about in kings.

“Good,” you mutter, straightening the collar of his shirt before fixing him with that enchanting, dangerous stare. “Prove it.”

Bucky smiles, and presses a harsh but loving kiss to your lips. You really have no fucking idea.

Proving it is going to be the easy part.

You’ve had dreams about this. So many dreams that living through it takes a lot of convincing, for you to believe it’s reality. You think, through the power of Bucky’s hands and lips, you’re going to get there.

You kissed and stumbled into Nat’s house with your hands roaming and feet tripping over everything but each other. Bucky had ripped your shirt over your head and kicked the door behind him, letting his searing mouth wander over your jaw, your cheeks, your nose and back to your lips. You’d pulled the buckle of his jeans while he made quick work of your bra, using the straps to pull you right back against his chest before tossing it the same way as your shirt.

“Look at you,” he’d muttered, palming your breast with an air of awe to his every word. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

You’d flushed and kissed him before he could say any more nice things. They were already making your heart soft and prone to forgiveness. The kind you were trying to make him earn, even if he was probably about to get it for free.

Bucky slid his hand around the back of your neck and kissed you like it was a movie. You’d melted into him, clinging to the hooks of his jeans and letting him angle your face further back. You’d tugged him closer and he’d grunted, wrapping his full bicep around your neck and sliding his hand on your breast down your side. He’d cupped your ass and squeezed it before dipping his fingers under your waistband, pulling it back and forth as he dragged his tongue over your lower lip.

“Wanna take care of you,” he’d muttered, like he was speaking to himself. “You gonna let me take care of you?

“Ye- Yeah,” you breathe, nails digging into his wrist. You’re trying to stay steady. You’re not sure it’s working, with how the room is spinning and your skin is getting heated. “Yes, please.”

Bucky chuckles, dragging his thumb over your lower lip. Your mouth falls open with a tiny gasp, and his brows furrow tight. He slides the pad of his finger between your lips, and you flick your tongue against it. Your eyes droop, and your head tips back as you start to suck on him. Bucky groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Jesus,” he rasps. “Always knew you’d be the death of me, doll.”

You coo, and Bucky’s nostrils flare. His hand drifts further down your back, hooking on your bottoms and pulling them with him. You make another soft, humming sound, smiling at him around his thumb, and his throat bobs.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “Just like that, nice and easy.”

Your bottoms fall to the floor, leaving you in only your panties. Bucky glances down, his tongue darting over his lips, and then looks right back to you. He pulls his thumb away, cups the back of your head, and pulls your face back for him to kiss. You moan against his mouth and he groans, pressing over you until there’s no space for anything else left. It’s all just Bucky, everywhere around you and so warm you start to get dizzy. You almost don’t know what to do with yourself, yanking at his shirt and trying to meet every kiss, but it’s hard. Bucky’s demanding, and you’ve wanted this for too long. Just his hands on your bare skin are better than anyone else being inside of you. It’s really unfair.

Bucky cups your pussy when your back hits the wall, and you mewl. He leans back to watch your hips roll against his hand, his eyes going fully dark and a low, rumbling grunt falling from his lips.

“Fuck, baby,” he rubs his hand back and forth, a sweet, lewd sound filling the room. “This wet, just for me?”

You nod a little shamefully, watching him under fluttering lashes. He pulls on the fabric of your panties and snaps it against your cunt, making you buck up with a squeak. Bucky chuckles and rubs over the hurt, leaning down until your lips are brushing together.

“You want me to play nice?” He whispers. “Or fuck you like I’ve been dreamin’ about.”

You blink at him, mouth hanging open and face burning. It’s hard to think, with the drag of his rough, gentle hand against your cunt. For a little while you just stare at him helplessly, and Bucky takes a small mercy, snapping your panties back against your pussy, shocking your heartbeat enough to make you think.

Like he’s been dreaming. You’ve been dreaming too. Holding fantasies about Bucky giving it to you just how you want, walking that thin line you never trusted Brock to balance on. But you trust Bucky. Your Bucky, before the whole mess. The Bucky you can see so clearly now, features shining with affection as he watches you already start to come apart.

“That,” you say, small but certain. “Do- Do it like that.”

Bucky pauses. “Like-“

“How you want,” you whisper, and he goes still.

Bucky scans over your face for an ounce of hesitation. You don’t have any, so you hold his gaze.

He lets out a rough, broken breath. “You sure-“

You press up and kiss him hard. He gets the idea.

Bucky rips your panties off like they’re made of paper, drops one arm under your thighs, and picks you up with barely a grunt. You squeal and try to push away on instinct, but he’s strong. Stronger than you thought, and you’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time ogling his muscles. He slams his mouth over yours for a brief, hungry kiss, spits down your throat, and tosses you right over his shoulder.

“Bucky-“

“Shh,” he slaps your ass and you squeak again, dropping your face right into his shoulder. He squeezes over the pleasurable sting then starts to walk, keeping you steady over him.

“Where- Where are we going?” You try to push up to see over his shoulder. Bucky lands another spank on your ass, and you fall right back down with a whine. “James- Shit-“

He’s dragging his fingers over your sopping wet cunt, smearing the mess everywhere he can, humming while he walks. Your thighs clench, but that only seems to give him easier access, and you whine.

“Bu- Bucky-“

“Ah,” Bucky slaps your pussy, and you muffle your moan against his body. “That’s not what I want to hear, doll.”

You swallow and shake your head, bunching his shirt between your trembling fingers. Bucky spanks your pussy again and it clenches around nothing. His thumb drifts, teasing over your clit in tiny brushes, back and forth and back and forth. You whimper, but he just hums, dragging two fingers through the mess between your thighs, before returning to your swollen little button.

“Come on,” he coos, encouraging and mocking all at once. “Use your words for me.”

You can’t. You muffle another moan in Bucky’s shoulder, writhing best you can in his iron grip. Bucky hums like this is casual, like he’s not already taking you apart with the lightest of touches. A door creaks open, and you barely have time to recognize the carpet of Nat’s guest room before you’re being tossed down onto the bed.

You bounce slightly, and Bucky catches your ankles, dragging you right to the edge of the mattress. You stare at him, mouth hanging open, completely unsure what to do with yourself. His lips twitch and he lowers down, pressing a gently, loving kiss to your lips. You arch up and he rubs your thighs, easing you down into his touch. You slump forward, running your fingers through his hair, and he makes a low, satisfied sound from the back of his throat.

Bucky traces his hand a little higher up your thigh, and you try not to buck into his touch. It’s not very successful, and he smiles against your lips, pinching your upper thigh. You whimper and turn your head, trying to save useless face. Bucky chuckles, sucking a small mark under your throat, then flicking his tongue against the sensitive skin.

“James…” You moan, and he goes still. You turn nervously, worried you somehow, already, ruined it. “Bucky?”

His throat bobs. He grabs your chins between two fingers, eyes boring through you, like he can see all your hazy, love-colored thoughts.

“Buck-“

“James,” he mutters, dragging his thumb over your swollen lip. “Keep callin’ me James, doll.”

You nod, a faint flush burning your cheeks. It’s not even from the way he’s touching you. Not right now. James isn’t a name Bucky lets anyone use. You used to, but then he started pushing you, and you didn’t want to lose that last sacred closeness, of being allowed to use his nickname. But if James is what he wants. He’ll get it. You’ll give him almost anything, right now.

“James,” you breathe, and Bucky’s throat bobs. He leans down for another, slower kiss. You close your eyes and let him control the depth, the unmeasured but drizzle passion like honey. When he pulls away you’re breathless, and he’s on his knees.

Naked and on his knees.

You make a tiny sound, gaping shamelessly at his cock. It’s thick and heavy looking, leaking with pre-cum and probably more than you can take. But you want to try. You want to drool around it in every possible way, looking up and Bucky and getting that faint, affectionate smile.

“You seein’ something you like?” Bucky teases, and you give him a hopeless, embarrassed look. He chuckles and grabs himself, stroking slowly and holding your gaze. “You want it bad, huh,” he mutters, smearing some drool over your cheek. “He ain’t been fuckin’ your right, either. Left you so needy for so long, you get all quiet just seeing a real cock?”

Your face is on fire, but your core is throbbing and aching. You drop your brow against Bucky’s, fixated on his fist, pumping that massive dick.

“Spit on it,” Bucky grunts, and you obey thoughtless, letting some of your need fall from your lips to Bucky’s shining cock. He groans and smashes his lips over yours, his hand pumping faster until he’s groaning your name against your lips.

Then he pulls back, lets go of himself, and just stares at your slack, desperate expression. You swallow, and his lips curve into a faint, starved smile.

“You need to be treated like a whore, huh,” he mutters. “Fucked like a toy ‘till you remember how nice it is, to have my attention.”

Oh, God. Your thighs try to press together. Bucky shoves them apart, using his thumb to part your puffy, swollen pussy lips.

“Pretty little thing,” he mutters, pressing over your clit before dragging his thumb back down. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fuck you right. Gonna open you up,” he presses his thumb hard against your entrance, smirking at your tiny sound. “Then give you exactly what you need. That sound good?”

“Ye- Yeah,” you manage to babble, remembering his thing about words. “Yes, please.”

Bucky smiles, and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

You whine, and Bucky doesn’t waste time. He sinks fully down, kissing over your tummy as he shoves your legs fully apart. You watch him, breathing ragged, and weave your fingers through his hair for balance. He kisses the inside of one thigh, then the other. Nips at the sensitive skin, then flicks his tongue over the hurt before kissing it again. He takes his time, kissing all around your cunt, but never letting his mouth go where you really fucking need.

“James,” you whine, tugging on his hair. “Don’t- Don’t tease.”

He chuckles, his lips brushing right against your clit. You squirm, but he holds your thighs down and gives you a stern look.

“I’ll tease you all I fuckin’ want, babydoll,” he mutters, giving the quickest, lightest kiss to your clit. “You’re too pretty and reactive not to play with.”

You whimper, unable to come up with a response that isn’t a fuck you. As fun as it would be to push his buttons and find out just what punishment under Bucky’s attention is—being dragged over his lap, forced to sit on his cock until you’re drooling, brought right up to the edge over and over but never being allowed to fall—you’re too desperate right now. You might cum just from looking at him, it’s been so long, and he seems to know it.

“Needy pussy,” he mutters, tracing his thumb in circles around your clit. “Gonna take real good care of you, pretty girl.”

You mewl because god help you, you really believe him. Bucky pulls back the hood of your clit, blows on it in a way that makes your whole body seize up, then presses a long, slow kiss to the bundle of nerves.

“Fuck- James- James-“

“I know,” he coos, tongue flicking against your pulsing cunt. “Such a greedy fuckin’ girl, can’t even wait for me.” He kisses your clit again, making out with it until you’re panting and struggling to sit up. “Lucky I’m feelin’ generous,” he mutters, and whatever restraint he’d been pretending to have was gone.

Bucky shoves his face into your pussy, his beard scraping your thighs and his tongue licking a long, rough stripe up your core until it hits your clit, swirls, and  dives back down. Plunging in and out of your dripping hole before repeating the lick, playing with your clit more and more every time. Thick hands keep your legs spread when you start to get restless, but he lets you buck freely up into his mouth. He seems to enjoy it, how you pull on his hair and cry his name. If anything, his mouth just works harder against you, tongue flicking against your clit in rapid, tiny strokes that send you into a frenzy.

You fall back with a sob, grinding up and craning your neck to try and keep watching him. It’s a beautiful sight, Bucky drowning himself between your thighs. He winks at you, pressing his tongue flat over your entrance, and you fall back with a moan. You’re getting there fast. It would be embarrassing, with anyone but Bucky. He just kisses your thigh and bumps his nose against your clit, muttering you’re close against your skin before diving right back in.

“Bu- Bucky-“ You grab at the sheets, your pussy throbbing like a ticking bomb before an explosion. “Bucky- I- I’m gonna-“

His teeth graze your clit, and he wraps his lips tight around the nub, sucking on it hard. You scream as your vision goes white, your hips flying off the bed, but Bucky doesn’t stop. He lets wraps his arms around each thigh, shoves your legs close around his head, and keeps sucking on your clit, it starts to get all tingly and numb in the best way. It’s almost like he’s tickling it with his tongue, the pressure of his mouth perfect and unbearable, your eyes rolling back in your head as you writhe.

“Oh- Oh my god-“ You sob, pushing at his head. “Bucky- I- I can’t, please-“

He kisses your clit a little more gently, spanks your pussy, and gives you a stern look. “Yes, you can.”

It doesn’t seem to be something that’s up for argument. 

Bucky keeps you pinned to his face, sucking and sucking and sucking, no real care for what else you do. You cry and pull at the sheets, trying and climb away with no avail, and end up rolling onto your stomach, your face pressed into the sheets. Bucky still stays locked against your pussy, the feeling only intensifying when he’s beneath you. You’re all but sitting on his face, grinding you cunt down onto his jaw, sobbing into the sheets as your body becomes taut and wired and ready to snap.

A second orgasm rolls over you like a thunderstorm. Wet and loud and hot. You gush against Bucky’s face, tears starting to stream down your face from the overstimulation. You haven’t even had one proper orgasm in… longer than you want to admit. Brock never really gave you anything more than a shiver, and your patience in your own body was limited to a vibrator and ten minutes before a dull, anti-climatic orgasm that didn’t feel like much, but still made you too sensitive to keep going. Bucky just pulled two out of you, with his mouth alone.

He pulls back when you’re trembling, leaving a last, gentle kiss over your clit.

“Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he mutters, giving it one more spank before he starts to crawl over your body. “Coulda died there, doll, I swear.”

He laughs to himself, and you whimper against the sheets. Bucky pauses, caging you against the mattress with massive arms, and slowly rolls you over onto your back. You stare up at him, starry-eyed and spent, and his mouth twitches down.

“You alright?” He murmurs, brushing the hair from your face. You nod, and he doesn’t look convinced. “Are you-“

“Bucky,” you whisper, and his throat bobs. “If you don’t fuck me, I’m leaving.”

He laughs, throaty and dry, and ducks back down to give you another, slower kiss. One hand slides down your body, palming at your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers between pinching gently. Bucky smiles, at the tiny whine it pulls out of you.

“Could spend forever here,” he mutters. “Givin’ every single part of you the attention it deserves. Sucking on these tits while you ride my thigh. Bending you over and opening up that cunt with just my hands, just playing with your ass until you’re drippin’ on my lap.” He groans, his cock twitching against your thigh. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, babydoll. You got no idea.”

You hum, the tears on your cheeks shiner than before. He means it. Whatever doubts you’d had before fade, because you’re sure. Bucky means it.

He settles himself fully between your legs, the more aggressive, dominant mask seeming to fracture, like light splitting through the clouds. Always there, even when he pretends. Coming out when you most  need to see it.

“Gonna go right in,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Opened you up real good. Shouldn’t even hurt.”

You hum, pressing your face against his neck. Bucky rubs his cock against your cunt slowly, covering himself in your arousal before tapping his head against your clit—almost ceremoniously, like paying homage—and notching himself against your entrance.

The stretch isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Bucky’s still big, so big you can feel it in your throat, so big you don’t think you’ve ever been this full, but he’d prepped you so well, it’s just a faint burn before it molds into pleasure. Bucky’s warm breath fans over the top of your neck as he watches your pussy mold around his cock. He moans something like your name against your skin, and you wrap your arms tight around his head.

“Feels so good,” you moan as he pushes further in. “So- So good.”

Bucky grunts, and you whimper as he bottoms out, balls pressed tight to your ass.

For a few moments, neither of you move. Bucky looks up at you with a wrecked expression you can feel in your chest, and you give him a faint, nervous smile.

“You know I love you too, right?” You say, because it’s the only thing you can think.

Bucky’s throat bobs. He doesn’t seem to have any words, and gives you a slow, romantic kiss. He rolls his hips experimentally, and you gasp against his lips. He’s curved in a way that presses right up against your g-spot, and it’s almost like a massage. You clench down, and Bucky grunts, but he repeats the motion anyway.

“James- Ooooh-“ Your eyes roll back, and Bucky sucks and kisses over your jaw, grinding his cock right against that soft, gooey spot. “Fuck- James-“

Bucky makes a deep, almost feral sound, and starts to move faster. Shallow, brutal thrusts that split you right open. You grab his bicep for dear life, and he watchers your every reaction with a sharp attention. You mewl when he does a swivel move, almost flying off the bed, and he pins you down with a hand splayed over your stomach.

“Feel that?” He grunts, pulling all the way out before slamming back in. “You fuckin’ feel that, babydoll? How good we feel together? Greedy little pussy, swallowin’ my cock up like the whore you are- Fuck-“

Bucky falls back over you, kissing you with spit and teeth and brutal force. You wrap your arms around your neck, moaning loud and shameless as he picks up his pace. Small, measured thrusts turn into the bed creaking, Bucky’s cock drilling into your pussy like he’s trying to knock every thought from your head. It’s working. You’re a drooling, wound up mess below him, and he grins against your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he mocks. “Smart head so fuckin’ empty, when I got you on my cock. No one else makes you feel like this, do they?”

You don’t answer—you can’t—and Bucky smacks your clit.

“Do they?”

You shake your head, babbling out a pathetic half-answer. “N- No-“

“Who fucks you right?” Bucky demands, words harsh but touch gentle when he grabs your jaw.

“You.” Tears start to fall down your cheeks again. “You, Bucky- Please-“

You moan as he hits that spot again, and Bucky groans, dropping down to kiss the tears away, then mold his lips back over yours.

“Damn right, me,” he grunts, skin slapping against skin, the wet, sinful sound of him bullying into your cunt almost drowning out the words. “My fuckin’ girl.”

Bucky leans up, and you almost cry for him before you realize what he’s doing. Bucky grabs your knees with one arm and presses them up to your chest, leaning down to kiss you as he fucks you deeper into the mattress. The angle is deeper like this. You can feel it everywhere, from your toes to your lips. You make a strangled, undignified sound when Bucky’s thumb returns to your clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles.

“Cum with me, babydoll,” he grunts, kissing your calf and rutting into your drooling, pulsing cunt. “Come one, wanna fill you up, pump this pussy up ‘till everyone knows, just-“ He groans. “Gimme just one more.”

You don’t know where it comes from. You didn’t think you had it in you, but Bucky manages to pull it out. A third orgasm, slower and longer than the last too. Hotter, as well. Pooling in your gut before flooding out of your cunt. Down your thighs and over Bucky’s cock as you flutter and he doubles over with a roar.

You’re not sure what’s Bucky’s cum and what’s yours. There’s just wet stickiness, filling you up everywhere until your eyes are unfocused and your body is twitching. Bucky kisses you through the orgasms, fucking shallowly into your pussy like he can’t help himself. When you both ease down, you’re blinking at the ceiling with heavy eyes and a warm feeling blooming back into your chest. Free and light and easy, in a way you never expected yourself to have.

This is going to be a mess in the morning. Right now, you don’t really care.

“I guess Brock was right,” you muse. “You did want to sleep with me.”

Bucky sits up with a glare. “Don’t say that when I’m still inside of you.”

You giggle, reaching up to brush some hair from his brow. His gaze softens and he catches your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Do you believe me?” He mutters, and it’s small and worried. As if, after that, you’d somehow ever let him get away again.

“Yeah,” you smile, and his shoulders slump in relief.

“Thank god-“

“But,” you squeeze his hand. “I think you should keep proving it.”

Bucky chuckles, giving you an amused look before dropping his face right back into your boobs. You beam at the ceiling and pet the top of his head, neither of you in a rush to clean up. You probably should. You really should. Bucky seems to realize why at the same moment you do.

“Nat’s gonna kill us,” he groans, and you snort.

“Yeah. You.”

Bucky props his chin on your chest. “You too-“

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m her favorite.”

“That’s-“ Bucky sighs, and drops his face back down. “Yeah.”

You laugh, and he grins against your boob.

“Worth it,” he mutters, and you smile like a fool.

Because yeah. It was.   

✦End note: sometimes... cheating is okay!✦

✦If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3✦

✦Buy me a coffee!☕️ (and get early access!)✦

     “well, i’m sorry i couldn’t make it out to you for your big day.”

     chuckling, bucky stepped into the elevator of his building, praying the connection held on the way up. “i’ll have other birthdays. i think the g was down again anyway.”

     “god, that train is demonic.”

     he let out another, heftier laugh as he leaned back against the wall and let his head roll back. “go do what you gotta do, sweetheart. call me if you get a second this weekend. i’d still like to see you.” his last words came out a bit quieter, slightly uncertain. maybe it was because of his age ticking over yet another year, another patch of gray sprouting somewhere on his body.

     “i’ll try,” she cooed.

     “alright. bye, sweet girl.”

     there was a slump to his shoulders, a weight of disappointment and dejection. the numbers overhead climbed, stopping on his floor with a ding just as he dug his keys out of his pocket. and stepping into his place felt lonelier than usual. enough for him to grab a beer before he did anything else, a drop of it lingering on his lip when he made for his bedroom, tugging his belt free and kicking off his boots on his way. it idled for a moment, stuck just as he was at the sight that greeted him when he turned the lights on.

     “happy birthday, old man.”

     his lips parted, droplet finally able to drip off and into the front of his shirt as he stared at her. propped up against his pillows in nothing but a delicate set of red lace only missing the panties. in their place, a lone cupcake sat at the very apex of her thighs, covering her enough to have him whistling low as he took his first step closer, beer forgotten on his dresser.

     she beamed at him, holding back her laughter when he dropped onto his hands and crawled his way up her legs. “not so fast,” she tutted, carefully flicking the lighter in her hand to life to light the candle stuck into chocolate frosting. “make a wish.”

     bucky kept his eyes on her as he lowered himself down to cause the flame to dance under his breath. not until the first bead of wax began to roll down the stick did he close his eyes. what more could he really ask for, though?

     her skin pebbled with goosebumps when he blew just hard enough to get smoke rising up between them, his one hand reaching for the cupcake as his other crept further up the bed. eyes tracking him, she whined when he leaned over to set the dessert on his nightstand. “you have to eat it.”

     “i will,” he assured, “after we have our fun.”

     pursing her lips, she pushed at his chest, watching as his face immediately broke out into a grin.

     “you wanna be in charge, sweetheart?” he laughed, giving into her touch and falling onto his back so she could settle into his lap. “alright, i’ll bite. have your way with me.”

     she swallowed, thinking over her next move carefully before deciding to reach for the hem of his shirt. true to his word, he let her guide it up his torso without any struggle, lifted his arms when he needed to. he still tasted like beer when she slotted their lips together, tongue having to pry between his as he committed to their new roles. but she didn’t miss the way his hands twitched at his sides, instinctively wanting to move to her, grab at her, manipulate her into a position more vulnerable than her current one. just to taunt him further, she reached for them, pinning them into his mattress as she pulled away.

     his nostrils flared, a tight smile barely tugging at his lips. so dramatic, she was tempted to coo.

     her hold kept firm, fingers curling around his wrists as she began peppering her way down his chest. she took her time kissing along the chain of his dog tag, listening to the way his breathing started to come deeper. the hair dusting his skin tickled under her lips, sensation tingling once she finally reached his jeans. and it was almost disappointing that her lip tint held up so well because she would have loved to take in the sight of him covered in prints of red. from under her lashes, she looked up the length of him to find his gaze already locked on her, heated and focused, tracking her every move.

     she could see it, the slight curiosity as to whether or not she was going to give up and release his hands from her own. but she was determined, at least for the time being. so she let her eyes shut in concentration, teeth working their way around the thick cut of denim that encompassed the button she was targeting. pulling it as much as she could, she pushed her bottom lip out into the metal, forcing it through the opening. a rush of pride swelled in her, sending jitters through her veins as she moved for his zipper next, easily tugging it down with her teeth.

     “proud of yourself?” bucky smirked, undoubtedly doing a horrible job of concealing his own pride at the maneuver she’d pulled off.

     “i am, yeah.”

     he hummed, nodding his head slowly. “gonna take ’em all the way down like that?”

     and maybe she hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. so she let go of his wrists, hardly shocked when he snapped them to quickly take hold of hers and pull her up toward him.

     “i’ll let you stay on top,” he breathed, ghosting his lips over hers. “if you spin around for me.”

     the ultimatum made her stomach pool with heat, harsh shiver shaking up her spine as she nodded. when bucky released her, she moved to do as he said, turning completely so her knees bracketed his shoulders and she was staring down the bulge of him through the opening in his jeans.

     “go ahead, baby,” he encouraged, “you’re in charge.”

     she could hear the arrogance oozing off his words, how he knew she was already tempted to flop onto her back and submit like a captured animal. it only goaded her, had her rolling her eyes before she began pushing down his jeans and boxers in one go.

     he was almost fully hard, laying against his hip and waiting for her to take him into her hold. she felt him jump in her palm, growing stiffer with each stroke of it over his sensitive skin.

     bucky squeezed at her hip, letting his knuckles graze over her as he moved his arm under her and back over again, forearm flush to her thigh and thumb reaching out to spread her apart. he watched with a grin, a rush of heat shooting down to his core when she fluttered around nothing at his touch. already, she was glistening, silken against the pad of his fingers.

     her lips puckered, kissing at his tip where it peeked out from his skin. tugging her hand down, she parted her mouth around him, taking him further and further until he was pressed to her throat.

     she fluttered again, hips canting forward with nowhere to go in his hold.

     “that’s it,” he cooed, “keep going.”

     breathing in, she let him breach her throat, thighs clenching at the groan it made him let out. her hand worked under her lips, catching her drool before it cold drip down onto his balls. a squeeze to her ass sent her forward, throat constricting around him and turning his grunt into a curse.

     bucky watched as his fingers slid right into her, sucked in by her walls until she moaned around him. the vibration had him pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go with a snap.

     “fuck, sweetheart.”

     the rasp to his voice was enough to have her pushing back into his fingers, the thrust of them sending her forward and falling into a steady rhythm. with a curl of his knuckles, he dug into her sweet spot, familiar with it after all the months spent worshipping it from every angle he could hit.

     she grew slicker under his touch, coating his fingers all the way to his palm. they worked blindly, massaging along her with each push and pull as his head fell back onto his pillow and his jaw went slack around a moan.

     “good girl,” he rasped, feeling her clench around him under the praise.

     for a moment, he let the sounds of them echo around the room uninterrupted, slick and breathy, growing more desperate with each pass of lips and fingers. but he couldn’t take much more, wrapping his arms around her thighs and tugging until she was almost seated on his face.

     “wait!” she gasped, string of spit still connecting her lips to his cock before he forced her closer and it snapped in half.

     further protest died on her tongue as his flattened against her clit, circling and forming a point to flick back and forth. his hold tightened, overpowering her resistance to bring her flush to his face. another shiver took her, eyes fluttering under the pressure he always managed to build within her so quickly.

     at the feel of her curling her fingers back around his cock, he let his palm strike off of her hip before holding it out along with his other. she moaned under the sting but placed her wrists in his hold so he could pin them to the bed, sending her collapsing onto him.

     he left her no choice but to watch as his tip fell against his stomach, shining with spit and leaking enough to drip onto his happy trail. another moan ripped up her throat, frustrated and raw, spurring her into rocking her hips down into his face. it seemed to please him, satisfied hum tickling against her and his cock bouncing slightly.

     with a squeeze of warning, he released her one wrist to bring his hand up and sink his fingers back into her, pumping them forcefully before she could even catch her breath.

     “c’mon, baby,” he goaded, trailing his lips over the back of her thigh. when his thumb fell upon her clit, she tensed, hips jumping to try and escape him.

     “n-not on your face!”

     bucky pouted against her, easing his movements into simple massages again. “but it’s my birthday.”

     “you’re sick,” she huffed, sounding more like a laugh through her smile.

     he couldn’t exactly argue with that. especially not when she let out a cracked whine, one stroke of his fingers causing her to drip down onto his chin.

     “daddy...”

     keeping hold of her, he sat up, causing her to yelp in surprise. with one final kiss to her ass, chased away by the nip of his teeth, he tugged on her arm until she was upright enough for him to roll them over and pin her under him. her lips were slow to catch up to his, parting once they finally did for him to slip his tongue against hers.

     “mm, happy birthday is right,” he grinned, nudging her thighs up so his could plant firm between them. “get to stare at my pretty girl when i fuck her full of-”

     her hand clamped over his mouth, both of them laughing before he bit into her skin and chased her away.

     “what, you only like when i talk like that inside you?” to tease her with the promise, he reached down to drag his head through her slit. “i’ve said much, much worse.”

     she saw as her eyes grew clouded, knees shaking against his hips before she pulled them up even higher in hopes of drawing him in.

     “beg me,” he whispered, letting himself press to her entrance as his nose nudged hers.

     “please... please let me have it.”

     bucky smirked, pushing in just enough to have her sighing in relief and whining in protest when he pulled back. “you can do better than that.”

     his beard scratched over her skin, nearly burning from how alight she was with sensitivity. it made her arch into him, sheets bunching around her as she pressed their cheeks together and brought her lips to his ear. “please, daddy. please fill me up and make me leak around your big cock.”

     “very good,” he chuckled, kissing his way back to her lips so he could taste the moan she let out when he finally pushed in.

     and it was every bit as saccharine as the countless other times, the two of them slotting together almost too perfectly.

     he laughed breathily, kissing at her cheek while he started a rhythm. “that was a good effort you put in, princess.”

     she gripped at his shoulders, fingers crawling across his back to grab at the chain of his tags so she could wrap it around her fist and keep it from getting caught between them.

     “but this is where you like to be, right?” he grunted, making his point with a firm press of his hips into hers that made her whimper under the pressure of him at her deepest point. “like when i take care of you?”

     “yes,” she moaned, shaking when he pushed harder.

     “i know, baby.”

     his lips fell to her neck as he began fucking down into her, more force than speed, hips pounding against hers and drawing almost pained noises from her.

     her voice almost failed her when she went to gasp out, “more. please.”

     bucky grabbed onto her hip with his metal hand, other snaking up under her to grip onto her shoulder and keep her in place. the first clap of their skin had her crying out, every one after pulling these stunted little whines from her that he had become nothing short of addicted to.

     “you’ve been such a good girl today,” he purred, “going out of your way to make daddy’s birthday special... fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

     her eyes were rolling, thighs clamping as much as they could around him. it was fairly new to them, the discovery that a slight pinch of pain had her nearly melting under his touch. whether it be bruised skin or the full weight of him behind each thrust, she was reduced to trembles, gushing under him audibly.

     “listen to you,” he marveled, keeping his pace just to hear how she squelched around him.

     “daddy,” she whined, “i wanna- i need... oh, god...”

     “what, sweetheart? tell daddy what you need.”

     “flip me, please! please, i wanna cum...”

     bucky sneered at her, no real malice in his expression as he repositioned his hands, ready to give her exactly what she wanted. “so greedy. what about what i want? hm?”

     “please, daddy,” she tried, feeling the knot inside her tightening. “wanna make a mess for you, be your good little slut.”

     “fuck...”

     pulling out of her, he ignored her strained gasp and grabbed at her, forcing her body into the position she wanted it to be in so badly. her hips raised instinctively, ready for him to slot his pillow beneath them. they jumped forward into it when his hand struck her ass, hard enough to have a sickening crack echoing around the room under her winced moan. another followed it, precise, landing right over the same patch of skin that was already smarting and turning hot. she panted into his mattress, tensing at the feel of his palm soothing along her flesh before it ran down the back of her thigh, over the strap of her garter belt.

     bucky tested the strength of the fabric, tugging on it a few times, farther away from her skin with each one before he let it snap back against her on the last. she jumped again, shaking under the sharp pain that seemed to spread out from its source into every nerve in her body before it settled at her core.

     “i’ll let you cum,” he started, forcing her thighs open enough for his hand to slip between them. “but not on my cock. not like this.”

     “no, no, please! i-i can... i want your cock...”

     he could hear the pout in her voice, could picture the pleading look in her eyes. it was too bad she wanted to face away from him.

     without a word, he pushed his fingers in, keeping her steady with his metal palm against her spine as he practically punched down into her.

     “fuck! daddy, please!”

     her hips were lifting into him, shaking as her thighs closed around his wrist. it was almost drowned under her cries of pleasure, but he could hear as she grew wetter and wetter, walls spasming from the assault of his fingers.

     “that’s it, baby, make a mess for me. make a mess in daddy’s bed.”

     “oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god... f-fuck! yes...”

     her words trailed into a moan, guttural and wheezy the longer i went on. until the force of her climax had her gasping for air, practically ripping at his sheets.

     bucky watched as the pillow grew damp under her, metal hand leaving her back to pry at her thighs so he could see her gushing out wildly, endlessly when he didn’t let up.

     “yeah?” he bit, “wanted to cum, huh? fuckin’ cum then. cum like the good little slut you are.”

     the groan of agony she let out was muffled, face pushing into the bed as he forced her to the brink of what her body could take.

     it was when her feet began to kick that he finally let up, pulling free from her and staring down at her as she heaved and twitched, thighs wet from how hard he’d made her spray.

     her stomach was still cramping, core throbbing, when he reached to take her into his arms. she clung to him reflexively, allowing him to soothe her through the aftershocks of pleasure.

     “good girl,” he cooed, lips curling into a smirk against her cheek. “there you go, let daddy take care of you.”

     the press of him to her entrance had her body jerking despite how she moved to pull her legs up so he could push inside.

     bucky kept still, continuing to stroke at her back, down to her hip and back up to her jaw before he cupped her face and pulled her into him. she sighed against him, lips moving languidly as her one leg hitched over his waist. her other pushed under him until he lifted slightly to let it slip through. he loved lying like that with her, feeling her stomach pressed flush to his and the plush of her thighs on either side of him. when her arms wrapped around his shoulders, he made the first move to thrust into her.

     slow at first, just like their kisses, a tender drag of him back and forth along her sensitive walls. each breath turned into a hum, his own vibrating up his throat.

     “that feel good, baby?”

     she nodded, rocking her hips into his as his hand found her ass.

     it squeezed at her flesh, drawing a whimper from her that had him driving into her faster. he used the hold to guide her onto him, heat searing under his skin at how the firm touch to her battered skin made her moan in need.

     “you made such a mess for me,” he beamed, “so fuckin’ wet...” to make his point, he slipped his hand between her ass, fingers trailing down to feel along the slick covering her skin. they parted around his cock where it was pumping in and out of her, damp heat surrounding him. “you take me so well, baby. reach down and feel it.”

     trembling, she moved her hand to squeeze between them, parting her lips to feel for what he was talking about.

     “see?”

     she nodded.

     “yeah,” he cooed, chuckling slightly. “let me taste it.”

     her eye were hooded when she looked at him, watching as her hand came up to his lips and they parted for her to slip her wet fingers inside. he hummed around them, tongue sliding along every inch so he didn’t miss a drop. as soon as she pulled them out, he pushed into her space and shoved his tongue into her mouth.

     “you want daddy’s cum?” he rasped, “gonna let me fill up your sweet little pussy?”

     she nearly choked trying to gasp out, “yes.”

     “yeah, you are. my good little slut. tell me whose pussy this is.”

     “yours, daddy. mm, it’s yours.”

     “that’s right,” he swallowed, staring at her as she lost herself again. “who makes you soak the bed like that?”

     “you, daddy, only you.”

     a growl ripped out of him as he pushed into her and flattened her against his bed. gone were the careful strokes of his cock, cast aside for him to pound down into her and fill the air with claps of their skin. the pull of her brows triggered her lips to part, still painted and perfect through all their kisses.

     “you gonna let me fuck you full? hm?”

     “yes!”

     bucky grunted, a determined set falling over his features as he chased after his release inside her.

     his bed was hitting the wall, her hand pushing up against the headboard to keep her from getting fucked up the mattress straight into it. “yes, daddy, yes...”

     “that’s it, baby, open up for daddy.”

     “please, please, please, please, please!”

     his stomach was taut with mounting pressure, mouth moving on its own as his mind got away from him. “take my cock, take daddy’s cock. let me pump you full of my fuckin’ cum. fuck... want it dripping out of you.”

     she moaned, head thrown back and thighs shaking around him. “yes, daddy, please...”

     it took over him suddenly, stunting his hips under the force of his orgasm as it ripped through him and flooded her at her deepest point. “take it, baby,” he strained, meeting her moan with his own. “so good- so good for daddy... ah, fuck...”

     warmth consumed her from the inside out, his hair falling around them as his forehead pressed to hers. as much as she ached for more, she held her tongue and let him come back down to earth, stunted breaths panting from her lips with each final thrust into her.

     bucky swallowed, groaning through his teeth as the last shocks settled out of him. only once his muscles felt solid again did he pull out from the heat of her, lips trailing down to hers and continuing on. they pecked against her chest, breaths pelting behind them, all the way down to her dripping center. a trail of his cum was already leaking out of her, glistening white when he pressed his thumbs to her to spread her open.

     “fuck, sweetheart...”

     she had only a second to brace before his lips were on her, kissing her sloppily and giving way for his tongue to lash over her clit until she was arching off the bed.

     “bucky!” she keened, hips thrashing against his face.

     he let her flail, never once letting his lips lose their place around her bud. even as she tensed up with ecstasy, the pressure causing his cum to ooze out of her and onto his chin.

     “mmn- yes, daddy, fuck...”

     static took over her vision behind her eyelids, stomach tight with release and the wave of molten heat that flooded it. it seeped into her thighs and chest, rushing all the way down to her toes where they curled against his back.

     her breathing was erratic, pound of her heart thudding against his tongue. she still shook even as he pulled off of her and peppered kisses around her hips.

     “sh, baby, i got you.” the nylon of her stockings caught on his rough skin, palm soothing its way up her legs and further as he crawled up her to bring their lips together. “fuck...”

     when he fell off to the side onto his back, she let him pull her into him, curling against his chest easily. they remained like that until his heart was steady again under her hand and hers was no longer echoing in her ears. her thighs were sticky and her skin felt clammy all over, his sheets and pillow still soaked when she moved her leg to stretch out the stiffness in it.

     “you still have to eat your cupcake, you know.”

     from where he had shut his eyes for a moment, bucky chuckled breathlessly, pulling them up so they were propped against his headboard. he huffed out a sigh before reaching for the dessert. she helped him peel away the wrapper, letting him take a full bite as her eyes shimmered with mischief. he knew why when she nudged his hand up, sending icing up into his nose and across his mustache and cheeks.

     “you fuckin’ brat,” he hissed, fighting her easily to pin her down and threaten her with the cupcake raised over his head.

     “wait, wait!” she laughed, “i surrender!”

     “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

     he retreated, shoving the rest of the cake into his mouth as she sat back up, still giggling. her touch was gentle when she began to wipe at his face, licking the frosting off of her fingers and trying to reverse his sour expression by lapping at his cheek directly. it worked, smile curling at his lips as he watched hers. still vibrant.

     “i wanted to ask you something,” she hummed.

     “oh, here she goes.”

     squinting at him, she rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around him anyway. “would you be my boyfriend?”

     bucky’s lips pursed, eyes falling from hers momentarily. “would i or will i?”

     “will you be my boyfriend?”

     the way she was so quick, unashamed to be doubling down on her question, had him fighting his grin. “you wanna drag around an old man like me?”

     “i wanna show you off,” she asserted, leaning in to nudge at his jaw.

     bucky laughed. “i think it’s supposed to be the other way around, sweetheart.”

     but her gaze was so firm, so confident, he let it wash over him and distract him from everything beyond his bedroom. his knuckles came up to brush across her cheek, still hot to the touch and dewy. it wouldn’t be much different than what they were already doing. nights at the bar, texts throughout the day, ruined sheets and dinner on weekends. it was a label. a claim. the spoken part of the unspoken agreement they’d fallen into.

     “alright,” he grinned, “i’ll be your little boyfriend.”

     her smile split her face, barely allowing her lips to press to his. “happy birthday. boyfriend.”

     before dinner could even make its way to the table, she knew the date was going nowhere.

     when the man across from her wasn’t scrolling through his phone, trying to excuse the action with talks of his ‘stocks,’ he was cutting off every sentence she managed to begin. at a certain point, she decided to stop talking altogether, and she really didn’t think he noticed.

     the bar they were in must have been the preferred spot for every asshole in the area since she had been there twice prior on dates that had gone equally as terribly. the only solace was the pair of eyes that caught hers periodically throughout the night.

     the older guy had been there the other times she came for dates, too, watching her subtly from the pool table or the bar. one time, he’d gotten up to use the restroom and their gazes had locked for a full six seconds. not that she’d counted. the guy she’d been on a date with had brought his friend, and they were counting out how long it took to chug two beers.

     she didn’t wait to find out and left the place as soon as her eyes lost the older man’s.

     as her date picked up his phone once more, she sought out the stranger’s gaze, finding it already on her from where he was nursing his drink and pretending to care about the game playing on the tv.

     bucky set his jaw, glancing over to the kid across from her before finding her again. the look in her eyes was more pleading than anything, begging to be spared from another night of disappointment.

     “so,” her date began, setting his phone back down. “you good to split it?”

     “what?” she asked, pit in her stomach sinking lower.

     “the bill. i prefer to go fifty-fifty.”

     as he spoke, he flagged down their waitress obnoxiously, snapping his fingers and waving wildly until they walked over.

     “yeah,” she sighed, “sure.”

     their waitress walked off again with their cards, her date’s lips spreading into a grin. “you’re really cool for that,” he chuckled, “most girls get like psychos about it.”

     “really?” she deadpanned, pressing her fingertip to the top of her straw and lifting it out of her water before letting it go. the liquid dripped out and flooded over the remaining ice.

     “yeah, it’s pretty gross, honestly.”

     maybe he should pick better stocks.

     “you wanna come over to my place?” he asked, “or yours maybe?”

     she waited a beat, making sure their waitress was on the way back before she spoke. “no, actually, i’m pretty tired.”

     almost immediately, his demeanor shifted, brows hardened and lips thinned in annoyance. good, she thought. he went quiet, only offering her a short goodbye as they stepped out onto the street. no pleasantries, no offers to walk her home, no promises to meet again. not that she was complaining about getting rid of him as quickly as possible.

     her phone screen lit up the area around her as she pulled it out to text her friend. the messages with her date were the last thing open, but as soon as she unlocked her phone, they were gone, their thread vanished from her inbox. he’d already unmatched with her. without a word.

     rolling her eyes, she slipped her phone back into her purse and glanced around the street before her. it had grown cold, bite of fall in the air as she crossed her arms in an attempt to get warm. commotion behind her caused her to look back into the bar, people exclaiming over something that had happened with the game. and then she found him again.

     his back was to her now that she was stood outside, broad and firm, straining under his simple black tee. the silvery ends of his hair rustled when he smoothed a hand through the strands at his temple.

     fuck it.

     she could feel his eyes on her as she set her purse over the back of the stool beside him and settled onto it. her own found them shyly, a wave of nerves creeping down her spine.

     bucky gave her a small smile and motioned to the bartender. “want anything?”

     “no,” she shook her head, “thank you.”

     he nodded, reaching for his beer to take a sip of it. when the bottle clinked back against the bartop, he leaned forward to match her pose, tucking his hand beneath his chin. “strike out again?”

     for a moment, she sat there stunned at his forwardness. but when they had been dancing around one another for months... maybe there was no other way to start the conversation.

     “i guess my batting average is lacking,” she laughed.

     he shook his head, eyes roaming over her in a way that didn’t make her want to cringe away from the attention. it was respectful, appreciative. like he was admiring a carefully crafted sculpture, taking in the curves of her shoulders and the dip of her waist.

     “no, no,” he soothed, “i don’t think it’s any fault of your own.” another wave of cheers erupted through the bar, bucky leaning closer so he wouldn’t have to shout at her over the noise. “bucky,” he offered, extending his hand to her.

     she took it softly as she gave him her own name. he repeated it back, quirking a brow like he was checking to see if he’d gotten it right, really testing it on his lips, how it rolled off his tongue.

     “yeah,” she breathed, swallowing thickly when he didn’t let her hand go just yet.

     running his thumb over her knuckles, bucky smirked at the goosebumps that rose along her exposed shoulders. “so,” he started, repeating her name again. “what seems to be the problem with all these guys?”

     “conducting a survey?”

     he shrugged, “maybe.”

     she laughed lightly, finally pulling her hand back from his to try and quell the heat rising behind her face. “some of them have been nice. at first. they’re all just very... immature, i guess.”

     bucky let out a deep chuckle, flashing his teeth at her in the process. “oh, yeah?” he smirked. when she nodded, he sat back in his seat, pressing his palms to the tops of his thighs. “so you’re trying your luck with an old man?”

     “if that’s okay,” she faltered, worrying that maybe she’d misread something somehow.

     “it’s okay.”

     letting out a breath, she spun her stool to face him a little more, knees bumping into his spread thigh. he looked down at them before looking back to her.

     “last guy seemed like a real piece of work,” he commented, moving to take another sip of his beer and letting the bottle rest on his thigh. “on his phone when you’re sitting right there.”

     “also just ghosted me when i wouldn’t go home with him,” she added, “after making me pay the bill.”

     “you’re kidding me.”

     shaking her head, she laughed, “well, fifty-fifty.”

     bucky’s brows knitted like he couldn’t understand what she was telling him. “fifty-fifty, huh? that’s a real thing?”

     “yeah, it’s... fine, i guess. if you’re okay with it, but... i don’t know.”

     “no,” he asserted, “guy should always treat. especially on a first date.”

     she shrugged her shoulder at him, giggling when he mirrored the action playfully. “especially on your birthday?”

     that made his eyes blow wide, wrinkles at the corners smoothing away with his shock and horror. “you really must be messing with me now.”

     “nope,” she snorted, “though, to be fair, i think he forgot that as soon as i told him.”

     the hand that wasn’t holding his beer came up to run down his face, silver of his fingers glistening under the string lights behind the bar. when it dropped back to his lap, he stared at her apologetically.

     “get yourself a dessert,” he pleaded, “on me.”

     there was something in his demeanor that was so comforting, so welcoming. maybe the way he carried himself with an air of confidence, secure enough in himself to actually give her attention beyond a hollow once-over. it made want curl deep in her core, had her drawing closer and closer to making a crazy suggestion.

     “no, thank you,” she sighed.

     bucky fixed her with a stern look, one that was more suggestive than it was intimidating. “come on,” he goaded, “let me do something for you.”

     the slight rasp to his voice as he lowered it and the way his arm flexed through his sleeve, the sight of his spread thighs, thick forearms resting on them... she suddenly went shy under his attention, embarrassed to speak the thoughts swarming her brain.

     finishing off his beer, bucky set the bottle back on the bar and nodded to the bartender. he let a heavy breath out through his nose, lips stuck in a permanent half-smirk from the girl beside him. even if she wasn’t giving him a response, he could see one in the way she shifted on her stool, knees bumping against his thigh repeatedly.

     “you don’t want anything?” he teased. she pursed her lips, pulling them to one side as she bit into the corner of them. “or do you want something and don’t know how to ask for it?”

     meeting his gaze for only a second, she deflated a little in her seat. “maybe.”

     maybe she’d made a mistake thinking she could handle being so forward.

     just as she began to beat herself up, bucky reached out and grabbed a leg of her stool, giving it one firm tug to pull her closer. the wood squealed against the floor, thankfully drowned out by the chatter of the other patrons. he let his arm come to rest on the back of her seat, leaning toward her just that little bit more to make her skin start to burn, a shiver shaking through her almost embarrassingly.

     “there,” he whispered playfully, “no one can hear us now.”

     as if an audience had been the problem...

     she laughed softly anyway, using it to buy herself some time to muster up the courage for what she was about to ask.

     “i want to... leave. with you, i mean. if... if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

     god, she sounded like the world’s worst car salesman.

     “and go where?” bucky pressed, undeterred from her awkward request.

     he was in her shoes once, young and unsure of himself, older and even more unsure. it had taken a lot of time and a lot of practice to get to the mask of unwavering confidence he wore now. he was more than happy to wait for her to find her voice again, watching for the first sign of true discomfort to back away from the roles he was establishing. ones he was almost positive she was excited to slip into.

     “somewhere neutral?” she tried, backpedaling again under his steady gaze. “i don’t know, i haven’t really... done this before.”

     bucky’s brows furrowed slightly for a moment, smoothing back out to keep her from mistaking it for judgement. “i’m alright with grabbing us a room for the night. if- if that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

     the term of endearment came with the gentle touch of his thumb at her shoulder, rough skin beginning to rub back and forth.

     “that’s what i want.”

     “yeah?”

     “yeah,” she swallowed, nodding to make her point.

     “alright.”

     bucky pulled his hand away from her shoulder, bringing it up to stroke at her jaw softly before he stood. she sat there in awe of him, of his size, watching as his muscles strained beneath his shirt with the movements of him pulling out his wallet and tossing a few bills on the bartop. he turned back to her and kicked his stool out of the way, stepping between it and her with his palm facing upwards in offering. that simple action alone had her knees ready to give out when she took his hand and helped herself down with it. he even beat her to grabbing her purse, sliding it carefully up onto her shoulder.

     “ready?” he asked, speaking softly with a nod to the door.

     her own nod was quick and jerky, a sudden rush of excitement shooting throughout her veins.

     pushing open the door, he stepped out and onto the sidewalk, waiting for her to follow.

     “thank you,” she beamed, trying to bite back the strength of her smile.

     “you’re breaking my heart,” he pouted, “you don’t have to thank me for holding a door.”

     “well...” she giggled nervously.

     bucky shook his head, giving her another flash of his teeth as he chuckled and dug into his pocket for his phone. “here,” he offered, “look through and find a place that looks comfortable to you.”

     taking his phone, she looked down at the list of hotels nearby, glancing up at him for confirmation it was alright. he gave her another small laugh and nodded in encouragement.

     with a firm hold of her bicep, he guided her off to the side, away from the door so they wouldn’t bother anyone, grinning as she let him do whatever with her already. her focus was down on his phone, thumbs scrolling through the page of hotels that he noticed she’d sorted by price.

     “well, don’t do that,” he scoffed, tilting the screen toward himself so he could set it to reviews instead. “there. don’t worry about the price, just find something that you think you’ll be comfortable in. that’s what i’m concerned about.”

     “okay,” she murmured, tapping on the first option and swiping through the pictures. it looked decent enough, standard high-end hotel in the city. the decor was a little boring, but that probably didn’t really matter. “this looks alright.”

     bucky nodded as she swiped through the pictures for him before taking his phone back. “fifteen minute walk,” he said once he got the confirmation screen for their reservation. “wanna grab a cab?”

     “no, no, we can walk. if that’s okay with you.”

     “i don’t know... an old guy like me? without my walker?”

     her shoulders shook lightly with her laughter. “you can hold onto me for assistance.”

     “that’s awfully kind, young lady.”

     falling into step, he started them toward the hotel, chancing glances her way every few steps. she seemed giddy enough, always biting at the corner of her smile when he found her. as his hand went to her lower back for them to cross the street, she looked at him quizzically.

     “you’re not cold?” she asked.

     bucky shook his head. “i run kinda hot. why, are you?”

     “a little.”

     “here,” he suggested, holding out his arm to her. when she wrapped her own arms around it, he tugged her closer to his side. “better?”

     “mhm.”

     somewhere along the way, her fingers had drifted down, interlocking with his easily as she fought the urge to nuzzle against his bicep.

     “wanna stop in here real quick,” he pointed, guiding them into a drugstore. “want anything?”

     she shook her head, watching him curiously as he stepped up to the counter. her curiosity quickly turned to embarrassment when he asked the cashier for a pack of condoms. a pack that had her stomach flipping with anticipation as much as it flipped with nerves.

     “you’re not allergic, are you?”

     “no,” she whispered, pulling away slightly so he could get his wallet out.

     bucky refused a bag, ready to carry the black box through the streets like it was nothing until she grabbed it and shoved it in her purse. he laughed at her, snaking his arm around her back and onto her hip for the last few blocks to the hotel.

     she waited beside him as he checked them in, looking around the lobby to the plush furniture and stock paintings, shuffling closer to him when she locked eyes with a guy working on his computer and shooting her a sly grin.

     “y’okay?” bucky breathed, turning slightly to rub at her arm softly. “still want to?”

     she nodded at first, earning a squeeze to her bicep in command. “yeah- yes, i still want to.”

     “alright,” he grinned. the receptionist handed over a little folder with two keycards inside, smiling at them politely. just when they went to head for the elevators, bucky stopped them. “oh, actually, can i go ahead and ask for a few extra sets of towels to be sent up?”

     the receptionist didn’t hesitate before nodding and giving him a cheery, “of course!”

     finally stepping into the elevator, she looked at him, finding his gaze already on her.

     “what?” he purred, brushing his knuckles along her jaw and loosely wrapping his palm around the back of her neck.

     she went shy under his touch, falling against him playfully to bury her face in his chest. bucky simply laughed at her, hand burning down her back to the strings holding her top together. he let his fingers strum at them, pulling one into the crook of his finger to tug on it and hum at the way she sighed when it snapped back to her skin.

     bringing his metal fingers to her chin, he tilted her face up and asked again, “still wanna do this?”

     “yeah,” she sighed, “i’m just... shy.”

     “you were outgoing enough to approach me,” he said softly.

     “no, i know. it’s... a little different. under these circumstances...”

     the elevator came to a slow stop, floor number sounding alongside a ding as the doors opened. he stuck his hand out to keep them from closing again, gaze never breaking from hers to assert, “we’ll do what you’re comfortable with.”

     “okay.”

     their room was as nice as in the pictures, yellow glow making the plush duvet look even more inviting.

     “you need the bathroom?” he asked, setting their keys and his belongings on the entertainment center. when she shook her head, he gave her a squeeze around her elbow. “i’m just gonna freshen up, i’ll be right out.”

     nodding, she watched him go, making for the bed when the door shut behind him. as she pulled out the box of condoms, she looked down at her phone, deciding to grab it and send her friend the hotel and room number just in case. bucky seemed like a decent guy, but...

     the flood of texts from her friend distracted her, drawing her focus away from him emerging from the bathroom again.

     he slid up behind her, finally gaining her attention when his fingers ghosted along the laces of her top again. she inhaled shakily before him, clicking her phone off and setting it on the nightstand next to her purse.

     the scent of soap lingered on him, crisp and floral, the kind that left skin squeaky from its strength. her teeth found the corner of her bottom lip, pulling on it as she felt bucky begin to tug at the strings along her back, undoing the little bow she’d struggled to tie in them earlier that evening. a warm gust of breath landed across her shoulder, his lips soon to follow, peppering light kisses along it and up to her neck.

     “you’re like a present, sweetheart,” he hummed, continuing to work at loosening the laces. “thought it was your birthday.”

     her laugh came breathily, more akin to a heavy sigh as her head lolled to the side to offer up more skin for his lips to traverse. he’d tugged at the strings enough to have her top loosening around her middle, support to her breasts falling away just enough to make her instinctively want to clutch her arms to her chest. his hands smoothing around her waist to her stomach stopped her, the heat and chill of his palms working their way slowly to cup her through the fabric and give her a tentative squeeze.

     “good?” he rasped, feeling her hum rumble through her throat against his lips.

     “yeah...”

     dropping his hands back down to her hips, he guided her into a spin, leaving his metal arm around her back and bringing his other hand to her cheek. she looked up at him through her lashes, lips already parted, waiting for his through the thin pants leaving them. bucky’s thumb traced over the edge of her bottom one, eyes tracking the movement and how her lipstick didn’t budge before he found her gaze again. just long enough to watch as her lashes fluttered when he moved in, leaving a long kiss to the apple of her cheek.

     her touch was shy as it came up to wrap around his wrist, drifting down to the thick of his forearm just as he pressed their mouths together with a sigh. at the first graze of their tongues, she could taste the beer still on his, caught the faintest hint of salt stuck in his beard from whatever he had been snacking on at the bar. it made her whimper, hand sliding up to his shoulder and other following as he pulled her closer.

     the metal of his arm whirred quietly, gears grinding with restraint, the way he held back from clawing at her like an animal. he felt more control with his flesh, allowing his hand to fall from her face and brush along her bicep before wrapping around the laces across her back. it pulled the fabric tight again, earning him a gasp against his lips that he chased after hers to swallow.

     the anticipation turned desperate in her veins, one hand grabbing onto his shirt as the other snaked into his hair.

     “relax,” he ordered breathily, “i’m not going anywhere.”

     before an apology could leave her lips, he was planting his over them again, deliberate with his tongue that showed years of honed precision. it made her thighs ache, a tightening in her stomach that only ever came from fantasies conjured in her own head or words on her screen late at night.

     she was just about ready to start pleading when a knock came at the door, bucky pulling away and letting their mouths ghost against one another for a moment. her eyes had shot open, watching his slowly find their way to hers as another set of knocks sounded.

     “don’t move.”

     all she could do was nod, shivering at the loss of his heat when he stepped away to answer the door. she heard a few pleasantries, looked down her body to make sure she was still presentable, decided to toe off her shoes just as the door shut again.

     bucky came back to her with an armful of towels, pulling a quirk to her brow when he set them at the end of the bed instead of in the bathroom.

     when he stepped up to her and gently grasped her chin between his thumb and finger, the whisper on his lips sent a pang of need down through her, had her mind spinning with possibilities for the linens.

     “good girl.”

     he could see it on her face, watched it in the goosebumps that rose across her shoulders and the quick tremble to her knees, but he wanted to make sure he hadn’t gone too far too fast with her.

     “that okay?” he cooed, knuckles trailing down her neck and stopping just before her cleavage.

     “yes. please.”

     he grinned at her, tucking his finger into her top and chuckling, “have to earn it first. and i technically gave you a pass since you did move to take your shoes off.”

     she had no defense, didn’t know she would need one, that he would be so strict. wasn’t opposed to it if the flip of her stomach again was any indication.

     “it’s okay,” he smiled, slipping the mask off for a second. “i was just teasing. mostly. i don’t wanna push you into something you’re not comfortable getting pushed into.”

     nodding, she traced her eyes over his beard, stuck on the patches of salt in his sea of pepper. it made her giggle quietly to herself, thinking of the actual taste of salt she’d caught in it.

     “what’s so funny?” he smirked, planting both hands on the cinch of her waist and squeezing at the softness filling it.

     “nothing, i just... thought of something stupid.”

     “tell me,” he pressed.

     watching as a strand of his hair fell from behind his ear, she followed it to his cheek and the crinkle of his smile at his eyes. “when we were kissing just now, i could- i tasted, like, something salty from the bar, i guess. and then i laughed because... salt and pepper. your hair. you know?”

     bucky did seem to know as he laughed at her observation. “had some pretzels. i tried to wipe it clean in the bathroom, but i guess i missed a spot.”

     “no, it’s... i liked it.”

     “that right?” getting a nod from her, he gave her waist one final squeeze before spinning her in his arms. her back pressed to his chest on instinct, head falling to one side to welcome his lips again. the sight made him grant her wishes, mouth pressing just below her jaw. “good girl,” he hummed, nipping at her skin just enough to make her whine at the back of her throat.

     her toes curled into the plush of the carpet beneath them, fists tight at her sides until she mustered the courage to grab hold of his hands. his left was still chilled under hers, hard and sturdy for her to cling to.

     “wanna take these jeans off for me, sweetheart?”

     to his question, she nodded, working quickly to begin undoing her button and zipper, feeling him smirk into her neck as she shimmied them down her legs. they caught around her ankles, feet awkwardly kicking at them until they shot across the room.

     bucky’s hand came to grab her chin, turning her face toward him so he could warn against her lips, “relax. enjoy yourself.”

     to make his point, he captured her mouth, guiding her tongue to his own with languid, deliberate movements. he could feel her practically vibrating, itching to start falling into the trap of frenzied kisses and frantic touches. but he wasn’t going to allow it, enforcing as much with his hold on her chin, controlling her pace with the tightness of his grasp.

     her foot accidentally landed on top of his boot, sock slipping off the leather as she ground her ass back into him.

     bucky chuckled, allowing her more grace as he pushed her mouth off of his and drew her attention with the press of his forehead to hers. “be patient,” he stressed, “we’ve got all night.”

     the pout was quickly kissed off her lips, replaced with a gasp as he spun them so he could settle onto the bed. she fell between his legs easily, balancing on the edge of the mattress and watching as he pried open her legs, swinging her left over his. metal fingers still digging into her thigh, he slid his others to the crotch of her panties, letting out an amused hum.

     “this why you’re so eager?” he teased, tracing over the damp patch with his fingertip. another shiver shaking through her was his only answer. pulling his hand away, he curled around her further to whisper in her ear, “i’ve got something in mind i think you’ll like... wanna try it?”

     her nod wasn’t enough, metallic digits squeezing her flesh in warning. “yes,” she rasped.

     “good girl. put your hands behind your back.” upon her doing so, bucky pressed closer to trap her arms between his chest and her back before putting his hand over her eyes. “okay?”

     she nodded again, catching herself before he could correct her. “yes.”

     the weight of his metal hand left her thigh, a stillness settling around them as she focused on keeping her breathing steady. all her progress was lost the moment one of his fingers grazed across her collarbone.

     bucky felt her tremble, thighs going to clench, stopped by his own holding them open.

     the touch was gone as quickly as it came, leaving her skin prickling with anticipation of another should it come. which, of course, one did, trailing over the inside of her thigh and pulling a whimper from her. she wanted to clamp her legs together so badly, squeeze the ache of desperation from them. but all she could do was wait for the next ghost of his finger.

     down the side of her neck, across the fabric on her stomach, the fabric covering her breast, a pinch to the inside of her other thigh.

     the last one fell against the top of her panties, tracing along it under the weight of her stomach. there was a gap between the hem of her shirt and the elastic of her panties that left her belly exposed and vulnerable to her own insecurity. it was habitual when she sucked herself in as much as she could without being too obvious.

     “don’t do that,” bucky cooed, the timbre of his voice making her gasp quietly after so long in silence. another trembled out of her lips when he flattened his palm to her stomach and soothed it over her skin. “i wanna enjoy you.”

     it was enough to have her letting go, even if her face turned away from his to hide the embarrassed furrow to her brows, forgetting he could feel it under the palm of his hand. he guided her head back to center, planting his lips against her neck once more before his metal fingers snuck back to the waistband of her panties.

     he couldn’t feel how the wet patch had grown, only sensed the heat of her through it and the strain of the fabric as he pushed it into her slit.

     starting low, he ran his finger higher slowly, waiting for the telltale hitch in her breath, getting it with a bonus flinch of her thighs when he landed on her clit. he felt her arms struggle between them, wanting to break free and grab onto something but staying in place without permission to do so.

     “good girl,” he grinned into her skin, “you listen so well.”

     it was almost embarrassing how quickly she felt herself careening towards an orgasm, endless moans and whimpers falling from her lips as he worked her over through her panties. maybe it was the added friction of the cotton, but she was practically shaking in his hold.

     “so close already?” slowing his finger to a languid circle, bucky watched as her body clenched in anticipation of the climax that wasn’t going to come. “patience, sweetheart. patience.”

     his idea of patience seemed to be dragging her agonizingly to the edge, dangling her right over the precipice before pulling her back from it. it wasn’t a forceful denial, only a slow stilling of his finger, just enough pressure lingering to have her trembling and praying her release didn’t hit after the loss of a steady rhythm.

     to his credit, it never did. and he even went as far as to assure her, “i won’t ruin it like that.”

     he kept her suspended in limbo for what felt like hours, she was sure was hours, stunned when she finally caught sight of the clock on the nightstand and it had only been half of one.

     bucky had pulled his hands away, freeing her eyes to adjust back to the soft golden glow of the room, his lips at the heated skin of her neck. slowly, he helped her to her feet, standing behind her and guiding her to lie back down on the bed. it was when she tracked his path around to the other side of the bed that she saw the clock, eyes blowing wide. christ, she wasn’t going to survive the night.

     he sat down, leaning over to work at the laces of his boots before kicking them off and sitting back against the headboard. “c’mere,” he grunted, tugging at the pillows behind him to get settled.

     she crawled closer to him, slipping under his raised arm to curl against his chest. he was calm, chest deflating with a huge exhale and free hand grabbing for the television remote. she would have started overthinking, questioning his interest in her, if it weren’t for the thick bulge straining behind his jeans when she looked down.

     but bucky acted unfazed, cool and collected as he flicked through tv channels and stroked idly at her hip.

     she couldn’t take it, thighs beginning to squeeze and stomach clenching in search of the relief he never granted her.

     “you’re alright,” he assured her, hiding his smirk behind a patronizing pout.

     her hand fisted in his shirt, bunching the black cotton in frustration.

     bucky diverted his eyes, turning his attention to the tv when she gazed up at him, waiting until she looked away again to watch her once more. he used the cover of continuing to flick through channels to study the emotions flashing across her face. she was frustrated, first and foremost, but he could also see her plotting, a cute flicker of mischief gracing her features before her hand released its grip on his shirt.

     working slowly so as not to draw his suspicion, she began sliding her palm back and forth across his firm chest, giggling when he flexed one of his pecs under her touch. she went lower, testing his boundaries, his patience, and rubbing over his stomach. a little softer than his chest, still firm enough to prove his strength. a warning, if anything. but still, she pushed.

     her pinky finger was the first to meet his jeans, stretching out and tapping at the point of denim above his button. when he didn’t stop her, she felt emboldened enough to let her other fingers drop down and begin toying with his belt.

     bucky watched her tap her nails against the buckle, thankful for the thick denim that concealed the way his cock jumped under the sensation. it was cute how slick she thought she was being, so he let her have some fun.

     his shirt bunched under her when she slid her chin up to look at him, getting a short nod of his head in permission.

     with just her one hand, at such an odd angle, she struggled with the leather, going a bit shy when he dropped the remote to help her, ends of the belt falling away to either side of his hips.

     on her own again, she popped his button and slowly slid his zipper down, lips parting at the fresh sight of his boxers. it somehow seemed forbidden, exciting to slide her fingers under the elastic and traverse over the wiry hair that must match his beard and the thick trail leading down from his belly button.

     his cock was warm, a heat rivaling the one in her center soaking into her fingertips as they gingerly brushed across it. her thighs clamped together again at the size of him when she began to curl her fingers over him. she was no longer embarrassed at the black box he’d grabbed from the drugstore, now she was worried if he’d even picked ones big enough.

     bucky didn’t stop her when she sat up on her elbow, didn’t stop her when she got to her knees, either. he simply slid his hand between her thighs, giving one of them a squeeze in warning. “slow, sweetheart.”

     she nodded, but was already lost in the sight of his jeans and boxers sliding down his hips, revealing his length to her inch by inch until the head finally popped free. it bobbed up and slapped to his stomach, enticing her in with the ruddy color peeking out from his skin.

     trying her best to follow his orders, she leaned forward and took him in her hand, watching her fingers fail to meet around his shaft. she pulled his skin back carefully, eyes fluttering as she pressed her lips to his head. his scent was fresh, a lingering musk that came only naturally with his skin. it made her want to cry in relief, tongue sliding forward in her mouth to latch onto his tip.

     “easy,” he warned again, running his hand up to pinch at the pudge of her lips through her panties.

     it only made her moan in hunger, lips sealing around him to take him into her mouth, deeper and deeper until she couldn’t help the gag that constricted her throat.

     bucky sat up, bringing his hand to the back of her neck and tugging until she popped off of him. he brought her face up to his, staring at the starting of tears along her lashes.

     “i thought you were going to listen,” he taunted, cutting her off before she could make an excuse. “going to earn my praise.”

     “i-i am- i will,” she stammered, gasping when he squeezed at her neck gently.

     “so be good and listen to me.”

     nodding shakily, she whispered, “i’m sorry...”

     “no, no,” bucky cooed, sliding his grip around to her cheek. she nuzzled into his silver palm. “you don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. you just got a little eager, right?” he pulled her in as she nodded, landing a kiss to the edge of his thumb where it rested beside her lips. “still gonna be good for me, though, be my good girl?”

     “yes,” she gasped, seeking out the tickle of his beard against her cheek again when he pulled away.

     “i know you are.” with one quick, fluid movement, he had her flat on her back, hovering over her admiring the shock and awe in her gaze. “now, be good and let me treat you, birthday girl.”

     she watched as he started at her neck, leaving wet, tender flesh in his wake as he worked his way down to her chest. his hands found her waist again, holding onto her with care as if she’d shatter beneath him, lips leaving a fog of breath at the opening of her top right where her breasts were beginning to spill out of the loosened fabric.

     “you smell sweet,” he panted, bunching her top in his hands to tug on it just enough for him to plant a kiss right at the center of her chest.

     he used the cover of fabric to wipe at his mouth, masking his drool with kisses down her stomach and onto the exposed skin of her softness. she twitched under his beard, hands fisting in the plush duvet as he found her center. bucky let a gust of breath billow over her panties, nose just barely grazing her before he ducked his head to the side.

     all she could do was lie there, panting, blinking away the sting of blissful tears when she felt his tongue dig into her groin and trace a circle at the edge of her underwear. his lips sealed over it, wet smack of them when he pulled away drowned out by her throaty gasp. he mirrored the actions on her other side, humming into her skin when her hips shook from desperation.

     looking up the length of her body, he raised his head just slightly to see her reaction when he slipped his fingers into the soaked cotton of her panties, rubbing the fabric between them and his thumb.

     “bucky,” she keened, rising to her elbows just as he was lifting onto his palm, other working himself back into his boxers. she was unable to form anything but a whine of protest at the sight.

     “you okay, sweet girl?” he purred, soothing his hand over her thigh.

     her fists were tight again, knees wanting to seal her thighs tighter but kept open by his thick ones. “i just want you so bad,” she begged.

     “i know,” he cooed, continuing to rub at her thigh, slowly creeping it up to her hip. “you’ll get me, i promise.”

     bringing both hands to wrap around her panties, he began peeling them down, taking them into one hand to raise her legs with the other. they slid off her ankles and into his palm easily, his lips finding the smooth skin of each leg while he looked to her again. she was watching him, eyebrows knitted and gaze sweet, almost vulnerable.

     setting both of her legs down to one side of his hips, he crawled up her, dropping in to press their lips together heatedly. her elbows gave out, crashing her down into the pillows as bucky followed after her.

     tongue teasing her own with the faintest brush, he pulled back again, earning another petulant whine.

     “have you ever ruined a pair like this before?” he smirked, holding her panties up and watching how she shook her head without sparing them a glance. laughing, he brought them closer. “how can you tell if you won’t look?”

     staring at him pleadingly, she forced her eyes to the fabric when he didn’t budge. the strip of darker cotton stared back at her. “no,” she swore, “never.”

     bucky hummed and wrapped the damp patch around his fingers, snaking his hand down her body with a grin. he worked the fabric between her lips, dropping his forehead onto hers. “ruin them more,” he rasped, “show me how bad you want it.”

     to test his meaning, she ground her hips onto his hand, getting a nod of approval. her thighs parted on instinct, one of them swinging over his for better leverage.

     “oh, good girl,” he gushed, stroking his metal knuckles down the side of her face.

     the praise made her eyes flutter, lips falling open in a moan of half pleasure, half exertion. she kept a pace with her hips, trying to find his fingers at just the right angle each time. they grew frantic and sloppy, losing rhythm with each second she drew closer and closer to the orgasm he’d taunted her with.

     “pl-please,” she whimpered, taking his shirt in her grasp as he pressed his fingers firmer to her core.

     bucky watched her writhe and pant for a moment longer, savoring the way her chest heaved with each breath. “go ahead, sweetheart, i’ll let you cum now.”

     she was near sobbing at the pressure building from the friction of soaked cotton against her clit, overwhelmed from the strength of it building alone.

     “you wanna show me how good you are, don’t you?” he cooed.

     she shook under him, straining out, “yes.”

     “so show me. cum for me like a good girl.”

     mouth falling open in a silent moan, she tensed with the first shock of release to her system, a harsh inhale leading into a groan when it captured her body entirely.

     “that’s it,” bucky marveled, feeling her gush against the panties in his hold and kissing her temple. “so good for me.”

     a cry ripped through her, hips and legs trembling through the last waves of bliss that washed over her. as it settled out of her, bucky’s fingers doing the same, she seized tighter, curling against his chest further. bucky pulled his hand off of her, watching as her thighs clamped at the burst of overstimulation. he stuffed her panties into the front pocket of his jeans carefully, smiling at her as she gasped her way back to earth.

     “how does it feel?” he asked, bringing his bare finger to slip between her slit gently. “too sensitive?”

     her head shook despite the way the touch made her jerk under it.

     “good.”

     because he wasted no time sliding back down the bed to settle between her damp thighs, mouth buried in her before she could even catch her breath from the first orgasm.

     at the first taste, bucky fell onto his biceps, groaning into her as his arms slid up to frame her hips, hands finding her waist again. her feet brushed along his shoulders, one slipping off metal so her thigh came to rest against the side of his head.

     bucky started with lazy circles around her entrance, enjoying the breathy sounds she made under his attention, enjoying the endless flow of her on his tongue more. he was allowing himself to be greedy for a moment, letting her soak into his beard to linger for as long as possible.

     uncurling from the duvet, her hands went to his forearms, squeezing at the taut flesh and metal. she made the mistake of lifting her head, immediately dropping it back down with a moan at the sight of bucky’s eyes locked on her from over her mound and stomach. he seemed to take pleasure in her embarrassment, fingers digging into her sides as he brushed his lips upwards, huffing a small laugh against her.

     his tongue dragged in a slow ring around where she wanted him, heat of his breath causing her thighs to twitch with need. again and again he taunted her, drawing closer to her clit but not quite reaching her. not until he felt her toes prodding into his flank and heard her voice come wrecked and anguished.

     “please, bucky...”

     with a hum, he finally lapped over her bud, keeping his agonizing pace to make sure she began to shake in his hold. “that’s it, baby,” he breathed against her, “be patient.”

     fuck patience, she wanted to scream, biting into her lip to keep it from escaping.

     as he began working her over, she felt his arm slipping from her grasp, his hairs tickling under her palm before it was gone altogether. taking up the duvet again, she braced for what she assumed was coming.

     bucky tortured her some more, raking his knuckles up her thigh as he sealed his lips against her and sucked on her flesh enough to have her hips jumping. his hand came back down, pawing at the meat of her thigh, her hip, dipping underneath to squeeze her ass before finally sliding around and flattening against her groin. he pushed at it, metal thumb stroking over her waist as she started to moan louder, climax drawing closer.

     his lips popped off her, twisting her moan into a cry before his fingers finally dipped into her slit. they went in easily, pulling back out coated in her slick as he toyed with her more.

     he was driving her up the wall, fucking his fingers into her just enough and then not at all, curling them softly to graze her sweet spot and then dragging them away. all while pointing his tongue to trace up and down her clit, alternating between gentle licks and the suction of his lips. her chest had begun to ache with the heavy pants leaving it, palms growing stiff from how hard she clung to his forearm and the bedding.

     when he pushed back in and curled into her sweet spot and didn’t pull back, she almost cried with relief, did let out a broken noise that would have made her recoil in shame if she weren’t so desperate. he kept a rhythm against it, pounding the pads of his fingers into it with enough force to have his knuckles hitting against her entrance.

     faster and faster, the tension built, muscles going tight in anticipation of it. she couldn’t help the babble of incoherence that began tumbling from her lips.

     “please, please, please, fu- ah! yes! please...”

     the edges of her nerves burned, first kindling of her orgasm sparking just before everything came to a halt.

     “no, no, no, please!” she begged, “please, i’ll- i’ll be so good, please-”

     “relax, sweetheart,” bucky breathed, sucking his fingers into his mouth as he stood up from the bed. “thought you wanted me so bad.”

     breathing still ragged, she watched as he reached over his head to pull his shirt off. dog tags sat between his pecs, thick patch of hair leading up and blooming into a full dusting across his chest. like the rest of him, it was dark gray with patches of white spreading through it. her thighs clamped at the sight.

     watching her carefully, bucky shucked his jeans off, boxers following before he stroked himself a few times. an amused smirk spread across his face as she shakily rolled herself onto her hands and knees, back arching deep enough to have him throbbing in his fist.

     “where do you think you’re going?” he purred, reaching his metal hand out to grab at her hip and throw her onto her back again. “i wanna see your face, pretty girl.”

     again, her legs clamped, shaking as she stretched out to relieve some tension. the force behind his grip had been so strong, so controlled, catching her around her knee at the last second so she didn’t roll too far.

     fixing her with a look of warning, he grabbed at one of the towels still folded at the end of the bed, snapping it out and draping it over the duvet. one after the other he laid them out, two across and two high, disappearing into the bathroom to grab the other set and spread those out, too. the implication alone had her ready to fall apart.

     with a pat to the top layer, he ordered her, “right here. on your back.”

     ignoring the almost painful ache in her core at his voice, she carefully settled herself atop the padding of linens, checking on all sides to make sure she was centered.

     “good girl,” he beamed, satisfied with her obedience. grabbing a pillow from over her head, he folded it in half, testing its durability before snaking his metal arm under her knees and using the hold to lift her hips off the bed. she trembled in his hold, sighing out when he lowered her onto the pillow carefully placed under her hips. folding her legs up closer to her chest, bucky leaned in and cupped her cheek in his warm palm, bringing their lips together languidly, his dog tags dangling and grazing over her chest. “everything still okay?”

     “mhm,” she nodded, trying not to fall apart at the taste of herself on his beard.

     “wanna take this off?” he asked, tugging at the sleeve of her top. when she hesitated, he leaned in to capture her mouth again, licking his way in until she whimpered around his tongue. “not yet? that’s alright. i can be patient.”

     he winked at her when he pulled back, grabbing the black box off the nightstand before crawling up onto the bed and moving her legs to either side of him. sitting back on his haunches, he pried into it, looking up at her with a quirk in his brow.

     “you look disappointed,” he smirked, tearing open the little foil packet as she watched. rolling the condom onto himself, he slid his hand up her thigh and crawled over her. “were you hoping i’d take you raw?”

     only half listening, she nodded, too busy staring at his head sliding up toward her stomach like a preview of what was to come.

     bucky chuckled at her, dropping to his elbow over her and dragging himself through her slit. “dirty little girl,” he whispered at her ear, smirking when she shivered at the feel of metal dropping to slide up her chest from his. “bet you could feel yourself dripping all the way down to the sheets, huh?”

     again, she nodded, hips instinctively pushing up in search of him. it worked, getting him to poke at her entrance just enough to tease the delicious burn his size would bring.

     “you like taking it from behind? that why you got on your knees so fast?”

     “yeah,” she swallowed.

     bucky hummed, eyes never leaving her as she continued staring down between them in awe. “feels good like that, doesn’t it?”

     she didn’t know how many more nods she had left in her, practically crying once he began pushing his head into her.

     “will you indulge me just this once?” he laughed breathily, “i’m a little old-fashioned, i like looking at my girl.” and when he slid in halfway with one fluid motion, the sight of her head falling back, eyes glassy and almost crossing from the pressure, he marveled, “and that’s why.”

     she saw him staring down at her as he continued pushing in, his eyes only leaving hers to stare at her lips when they fell open around a moan of burning pleasure.

     “feel alright, sweetheart?”

     “yes,” she gasped, nearly choking on it as he seemed to go on forever.

     bucky kept his breath steady as he finally bottomed out, jaw tight from the way his cock jumped within her walls. letting her adjust, he stayed there a moment, admiring the way her lipstick still hadn’t moved but her mascara had run onto the corners of her eyes. bringing his hand to her waist, metal knuckles stroking down her cheek, he marveled, “you are so beautiful.”

     the ache between her thighs wasn’t enough to keep her from going shy under the compliment, lips trembling as she turned her face away.

     “hey,” he scolded softly, “what happened to being good for me? good girls don’t hide, good girls say thank you.” dragging his hips back slightly, he watched her eyes roll in her head again, a look coming across her face like she had slipped away into another world. it made him grin with a sense of pride. “sweetheart, i wanna hear you say thank you.”

     “tha- thank you, da- bucky...”

     that really had her going shy, haze of pleasure clearing from her slip-up.

     “oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, pushing back in as deep as he could to watch her brows knit in delirium. “do you wanna call me that?”

     forcing herself to meet his gaze, she blinked up at him nervously, finding her voice enough to whisper out, “yes...”

     bucky leaned in to plant his lips over her forehead, kissing away the wrinkle between her brows. “it’s okay,” he assured her, “you can if you’re comfortable.” another slow withdrawal from her walls, his lips trailing down her nose to her lips, leaving a small peck to them before he pushed in again. “go on, try it out.”

     her heart was pounding behind her ribs, hands gingerly coming up to press to his shoulders. when bucky’s nose nudged against hers in encouragement, she took a deep breath and moaned quietly, “please... daddy.”

     humming in satisfaction, bucky kissed at the corner of her lips. “please what, sweet girl?”

     swallowing thickly, she tried to form a thought through another agonizing thrust. “want you...” keening defeatedly, she dug her fingers into him, thighs sliding up his hips. “i just want you. i want you everywhere. so badly.”

     “yeah?” he grinned, hooking his metal thumb under her jaw to tilt her head up. she attempted a nod, moaning into his ear as he started up a slow rhythm. “wanna know what i want?”

     “yes,” she whined, eyes rolling back again from the feel of him nudging against her sweet spot after he’d abused it right to the edge of climax.

     “i wanna see you fall apart on my cock,” he grunted, “just like this, all spread out for me. and when you can’t take it anymore, i’ll flip you over, fuck you from behind how you like.”

     her moans grew higher and more stunted, bucky fucking into her harder and causing her body to slide up the mattress with each thrust. she felt herself slipping off the pillow, pulled back by his hand yanking at the laces of her top. the chain of his tags was bouncing off her skin, tags themselves rattling against the sheets where they fell over her shoulder.

     “then, i wanna make you gush, have you screaming for me, soaking the whole bed. can you do that for me? hm? be a good girl and let me fuck it out of you?”

     “mn- i don’t... i- hah...”

     “don’t know if you can?” he laughed, slipping his knees up higher to gain more leverage to pound down into her. “you can scream for me, though, can’t you?”

     she nodded, nearly crashing their skulls together as she jerked forward from one of his thrusts, the way it hit her at just the right angle.

     “what are you gonna scream when i fuck you that good?” he goaded, working himself closer to a brutal pace, watching her lose every ounce of control she had left. “huh, baby? tell me what you’re gonna scream when i make you leak all over my cock.”

     “daddy,” she gasped, crown digging into the mattress and baring her throat to him.

     “good girl.”

     bucky took up her offering, tucking his face into her neck and running his lips along the column of it as he finally began to fuck into her properly. the clap of their skin echoed off the hotel walls, mixing together with their labored breaths and desperate groans. he couldn’t help but admire the snap to her skin when he tugged it between his teeth and let it bounce back against her muscles, supple and smooth all over. he’d worry about his own perversions later, too occupied with the way her walls began to suck him in.

     “fuck,” he sneered, arm whirring as he punched down into the pillows over their heads, coming to hover just above her face, their noses bumping together with his momentum. “love taking care of you, sweetheart. that’s what you deserve, inside and outside these walls. want that, don’t you? want me to take care of you, hm? make you feel good all the time?”

     he was rambling, only half aware of it, fully lost in the wet heat of her wrapped around him and the sight of her eyes clamping shut, tears squeezing out through her ruined lashes. bucky dropped down to kiss at them, his lips skidding down to her cheek, panting hotly against her skin as his nose wiped through the moisture along her eyes.

     she moaned under him, barely conscious of her hands falling to push at the chest of her top, exposing her breasts to the searing air between them.

     bucky grunted again, animalistic as his lips smashed onto hers and pried them open wide enough to force his tongue into her mouth. his hand left her waist, arm snaking under it to pull her closer to him and have his wiry chest scraping across her nipples. she sobbed into his mouth, one hand finding his bicep as the other clawed onto his side.

     “can you cum from just my cock?” he panted, barely leaving enough room between their lips for the words to come out.

     she had to find breaks in his kisses to gasp out her own response, huffing, “i don’t know.”

     “christ,” he heaved, “you poor thing... play with yourself for me, i want you to cum on my cock, baby.” he felt her move to follow his orders, lifting his torso so she had room to get an arm between them.

     but at the loss of his heat, loss of friction to her nipples, she shook her head frantically and pulled him back.

     “think you can do it, baby?” he marveled, “think you can cum with just my cock?”

     “n-yes!”

     her walls clamped around him, tight enough to make him hiss through his teeth. “oh, you’re so close, aren’t you?” he cooed, “wanna cum for me?”

     “yes! please!”

     “go on, sweetheart, cum for me. cum for daddy.”

     he barely got the word out before she was sucking him in and trembling under him with the force of her orgasm, gasping and moaning against his lips. bucky kept his pace through the vise of her walls, neck straining and jaw clenching.

     “fuck, that’s it, baby. good girl, good fuckin’ girl...”

     his voice faded into a ringing, vision going white under the pressure that kept mounting with each ram of his cock against her sweet spot.

     bucky sensed her slipping into overstimulation, could feel her heart pounding in her chest beneath his. he began slowing his pace as he kissed at her jaw and cheeks, lips coming to rest on her forehead again. “sh, sweet girl,” he soothed, breath fogging over her already damp skin. “you did so good... perfect for me.”

     her hands clung to him, pulling him closer despite there being nowhere for him to go, their chests flush and heaving against each other.

     “daddy...”

     “i’m here, i got you.”

     what he thought was a plea for comfort quickly turned into a lascivious taunt, her thighs clamping around his hips to force him deeper, eyelashes batting at him when he pulled away from her forehead.

     “more,” she breathed wantonly.

     staring down at her, bucky watched the hazy, almost distant look in her eyes grow needier.

     bringing his lips down close to hers, he sneered, “then get on your knees.”

     he pulled out, ignoring her moan of disappointment at the emptiness, letting her struggle to roll herself over and rise up on her shaky legs. just to watch her flounder, he shoved his hips forward into hers, chuckling as she nearly collapsed under the force.

     metal hand clamping onto her hip, he pulled her up, warmth of his other smoothing along her ass, pushing at the flesh to spread her open for him. as she arched her back to give him better access, he smirked to himself. he was right, she had dripped all down herself.

     the pillow beneath her hips had uncurled when she rolled over, pressed down into the mattress under the weight of her chest. bucky did the same to her, draping himself over her so he could cradle her stomach in his hand and kiss across her shoulders, slowly scraping his beard down the brief expanse of skin along her back and continuing his kisses over the laces of her top. his tags trailed behind him, cooling her heated skin after the brand of his lips.

     she felt him reach her lower back, kisses turning to sloppy, open-mouthed presses of lips that ended in an imprint of his teeth on her ass.

     her whole body tensed under the sting, shaking out into a shiver when he crawled back up over her, lips landing beside her ear.

     “okay?”

     she nodded enthusiastically, gasping out, “yes.”

     “good girl.” his hand grabbed hold of himself, head of his cock slipping and sliding against her slit as he tried to force it back to her entrance. “tell daddy what you want.”

     her thighs shook, throat bobbing as she swallowed thickly to try and clear her voice enough to speak. “your c- your cock. want daddy’s cock.”

     bucky hummed, dipping his tip into her before pulling it back out and teasing it up and down her slit. “that all you want, baby?”

     his teeth nipped at her jaw, forcing a strained groan from her, hips pushing back into his but stopped by the grip of his metal hand. “ruin me,” she exhaled harshly, “make- make me leak all over your cock, daddy, please. i wanna be good for you.”

     the quiet of the room went on just long enough for her back to go rigid under his chest before he pressed his mouth to her ear and rasped, “good girl.”

     there wasn’t even a moment between him finally pushing in and him beginning to fuck her with a force he hadn’t exerted over her yet, punching stunted moans out of her with each thrust. her eyes went wide at first, hands pushing out into the pillows in front of her to try and keep from tumbling into them. bucky reached up to capture her wrists in his hold, arm whirring beside her ear. she squealed under the strength of his grasp.

     “you daddy’s good girl? hm?” he gritted, watching her gasp through her nod. “just like getting fucked like a little whore?”

     her eyes squeezed shut again, stomach flipping under the venom on his tongue. “yes!”

     bucky dragged her wrists down, planting them firmly beneath the pillow tucked to her chest. “yeah?” she began to nod again, stopped at the sudden press of his metal palm to her throat. “this okay, baby?”

     the speed at which she nodded was almost embarrassing as she whined out, “yes, please.”

     his fingers tightened slowly, using the motion of his hips slamming into hers to push her further into his grasp. he felt her pulse throbbing beneath her skin, every hitch in her breath and vibration of her moans bouncing off the titanium and sending signals up into his brain, warning him if he was starting to go too far.

     “nobody knows how to make you feel this good,” he bit, using his hips to take out the frustration of having to watch her spend night after night sitting with some loser, leaving the bar disappointed and dejected when he could have been giving her everything. “only daddy, right?”

     “yes, daddy,” she gasped, “only you.”

     “that’s right. that’s why you’re gonna soak this fuckin’ bed, aren’t you? gonna cum for daddy like he wants?”

     “yes, yes, yes, yes...”

     he cut her off with a particularly harsh ram of his cock into her, grinning at the stunned noise it forced out of her and the way it made his dog tags slip off her sticky skin and curl around her own neck. “you better,” he warned, “otherwise, i’m fucking you until i get what i want from this pussy.”

     the moan she let out was so loud and thick, it burned her throat, almost echoing off his hand around it.

     bucky gave her neck a squeeze, listening as her breath grew thinner. “whose is it? whose pussy is this?” to make it that much harder on her, his other hand snuck under her and went straight for her clit.

     a sob wheezed out of her, lungs burning and legs trembling, only thing keeping her up his hold on her. “yours!” she strained, gasping when he loosened his hold on her throat. “it’s yours, daddy, i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours...”

     bucky grunted into her shoulder, leaving a searing kiss on her skin and collecting the salt off of it in the process. the sweat between them was getting so hot, dripping off his temples and rushing down his neck from his scalp. he felt it every time a pocket of air was able to form between them and send a chill through both of them.

     “who’s my good girl?” he groaned, using every ounce of self-restraint not to crumble under the tightness of her walls as he forced her further and further into oblivion.

     “i’m your good girl.”

     “so give it to me, baby. give daddy what he wants.”

     she knew what he meant, felt it wanting to burst out of her onto the bed of towels he’d laid, chased off by the mental block of needing to keep a sensation like that from happening outside the appropriate setting. she gripped the duvet so tight her knuckles ached, panting down toward the pillow with a grimace on her face from the pressure.

     bucky felt her stomach seizing against his wrist, pressing his finger to her clit harder before tutting, “good girls don’t fight it.”

     “wait- wait, fuck!” she screamed breathily, gasping as he stilled his hips to a firm halt and pulled his hands away.

     “what? what’s the matter? too much?” to try and calm her ragged breathing, he soothed his hand across her stomach, kissing at the side of her face.

     “i don’t think i can do it.”

     “do what, sweetheart?”

     squeezing her eyes in shame, she whispered, “what you want.”

     “i want a lot of things,” bucky chuckled breathlessly, taking the moment to collect himself, too.

     whimpering in frustration, she pulled the pillow closer to her. “my body is- is, like... not letting me... let go.”

     “it will,” he cooed, “i’ll give it no choice but to let go.”

     that had her eyes rolling back, the pressure of him still buried in her growing harder and harder to ignore. “fuck...”

     kissing the back of her neck, bucky continued soothing at her stomach. “we can stop.”

     “no!” she exclaimed, swallowing to regain her composure. “please, no.”

     bucky’s nostrils flared when she pushed back onto him, as if he could even go any deeper than the home he’d made for himself in her guts.

     her neck strained as she turned it to look at him pleadingly. “i wanna be good for you...”

     he took a deep breath to level his head before kissing her cheek. “you have already been so perfect for me. if we stopped right here, i’d be over the moon.” the little smile that came across her face made his chest ache, so soft and vulnerable, laid bare for him beneath the heat in her eyes. “but you don’t want to stop, do you?”

     “no,” she said quickly, again trying to push herself onto him.

     “trust me?” he hummed.

     maybe it was stupid given the timeframe, but... “yes.”

     his lips left one final kiss to her cheek before trailing to her ear to whisper, “let me fuck it out of you.”

     sliding her hand over to take hold of his metal one, she gave him one final nod. “okay.”

     bucky didn’t waste a second, falling right back into his rough pace and dropping his hand to zero his finger onto her clit, syncing it up with his thrusts. hard and fast and immediately causing them both to moan in relief. hers had puffed into her pillow where her head fell forward, all her focus going to trying to relax enough to let the tight pressure mounting within her again take over.

     “lift your head, baby, you promised you’d scream for me.”

     her free hand scrunched at the pillow to prop her chin up on it, guttural moan ripping out of her the second she did. because she felt it, the small heat that dripped from her, almost indistinguishable from the burn of stimulation against her clit.

     “that’s it, baby, come on.”

     the slight trickle had sent a rush of hopeful depravity through him, goading him to keep at his pace, pushed to up it by the rush against his own clock. maturity had only given him so much more stamina, and it didn’t help that he was already on the verge of blowing as soon as she’d sat down next to him.

     “give it to me,” he grated, groaning along with her at the feel of more leaking out of her on his last thrust. her moans were growing frantic, primal. somewhere during the evening, she’d dropped the slight hitch of practiced performance and lost herself in the undeniable allure of natural pleasure that came from completely handing herself over to him. it made bucky throb within her walls. “soak daddy’s cock like a good little whore.”

     she practically screamed, choking out whatever sound came up through her lungs as she clamped around him and felt herself gush like he’d wanted, spurting onto her own thighs and the towels under them. it was one forceful stream before lighter ones were punched out of her with each of his thrusts. it was hot all over, inside and out, seizing her stomach up almost into a cramp from the force of her orgasm.

     “oh, my god!” she wailed, fist straining around his hand and nearly ripping through the pillow under her chin. “daddy! fu- fuck, fuck... oh, my god, daddy, please!”

     “that’s it,” bucky ground out, listening to his hand cut through her juices as he abused her clit, slick sounds of his cock pounding in and out of her enough to make his balls begin to tighten in anticipation. “let everyone know who you’re cumming for, who’s making you fuckin’ drench this bed... who owns you.”

     “daddy, daddy, daddy, plea- please,” she babbled as he fucked her through the orgasm, barreling her toward overstimulation. “please cum, please cum, please, ple- ah! fuck, please, daddy!”

     her voice grew breathless and desperate, going straight to his cock, making the most sinful of thoughts swarm his brain.

     fuck the fucking condom, and fuck whatever bullshit sense of responsibility made him buy the god damn thing.

     “want it, baby?” he growled into her neck, “you want daddy’s cum deep inside your little pussy? gonna let me fuck you raw and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore next time?”

     “yes! god, please! i want it so ba- so bad, daddy. i’ll do anything, just- ah... please, please...”

     she was nearly gritting her teeth, punch of him into her sweet spot making her begin to see stars at the edge of her vision, feet kicking to try and escape the overstimulation she had no real desire to get away from.

     “fuck, baby, fuck...” a lilt hit bucky’s voice as he began to crack, heavy groan ripping up his throat when his spine went taut with release. he could feel it flooding the condom, a heat surrounding him tightly as he buried himself as deep as he could go inside her. “shit, fuck... that’s it, baby, taking it all. making daddy cum so hard, fuck!”

     “daddy,” she squeaked, shaking under him at the press of him to her deepest point, bordering on painful and making it that much hotter.

     “fuck, sweetheart, taking everything for me...” he began to mumble into her neck, lips pecking between his words as he fought to catch his breath, grinding his last few ropes out of himself. “wanna cum in you so bad, baby...”

     “please...”

     they both were panting heavily, shaking against one another, bucky’s lips almost stuck to her neck from the heat of their skin as he murmured, “i will, i promise.”

     when she started to give out under him, bucky moved to wrap his arm under her waist, pulling them to the side so they wouldn’t collapse on the damp towels.

     “jesus fucking christ,” he blew into the back of her neck, both of them still panting and listening to their hearts thudding in their ears. the extent to which he’d taken his dirty talk caught up with him, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he stroked his fingers along her arm, lips placing kisses to her neck. “you still with me?”

     all she could muster was a soft grunt, hand still fisted in the sheets and legs ever so slightly trembling from exertion.

     “you were amazing,” bucky hummed, “you are amazing.” planting his lips against her skin again, he moved his hand carefully to slide between them, cradling her with his other as he pulled his softening length from her. she whined at the friction, soothing under his hot kisses. “you’re alright.”

     the weight of the condom was familiar to him, didn’t faze him as he moved his hands as far from her as he could to tie it off.

     “oh, my god,” she breathed, starting to shake from laughter as she covered her eyes.

     bucky couldn’t hold in his own chuckle. “not gonna be so funny when all that is inside you.”

     “oh, my god.”

     “i’m kidding,” he hummed, tossing the offending object onto the towels. “sort of.”

     somewhere along the way, she’d caught her breath again, managing to maneuver in his arms and turn to face him, carefully moving his dog tags from where they were still wrapped around her neck. even if facing him really meant tucking her face into his chest.

     bucky laughed breathily at her, wrapping the arm underneath her around her back and reaching to stroke her cheek with his metal knuckles. the affection drew her out from her hiding spot, hooded eyes finding his. he looked over her face, thumb reaching to slide along her bottom lip. “that is some lipstick you’ve got on.”

     she giggled under his touch, shoulder shrugging to try and hide. “it’s a tint, it’s meant to stay on like that.”

     “oh, yeah? think it would last through my birthday?” with a grin and a quirk of his brow, he watched her catch the implication, her eyes rolling playfully. bucky went back to stroking her cheek gently, studying her face for any sign of regret. “was all that alright? too much?”

     “no, no, it was good,” she asserted, “really good.”

     “i didn’t scare you with all that ‘whore’, ‘who owns you?’ stuff, right?”

     twirling one of her fingers through a patch of white hairs between his pecs, she shook her head. “i was not scared. at all. i... liked it.”

     bucky’s grin grew wider, his fingers tucking under her chin to draw her closer to him. “yeah?” he purred, watching her nod shyly. “mm, good.” a gentle peck of their lips, and then he fixed her with a serious look. “really, though... happy birthday, sweetheart. i hope i made up for everything even a little.”

     rubbing at his chest again, she smiled and laughed softly. “you made it perfect.”

     “perfect day... for a perfect girl...”

     his words fell into her mouth, their lips slotting together as she snuck her arms around his neck. bucky tugged her closer, hand leaving her chin to wrap around her elbow and graze up and down the length of her arm. she sighed against him, fingers finding the errant strand of hair that was falling into their eyes and moving to tuck it back behind his ear.

     “i like that,” he hummed, lips never leaving hers.

     “what?”

     he continued to peck at her through his words. “when you play with my hair. you did it earlier, too.”

     to satisfy his words, she ran her fingers through his silvery strands, scratching her nails against his scalp gently. the noise of appreciation he made rumbled on her lips, causing her to smile against his.

     his hand worked its way back up her arm again, squeezing around her shoulder before it slid down to her waist, curling against the fabric of her top.

     sighing contentedly, she eased back from him, eyes fluttering open to find his already locked onto her.

     “so...” she drawled.

     “so...” bucky mimicked playfully, beaming at her. “have the room ’til morning.”

     getting a glint in her eye, she ran her hand up his gray chest again. “can you... well...”

     “excuse me?” he hissed, pinching at her waist and ass with both hands. “i’m in my prime, you little brat. just... gimme half an hour. or so.” the glint turned to laughter, her sock-clad feet rubbing along his shins. “my mouth still works in the meantime, though.”

     staring at him, specifically his mouth, she sputtered out, “i-i think i need half an hour or so, too.”

     bucky laughed, rubbing at her hip in an attempt to apologize for the ache she must feel between them. “want to get room service? take a shower? a nap?”

     “all of the above maybe.”

     “you read my mind,” he groaned, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “need some protein to keep up with you.”

     she giggled again, curling around his waist and listening to him read off the hotel menu, chiming in when she heard something that sounded good.

     as he rattled off their list on the phone, she perked up at the mention of two slices of cake and a candle. turning her chin to look at him, she suddenly found the strength to crawl up onto her hands and knees, their eyes meeting heatedly as she sat herself in his lap. feigning innocence, she watched her own fingers twirl the ball chain around his neck, tugging it just slightly.

     “can i also get a few sets of towels?”

     there was a muffled response on the other end of the phone before he thanked them and set it back in the cradle.

     “what’s this?” he taunted, squinting his eyes at her.

     wiggling her hips to taunt him back, she stared at the gray of his beard, the lines around his eyes and stricken across his forehead. “half hour is up,” she declared.

     “oh, really?” he smirked, already feeling himself stir back to life beneath her ass.

     “mhm.”

     going to set the hotel menu back on the nightstand, he froze when she jumped forward to grab the black box beside her purse, fingers wrapping over it tightly before tossing it onto the floor. bucky quirked a brow at her, amused smile on his lips as he held up the paper in his hand and waved it back and forth.

     “oh.”

     “yeah,” he snorted, “oh.” with careful precision, he set the menu down and turned back to her, sitting forward and grabbing her chin in his hand to breathe against her ear, “on your stomach.”

     eagerly, she did so, climbing off of him to grab at her pillow of choice and tuck it beneath her hips as she splayed herself prone for him.

Ruffled, sleep mussed, dark brown hair. Slightly squinted, soft, deep blue eyes. A white sleep shirt that loosely clung to the hard ridges of a muscled body. Grey sweatpants that hung dangerously low and showed the shape of him if you stared longer than was appropriate.

And, god, the low, husky voice that you could feel rumble through your body from metres away. The slender, strong, veiny hands that didn't hesitate to grab the box slipping from yours. The pink lips that stretched into an easy smile, pearly white teeth dazzling and rendering you speechless for a minute.

The heat that crawled up your back was instant—your body reacting to your new roommate before you even knew his name.

Attractive men existed, you knew that. The bar you worked at had handfuls of them come in every night, some that even flashed you a flirty smile with interest in their eyes. But you didn't live with any of them—you didn't see them when they were half-awake, their rough edges softened by sleep and early morning light.

He introduced himself as James Barnes, but he requested you call him Bucky—"only my ma calls me James"—, and mentioned he worked as a physiotherapist at the VA.

He was quick to put the box in your new room, running out to the curb to grab the rest of your belongings from the rental van. You stood near the entrance, frozen in shock. Words failed you, your brain failed you—the only thing you could think about was the shift of his back muscles beneath his shirt as he hauled boxes through the door. It was an intoxicating sight, one you didn't even know would affect you.

You quickly came to learn that the problem was Bucky—everything he did had an intoxicating effect on you.

The smile he flashed you as he handed you your morning coffee, the wink he tossed your way when he took your side in your weekly movie night debate with Sam, his laughs that you could hear through your shared wall when he gamed with his friends.

His laughter was one of the most intoxicating things about him. There were the low, deep huffs when he was tired. The louder, harsher ones when he was caught by surprise. Then your favourite—the long, slightly breathless giggles that crinkled the corner of his eyes and had his nose scrunching. Every time you were blessed with them, you could only think about how cute he looked. It made him even more attractive, and you even more infatuated.

When your friend and roommate said that she was going to move into her partner's apartment once your lease was up, the first thing you felt was dread. You didn't know anyone who was looking for a room, nor did you know anyone who was looking for a roommate. The last thing you wanted was to move in with a stranger—having already lived with complete strangers in the past you could not say it was a pleasant experience. Your friend—an absolute angel—was quick to tell you that a coworker at her law firm was looking for a roommate, and she assured you that Nat would not break into your room and steal your jewellery like your first ever roommate did.

While you weren't exactly ecstatic to move in with four best friends, Nat had quickly won you over when you met for coffee. You sat down feeling like a complete contrast to her—sporting an old sweatshirt over your sweaty work uniform while she was in a creaseless emerald pantsuit. But she made you feel completely at ease—offering up embarrassing college stories about her and the guys, asking you about yourself and actually seeming interested, talking about the brownstone with so much adoration in her voice you couldn't help but love it already.

You felt awkward living with the close knit friends at first—shuffling on your feet as the four of them lounged on the couches, pulling at the loose threads on your sweater as you sat and listened to them bicker.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for you to find your place in the group. Sam played a big part—his teasing and infectious personality making you feel at home within a week. He didn't let you retreat into yourself; he pestered you with a mix of random and personal questions—"what extinct animal do you most identify with" followed by "what was your first heartbreak"—, teased you about your cooking (to which he always stole a mouthful), and was just warm—and yeah, slightly chaotic.

Nat and Steve quickly became one of your favourite couples. They weren't heavy on the PDA—unless red wine was involved—and they balanced each other out perfectly. She was loud, he was quiet. After a few too many on a night out she was ready to start a fight with any asshole who dared to look her way, and he was there to gently steer her away by the shoulders and remind her it wasn't worth ruining her fresh manicure.

Despite having some opposite traits, they were both incredibly kind and comforting people—truly living up to their titles of being the household's mom and dad. Nat was there for you after your gruelling shifts, holding either a glass of wine or mug of hot chocolate. Steve was the one knocking on your door with a bowl of soup and bag of medicine when you had the flu.

And then there was Bucky. He was just as kind, a good middle between Sam's chaotic nature and Steve's quiet one, and he made you feel seen.

Uncomfortably so.

He was the one next to you during social gatherings, gently nudging his shoulder against yours in a silent check in. He was the one suggesting fresh air when your breathing picked up incrementally. He was the one staring at you like he was captivated, sitting forward as you rambled about your niche interests.

Bucky noticed you, paid attention to you, like no one else had in your life.

He remembered what mugs you liked, making sure to use one of them when he made you both coffee—he remembered that too, the way you liked your coffee made. He bought you more body wash when you complained about running out but not having time to go to the shop before your shift. He sat next to you as you rewatched your comfort shows for the fifth time, asking questions like he was genuinely interested—a welcome contrast to Sam's mocking comments.

Each day he was in your life, looking at you like you were worth knowing, was just another day you fell deeper.

And then there were the moments. There weren't many, only a handful, but they were burned into your memory.

The first was when you came back after brunch with old friends, wearing a white sundress that made you feel pretty.

Bucky was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while eating an apple. You smiled in greeting as you walked in, grabbing a glass to fill with water. You sneaked a side glance at him like you always do when he's in the same room as you, catching his eyes already on you—drifting from the bottom of your dress up to your chest. You watched his adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed.

"That's a nice dress, sweetheart."

Goosebumps erupted across your skin at his low drawl, a warmth spreading in your core from the pet name. He had never called you that before.

He pushed off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, acting like those five words hadn't changed your whole day—your whole life.

Where once you thought the dress was pretty, you now saw it as a lifeline—tethering you to the hope that Bucky might just like you back. You found reasons to wear it more often; making an effort to hang out in the common spaces when you came back home wearing it, delaying changing into your comfortable clothes because Bucky wasn't home yet and you wanted him to see it. To see you.

The second moment was when the five of you were at a birthday party for one of Sam's army buddies.

Nat and Steve had left after only being there for half an hour—Nat giggling to you on their way out, telling you and the boys to hold off on coming back home for a couple of hours. Sam was in the lounge with a large crowd hanging on to his every word as he retold his war hero stories— to which Bucky was quick to throw you a look, raising his hands to mimic being strangled, making you laugh and receive dagger eyes from Sam.

The two of you made your way outside towards the game of beer pong being set up. Bucky was quick to accept their offer to join in and that's how you found yourself standing opposite him, a sticky fold out table between you—the ping pong ball in your hand shaking, your breath catching as his lips tilted into a smirk. His eyes were as dark as the sky, the moonlight making them twinkle with their own constellations—staring straight into yours with a silent challenge, daring you to miss your next shot. His tongue sweeping over his bottom lip stole your attention and your hand faltered, the ball almost dropping out of your grip.

"You got this, sweetheart."

Time slowed down as the ball left your hand, your eyes watching it sail through the crisp night air while Bucky watched you. It dropped to the table with a pathetic, dull tock—inches away from any of the red solo cups. Bucky's smile grew even more lopsided, his eyes gleaming with mirth.

"Better luck next time, angel."

What the fuck was with him calling you these stupid, heart stuttering, knee trembling pet names?

Your beer pong partner was quick to brush off your missed shot, chuckling at your flustered expression and offering to help you with your stance. The game continued with you almost missing every shot, your partner guiding you with hands on your hips in the hopes of you sinking a cup. His arms wrapped around your waist when you made your first successful shot, but it wasn't his attention that had your mind clouding—you couldn't even say it was the alcohol flowing through your veins. No, it was the look of pride on Bucky's face that had you freezing, everything else around you fading away until all that remained was shining midnight eyes and curved pink lips.

God, how you wished the arms around your waist were his.

The guys you were playing with retreated inside after the game ended, with your partner telling you to find him before you left, throwing you an easy smile over his shoulder.

Bucky and you lingered in the fresh air, slowly walking towards the backdoor, your bare arm brushing against his denim jacket with every step. Music and laughter trickled out of the open windows, the noise softening in the cool breeze before it reached you. Despite the calm, you felt your body vibrate with a persistent buzz—Bucky's close proximity and the beer you downed making it hard to find the line between your feelings and reality.

"You do realise he was flirting with you, right?" Bucky's voice broke the silence. You turned your head to find him already gazing at you—soft eyes a contradiction to his clenched jaw.

You scoffed, looking at him like he'd grown another head. "What, no he wasn't."

"Uh yeah, he definitely was. The 'let me fix your stance' play is the oldest trick in the book and has a pretty decent success rate." He chuckled softly, shaking his head with an uptick of a smile. "Not with you, though." He paused, giving you a teasing wink. "I'll keep that in mind."

The wink had your body flushing with heat, the words I'll keep that in mind burrowing into your lovesick heart and amplifying the buzzing. Your words stumbled on their way out."Th-there's no way he was flirting with me—he's way out of my league."

Bucky stopped in his tracks, turning to face you fully with a deep crease between his eyebrows. The gentle breeze swept a strand of hair over his face, your hand twitching with the need to brush it behind his ear.

His voice dropped low, the teasing tone subduing. "What are you on about? Tell me you know that's not true, doll."

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the intimacy of the dark sky. You shivered, not just from the cooling wind caressing your bare arms. You gave a small shrug in response.

Bucky started to take his jacket off, exposing the black t-shirt that hugged his biceps a little too tight for your sanity. "While I don't believe in the whole people being in different leagues thing, I can confidently say you are so far out of his league you're on a whole nother planet."

"…Are you saying I'm an alien?"

"If the shoe fits," Bucky responded, a fraction of his seriousness easing into a cheeky smile. He draped his jacket over your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the sides of your neck as he fixed the collar—another shiver running down your spine from his faint touch. The warm, rich scent of his cologne and him wrapped around you and dragged you under—the scent that you now associated with home.

Bucky's eyes met yours, the starlit blue swirling with something you couldn't quite decipher. His hands moved from the collar of his jacket to the hem, fingers toying with the rough fabric. "No, what I'm trying to say is that you're—" he licked his lips, trying to find the right words. "Any guy would be lucky to have you, but I don't think anyone is deserving of you."

Your brain short-circuited, the haze of rose coloured glasses starting to fall over your eyes—threatening to distort the Bucky in front of you with the one you stayed up late daydreaming about.

You found a smaller version of your voice. "I…I'm not that special, Buck."

He tugged on the hem, the force pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders. "No? Then why are you the only person—other than Steve—that I let call me Buck?"

You stared at him, unblinking. You didn't realise other people didn't call him Buck—the nickname just slipped from your lips so naturally after the first month of living with him.

"One of these days, I'm going to make you see yourself how I do."

He leaned in, brushing the faintest of kisses on your forehead—the mere ghost of his lips burning your skin, eliciting a cascade of sparks to run down your body. He stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets and tilted his head towards the door.

"Let's get back inside before Sam tells everyone about the time he had to save you from a raccoon."

"He had very sinister looking eyes!" You cried indignantly. "And I was really stoned—remind me to never have one of Nat's brownies ever again."

The third moment happened during your bar's weekly quiz night.

The four of them were in their usual booth for the night—the one Sam demanded you reserve for them ever since you mentioned your work had a quiz night on Tuesdays. Nat and Steve were sitting on one side, each nursing a pint of craft beer, with Sam and Bucky sitting opposite them—the latter half hanging out of the booth with his hand raised in a beckoning gesture, shooting you one of those irresistible half smiles that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing exactly what he wanted—but you couldn't stay away from that smile, even if it was starting to get you in trouble at work.

You walked over to them, pocketing your pen and notepad before stopping next to Bucky, your eyebrows raised and arms folded.

"What do you want now?"

"Can I please place an order for the answer to question five?" Bucky held the quiz sheet up to you, pointing at the blank space next to number five like it was a menu. "Oh, and question eight." His smile evolved into a endearing grin, your heart aching traitorously at the sight.

"No."

The smile dropped a fraction, not expecting you to say no to his charm. "C'mon, you're the one here who knows niche pop culture the best—even Sam is stumped. I know you know the answers."

You nodded, looking at the sheet in his hand before his puppy dog eyes made you crumble. "You're right, I do. I'm not giving them to you, though."

"I thought I was your favourite." His voice dropped like he was genuinely upset, but his twitching cheeks gave away the smile he was suppressing. Sam scoffed next to him, Nat and Steve exchanged a knowing look. You ignored them.

Bucky put the sheet on the table, patting it softly like he was about to make a deal. "How 'bout this—I'll make you dinner for a week." He carefully watched your face, trying to find a crack in your resistance. "Two weeks."

You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "Bucky, the prize is only a fifty dollar bar tab."

Bucky shook his head. "It's not about the prize, it's about the glory of winning four weeks in a row." He squinted his eyes, tilting his head in the way you knew meant he was thinking—probably something stupid, too. "Wait—is there another prize for that?"

You scoffed, tempted to hit him with your notepad. "Yeah, you get put on the no entry list."

Nat and Steve snickered at Bucky's clearly offended face, and you bit your lip to hold back your smile—he looked too cute, it was tugging at your heart strings.

"Besides," you continued, "you only won them because you cheated."

He raised his hands in mock defence. "Hey, not my fault the pretty waitress was more than willing."

Sam choked on his beer, spluttering a mouthful onto the table. Your eyebrows skyrocketed, heat rushing to your cheeks and ears at his choice of words.

Bucky's cheeks lit up red and he ran a hand through his hair. "No—wait, I didn't—that wasn't what I meant." He nervously chuckled. "What I meant was that you're more than willing to help—help us…" He trailed off, turning and shooting Steve a look.

Some of the tension left your shoulders, along with some of the hope you always carried that Bucky liked you more than a friend. You cleared your throat, your heart rate struggling to slow down after 'pretty waitress'.

"Maybe I've grown a conscience." You looked slightly to your left, your eyes flicking to your manager standing at the end of the bar, narrowing her eyes at you.

Bucky chuckled softly, his confidence back even with his cheeks still glowing. He crossed his arms on the table, leaning towards you. "Are we gettin' you in trouble, sweetheart?"

"There's no we in this, Barnes. It's all you." Nat interjected, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at him. He gave her a dismissive wave, his eyes still looking at you expectantly.

"She said if you win one more time then she's going to put me on the bar for quiz nights—something about testing a theory…" You admitted quietly. You watched his blue eyes soften, his previous amusement dissipating.

"Well, we can't have that happening." He said, serious. "I would stop coming to quiz night."

"Yeah, right." Sam muttered into his beer.

"You'd be on the no entry list anyways, Buck." You said to Bucky, your tone lilting jokingly.

He tilted his head, the right side of his mouth twitching, his eyes looking like a sky full of secrets.

"You wouldn't do that to me, doll. You like me too much."

Your stomach dropped at his low voice, his words piercing right into the chamber of your heart he had unknowingly etched his name on. A breath got stuck in your throat, your usual witty banter getting lost in the sea of thoughts that only screamed his name.

Like an angel pulling you from a seizing riptide, your managers voice called out your name—saving you from saying something stupid, something that exposed how you had gone past the boundary of like six months ago, stepping into a dangerous territory that could tear you apart.

"Duty calls," you laughed out breathlessly, pointing a thumb over your shoulder. You turned on your heels and walked away like you were on fire.

Sam's low mutter made its way to you through the hum of soft pop music and chatter. "Get a room already, for fuck's sake."

Your shoe scuffed on the hardwood floor, your feet almost tripping over each other. You caught your balance—narrowly avoiding falling and making a fool of yourself in front of the guy you're hopelessly in love with.

You reached your manager waiting at the end of the bar, overcome with the desire to kiss her in gratitude.

"I need you to cover the bar while Dean has a smoke. He'll be ten minutes, tops."

You nodded your okay, used to covering the bar for your coworkers breaks. "Unless a pretty girl walks past, then he'll be at least thirty."

Your manager hummed in agreement. "Remind me to dock his pay for pulling that shit on Saturday. Boy gets enough tips from his flirting to make up for it."

You exchanged a small laugh, walking around her to go behind the bar. She touched your forearm as you passed, stopping you with a gentle touch.

"Word of advice?" She started, voice a little quieter. "Don't screw the crew."

You stared at her with furrowed brows, confused. "What? I would never sleep with Dean, that's just—ew, who knows how many untreated diseases he has." You visibly shuddered your disgust at the idea of hooking up with your coworker who was always chasing tail.

She nodded her head in the direction you came from. "They're your roommates, right?" You nodded slowly. "Hon, you look at him like you can't decide whether you want to run in the opposite direction or get on your knees."

Heat rose beneath your skin, your body freezing in mortification. You gaped at her, your mouth opening and closing until you pushed out a forced laugh.

"What—you're—that's ridiculous. You should get your eyes checked because that's, like," you laughed nervously, panic starting to burn through your rib cage, "he's like…a brother to me?" You phrased it like a question, your voice rising uncharacteristically high at the end.

She gave you a deadpan look, not buying a lick of your bullshit. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, your teeth starting to tear at your inner cheek.

"Is it…am I really that obvious?"

She sighed, her hand on your arm giving a reassuring squeeze. "I've worked with you long enough to know when someone is making you uncomfortable, when you're seconds away from exploding at a condescending customer, or when you want to jump over the bar and climb a guy like a tree." She paused for a second, pursuing her lips in thought. "Funnily enough, they all looked like him."

She let go of your arm, nodding towards the bar. "Now, stop thinking about fucking your roommate and get to work. I'm pretty sure table seven just ordered six espresso martini's." She gave your ass a friendly swat, pushing you behind the bar and making you throw your head back with a startled laugh.

You grabbed the docket from the POS printer, seeing an order for five espresso martini's and one spicy mango margarita. You walked down to the cocktail section, hands moving on autopilot as you prepared the margarita first.

Your eyes flicked up out of habit, your attention drawing towards the booth your roommates had practically scratched their names into—finding a pair of piercing blue eyes already gazing at you. The tequila bottle in your hand shook.

Don't screw the crew.

The last moment occurred during a typical movie night, where yours and Sam's raised voices warranted a domestic disturbance call from your neighbours.

"Oh my god, we are not watching Top Gun for the third time this month!" You exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing your head back against the couch with a groan.

Sam scoffed from his spot sprawled on his stupidly large beanbag—the one you're fairly certain is a dog bed for a Great Dane. "Oh, like your suggestions are any better? You made us sit through a fucking Twilight marathon a couple weeks ago! That's precious time I'll never get back."

You glared at him. "That's bullshit, Wilson—I didn't make you do anything. You chose to sit in that exact same spot and watch all five movies." A mocking smile twitched your lips. "And, if I remember correctly, you were the one asking me to pause the movie while you went to get more snacks."

Sam shook his head adamantly. "No, what's bullshit is your taste in movies—I only sat through it so you wouldn't feel bad!"

Nat and Steve were cuddled up on the couch perpendicular to you, their eyes darting back and forth between you and Sam like they were watching a tennis match. Bucky was sitting on the other end of the couch you were on, legs spread wide with a soda in one hand—his eyes shooting daggers at Sam.

You let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, really? So you crying when you thought Carlisle was dead was just you not wanting me to feel bad?"

"Yes!" Sam yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. Then he paused, processing what you just said. "Wait, no—there was no crying! I just acted sad for your benefit."

You opened your mouth to refute his statement when a deep, husky voice rumbled out from next to you.

"Sam," Bucky started, tone low and final, "stop lying, I saw you wiping your eyes." He continued glaring at Sam, his shoulders more tense than they were a minute ago. "Apologise to her so we can move on."

Sam looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Apologise? What the fuck do I have to apologise for?"

Bucky nodded towards you, darkened blue eyes still narrowed at Sam menacingly. "You said her taste in movies was bullshit. Apologise."

You were suddenly speechless—not sure how your usual movie night bickering with Sam led to Bucky being so…commanding. Protective.

You looked over to the other couch, catching Nat's eye—her mouth overtaken by a knowing smile. Your eyes darted to Steve next to her, his cheeks tinted pink and eyes squinted as he looked at his best friend—a sly smile partially hidden by the can he brought to his lips.

Sam shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, grabbing the TV remote off the coffee table.

Bucky reached out a long leg, giving Sam's beanbag a firm kick. "Now."

"Jesus," Sam dragged out, "chill out, man." He turned to you with a sigh, brown eyes glinting as he gave you his best puppy dog expression. "I am truly sorry for calling your movie taste bullshit. I will gladly sit through ten Twilight marathons if that's what you want."

He turned to Bucky with a smug grin. "There, I apologised to your girl. You happy now?"

A breath hitched in your throat, your brain freezing and going offline.

Your girl.

Said so easily, so naturally. Like it was a fact and not a mocking taunt.

Goosebumps prickled across your skin, a pleased shiver running through you at the thought of being Bucky's girl.

Bucky glared at Sam, the apples of his cheeks dusting pink. "Very." He said before leaning forward and snatching the remote out of Sam's hand. He turned to you, cheeks still flushed but eyes considerably softer. "What do you want to watch, doll?"

"…Shrek 2."

Groans erupted from three of your roommates, the fourth keeping his eyes on you while he shook his head with a fond laugh—the one that showed his pearlescent teeth and crinkled his eyes. The one that was your damnation, sentencing you to a life of yearning and false hope.

"It's the soundtrack, right?"

You nodded eagerly, a bright smile making your cheeks ache. "I knew you would get me, Buck."

You faintly heard a fake gagging sound come from the nuisance being swallowed by a beanbag, but you couldn't care less. Not when Bucky was looking at you like you were an astronomical phenomenon.

Condensation beaded glasses stained the wooden tabletop, chewed paper straws slowly disintegrating in melted ice. A half eaten bowl of fries grew stale in the middle of the table—your manager's attempt to get some food in her staff while they abused the (prepaid) leftover function alcohol, yourself included. The disco ball was still spinning, sending a thousand shards of light dancing throughout the empty bar, while an ABBA track murmured softly beneath laughter and gossip.

"I'm telling you," Dean said, spreading his arms over the back of the booth, "the ladies can't get enough of me."

The booth packed full of your coworkers vibrated with long groans, someone to your left loudly booing and your manager threatening to throw her gin and tonic in his face. You shoved his arm off the seat behind you, earning yourself a pinch to your cheek as his arm retreated.

"I'm serious!" Dean continued, pulling his phone out of his jean's pocket. "One of them even left a review about me last week—hold up, I'll get it." He squinted against the glowing light from his screen, bringing up the bar's google page to show everyone.

"Here it is—last Saturday: bartender was cute, would drink here again. Five stars." He leaned back in the booth with a smug smile, barely reacting when your manager ripped his phone out of his hand.

"Did you see who left the review, dingus?" She asked him, her mocking smirk overpowering his. "I don't know about you, but I don't know any ladies who go by the name James." She waved the phone in his face before going back to reading the review.

Dean recovered quickly, holding his hands up with a shrug. "I'm not opposed to having male admirers—they're some of my biggest tips."

You snorted a laugh. "Oh, I bet they are."

The table dissolved into laughter around you, the liquor and line cook's joint lowering everyone's inhibitions.

Your manager looked up from the phone at you, her eyes lighting up. "Weren't you also working on the bar last Saturday?"

You took a sip of your drink, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. "I think so? Was that the night we had two bachelorette parties come in?"

"Yeah, we ran out of cold brew because of them." Dean said. "I set a new record for how many numbers I could get in one night."

You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him like everyone else at the table. "Yeah, I was definitely on the bar—my arms are still aching from shaking espresso martini's all night."

Your manager leaned forward, her glassy eyes glinting at you teasingly. "I think this review is about you," she said in a sing-song tone.

You couldn't help but feel a little giddy at someone leaving you a review calling you cute, even if they were most likely stumbling drunk.

Allie—your fellow waitress who was sitting on the other side of Dean—grabbed the phone and read the review herself, scrolling on the screen with her eyes growing wider until a delighted gasp left her.

She looked at you with a beaming smile. "This James guy has been leaving reviews about you for months."

"What?"

She nodded eagerly, a small squeal leaving her. "This is so good, nothing this exciting ever happens here!" She was almost bouncing in her seat as she looked back at the phone, her excitement shaking the booth. "Okay, this one is from Valentines Day: waitress's frown is cute, I still should've bought her flowers." She fell back against the booth seat, clutching the phone to her chest with a dreamy sigh.

Your heart stuttered, the tipsy fog in your head clouding further. "That's—it doesn't say my name…" you trailed off with a nervous laugh. "It could be about any of the waitresses."

Your manager snorted. "We called you sourpuss the whole shift, you wouldn't stop frowning."

Before you could start your rant about how Valentine's Day is just another highly commercialised holiday and people shouldn't need a specific day of the year to celebrate love, Allie started reading out another review.

"This one is from four months ago: come to this bar if you want to see a real-life angel."

Dean groaned, "that's so fucking cheesy." He turned to look at you, "I hope you're not falling for this shit."

"We don't even know if it's about me!"

"I think it's cute," the new waitress piped in from the other end of the booth. "You've got a secret admirer."

"More like a stalker." One of the line cooks mumbled.

"Oh," Allie gasped, "this man has it bad. These are borderline love confessions." She reached past Dean, handing you his phone with the review page still open.

You hesitantly grabbed the phone from her, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. There's no way some guy was leaving these reviews about you…right? That just seems insane, like something out of a romcom. Or something that will end with a restraining order and you moving states away.

The phone faintly trembled in your unsteady hands, your eyes narrowing against the screen's bright glare.

James B.

★★★★★ a month ago

Wars were started over smiles less beautiful than hers.

Oh.

That's maybe the most romantic thing anyone has ever said about you.

You don't know if it's about you.

You exhaled shakily, shrugging nonchalantly as you handed the phone back to Dean. "He could be talking about any of the waitresses." You repeated your earlier statement. And then for good measure—"It's hardly a compliment—wars are started over literally anything."

Allie looked at you with wide eyes, bringing her hands up and shaking them in a strangling motion.

"Do you know anyone called James?" Your manager probed, clearly invested.

"No." You answered, ignoring the dull, tingling sensation at the back of your head. "No one significant."

"Well, even if he does turn out to be a stalker, at least he boosted our ratings."

Over the next few weeks, your coworkers had made it their personal mission to find out the identity of James B. Your manager had the brilliant idea to set up a weekly bar tab giveaway—for people to be in the draw they just needed to put their business card in a jar on the bar. What your customers didn't know was that every Friday after close, Allie and Dean were emptying the jar not to find a lucky winner but to look for any cards with the name James B.

It turned out there were a few more James B.'s than they were expecting, and there were no other parameters to narrow down their search. And much to their chagrin, you didn't recognise any of their names.

"Wait!" Dean exclaimed, holding a finger in the air. "Why don't we just reply to one of his reviews?"

"Oh," Allie said, leaning forward in her chair, "that's actually kind of smart. Maybe we could say we have a thank you gift for our number one fan?"

"Or we could just ask who he is."

Something about that made you uneasy.

After the night you all first discovered the reviews, Allie had drawn up a timeline of them which revealed this James guy had been leaving reviews for a year. And while they never mentioned your name, everyone knew they were about you—but you didn't want to believe that; it felt absolutely insane.

Majority of the reviews were brief and mundane, similar to the first one Dean saw. But a few of them…they read like poetry, like the pages out of someone's journal. They mentioned your smile, how your laugh could cure any ailment, that being in your presence was like witnessing a supernova.

It was beautiful and terrifying.

And every day it was looking more like a stalker than someone you knew—you didn't want to give him attention in fear that it could evolve from something harmless to dangerous.

"Already tried that," your manager sighed next to you. "He didn't reply."

Something in the atmosphere felt off when you shouldered the brownstone's front door open with a heavy sigh. It was well past midnight on a Saturday, and the soft murmuring you would usually hear coming from the lounge—Sam had a habit of passing out in front of the TV on Saturday night's—was nonexistent. You didn't think much of it, your mind single-focused on needing a scolding hot shower to wash away the ten hour bar shift.

Your work uniform was drenched and sticking to you uncomfortably, a crust of sugary cocktails and beer lining your skin. It had been one disaster after another—the beer keg soaking you as you tried to tap it, the cocktail shaker exploding in your hands, the new waitress who failed to call out "behind" and you ended up covered in a customers chili cheese fries.

You welcomed the boiling water, scrubbing your skin until it was red and raw. Visible steam swirled from your body even after you retreated into your room, and only then did some of the tension ease from your shoulders. Your fatigue ran bone deep—it felt like you were dragging your feet through mud as you slowly started your nighttime routine.

A noise cut through the eerily silent night, soft and faint, but an unmistakable echo from the room next to yours. It made you pause, your eyebrows drawing together. Then more noise followed, three breathy high pitched moans that the wall separating your rooms failed to drown out. A hot realisation curdled your stomach, rising through your body until it settled in your chest and throat—a tight, unrelenting fist clenching and making it harder to breathe.

Bucky had company.

Your ears zeroed in on the noises against your wishes. The last thing you wanted was to hear the guy you had a debilitating crush on fuck someone else. And yet, you stood frozen—your towel still wrapped around you, water dripping onto the floor, heart trying to beat out of your chest. Your nervous system had entered fight or flight mode, triggered by the sounds of another woman's pleasure.

Sweat started to line your back, your hands trembling where they were clutching the towel, chest stuttering as your breaths turned sharp and quick.

The moans grew in volume and soft thuds reverberated against the wall—then, a faint low murmuring graced your ears. A deep voice you would recognise anywhere, that you had heard through the wall plenty of times during your one year living there.

You snapped out of your shock, ripping open your work bag to find your headphones. Your phone shook in your hands as you searched for 'calming' playlists, your thumb jabbing violently at the first result. You turned the volume up loud enough to vibrate your eardrums, but the damage was already done.

You paced the length of your room, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to calm down—to will your racing heartbeat to slow, to tamp down the spiralling thoughts that made you feel like you were drowning.

You got ready for bed in a blur, trying to stay as quiet as possible with your heart beating wildly in your throat. The exhaustion that had your bones aching after your shift was lingering, but had been overwhelmed by the adrenaline surging through your veins. You laid in your bed, trying to concentrate on your breathing.

Inhale. One, two, three, four.

Hold. One, two—

It didn't sound like she was faking it.

The breath rushed out of you quickly.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, clenching your fists and trying to focus on the sensation.

Inhale. One, two, three—

Bucky's bed is pressed up against your shared wall.

You grabbed the pillow next to you and pressed it against your face, something between a pained whimper and frustrated groan leaving your throat.

Did he like to talk? Was he whispering dirty things in her ear, telling her how good she felt, how much he wanted her? Did she get to hear him moan and whimper?

The music in your ears had become irritating, overstimulating you even more. But there was no way in hell you were taking your headphones off—your heart was already broken enough.

Did he call her sweetheart, too?

You slept for two hours, maybe three if you were being generous. The exhaustion won out against the anxiety around two am, only for you to jerk awake two hours later when the same noises echoed through the wall. At some point in the night your headphones had slipped off and you were defenceless against the noises your body had already filed as a threat.

Your nervous system reacted as if you were being hunted down by a lion, not overhearing your roommate-slash-crush have sex. It was a horrible way to wake up—your body pumping full of adrenaline and cortisol before you even took a deep breath.

The headphones went back on a second too late—leaving a scratched record of giggles looping through your head that the music couldn't drown out. One giggle that you knew well, that had you beaming with pride whenever you coaxed it out of him.

A silent tear slid down towards your ear, disappearing into your hairline as you stared at the ceiling.

Hours passed before it felt safe for you take the headphones off, and even then anxiety gripped your chest whenever you thought about leaving your room. Everything that had once felt safe, had once felt like your solace, now felt like a prison.

You knew you were being dramatic, knew that your jealousy and hurt was unreasonable. Bucky wasn't yours, he would never be yours—you knew that, you'd always known that. But that's the thing with crushes—they are irrational, uncontrollable beasts that mistake kindness for attraction, that disguise inevitable heartbreak as fluttering butterflies.

Opening your bedroom door slowly, you saw the flash of a towel dart into Bucky's room—two faint sets of giggles sounding behind the closed door, slicing into your aching heart. Heat burst behind your eyes and you willed the tears to stay at bay—at least until the shower could drown out your sobs.

You sat on the floor of the shower, staring at the wall while hot water rained down on you, each drop feeling like a knife piercing your skin. You sat there, unblinking, as your vision blurred—the water washing away your endless tears. You sat there as the shower stream changed from a burning fire to an icy bite, your body shivering but unmoving.

Nat's banging on the door about rising water prices snapped you out of your dissociative daze.

"Bucky! Oh, fuck—don't stop, please—"

"Yeah? You like that?"

"Yes—god, so much!"

"You feel so good, baby."

Thump, thump, thump.

You had taken your headphones off for half a minute while getting changed. All it took was thirty seconds for tears to swell in your eyes and a silent scream to claw at your throat.

It had been four weeks since you first heard them. Four weeks of knowing your crush was fucking someone else less than three metres from your bed. Four weeks of debilitating anxiety and heartache consuming you until there was nothing left to take.

You knew their routine; she came over every Wednesday and Saturday, always after ten pm. Depending on your roster for the week, sometimes you were home when she came over—subjected to hearing Bucky's low baritone greet her at the door, their footsteps padding down the hall past your room, the soft click of his door closing and the giggles that followed.

You fucking hated giggles.

By the end of the second week, you had put in a request to work the closing shift every Wednesday and Saturday. The tightness in your chest and churning in your stomach never faded, but you took some comfort in knowing you would only be in the same house as her for a few hours. You hadn't met her—you didn't even know her name—but you were envious of a faceless woman, a voice you heard in the dark, because she had the one thing you wanted but could never have.

No one brought her up—there were no casual chats between the boys, no probing questions from Nat. Apart from the first time, she was out of the house by six am—narrowly avoiding Sam and Steve leaving for their morning run. You weren't even sure they knew she existed—not until Nat gave you a sympathetic smile over a glass of wine, confirming that they did in fact know without uttering a word.

The usual nights the five of you spent together continued as normal. Or, at least as normal as you could manage. The space between you and Bucky grew—he stopped trying to charm quiz answers out of you, and you hugged the arm of the couch like it was a life preserver during movie night. The soft conversations over morning coffee ceased to exist, the nights of you two reading together in the lounge just a hazy memory.

The distance made your heart yearn for him while his proximity made your nervous system overload. It was a push and pull that sucked the life out of you, exhausting you until you were a shell of who you used to be.

When Sam asked you what your first heartbreak was you instantly thought of Liam Turner from the sixth grade. He was the classic class clown that both charmed and annoyed all the girls in your grade. He sat next to you during History and English, always pestering you for help and trying to make you his partner in crime. You did what any smitten eleven year old girl would do—you handed him a note. It was simple, you didn't even write your name—just "do you like me" with tick boxes for yes and no. You handed it to him before recess and watched with bated breath as he ran to his group of friends, watched as all of them turned to you and fell into hysterics. You crashed into your mom's arms once you got home from school, sobs wracking your body as you felt like you were going to die from the crushing sensation in your chest.

What you felt that day wasn't even a drop in the agony that consumed you when you walked into the lounge for movie night.

"You're late!" Nat yelled, her voice travelling down the hall as you rushed through the front door.

"I know, I know," you yelled back, heading for your room and changing out of your work clothes in record time. You made your way towards the lounge once in comfy clothes. "The health inspector would not stop asking me questions, no matter how many times I told him I'm not the—"

Your feet and words came to a halt once you reached the doorway to the lounge, your heart dropping to the floor and shattering into a million pieces.

Because there she was—sitting in your usual spot with her feet resting on Bucky's lap, one of his hands engulfing her ankles.

She was beautiful. And the complete opposite to you in every way possible. From the texture and colour of her hair to the shape of her body. From the clothing and jewellery she wore to the colour of her eyes.

The two of you weren't even comparable—you were from completely different planets, different universes.

It hit like a sucker punch. You weren't his type, not even close.

You're a fucking fool.

She smiled brightly at you, the white of her teeth glaring. You faintly heard her great you through the ringing in your ears, offering you her name. You managed a meek hi in response, dragging your wide eyes away from her over to the other couch.

Big mistake.

Nat and Steve were already looking at you with pity in their eyes, a silent "are you okay?" written all over their faces. Nat scooted closer to Steve, tilting her head towards the small open spot next to her on the couch. You knew the second you sat next to them that her comforting presence would wrap around you and tear away the last of your fraying composure. So, you did something you had never done before.

"Move it, bird brain." You muttered to Sam, squatting down next to his beanbag and shoving his shoulder to make room for you.

"You ever tried not being bossy?" He grumbled in reply, shuffling to the right so you could collapse down next to him.

Normally you would respond with something just as snarky. But that required mental energy that you did not possess—energy that was being drained with each passing second she sat behind you.

You settled into the beanbag, the rustling of polystyrene beads filling the quiet room. You tried to take calming breaths as subtly as possible, the blood from your broken heart clogging your throat and lungs.

"We're watching Interstellar tonight," Nat spoke softly. "Steve's pick."

You hummed, keeping your eyes glued to the TV screen as Steve navigated through the streaming app.

Sam stiffened next to you, turning to you with a peculiar look on his face. "What? You got nothing to say to that?"

You sighed. "Every white guy's number one film on letterboxd. Try being less predictable next time, Rogers." You said in a flat monotone.

A deep, breathy chuckle sounded behind you, and it took all of your diminishing willpower to not turn and get a glimpse of the soft smile that haunted your dreams.

You tried your best to focus on the movie, you really did. You tried to focus on the press of Sam's shoulder against yours, something tangible to keep you grounded. But nothing could distract you from the soft murmuring behind you, the sound of her giggles as Bucky provided commentary throughout the movie. It was something that you normally didn't mind, something you indulged in, even. Not tonight. Thirty minutes into the movie, your eye had developed a constant twitch from suppressing the urge to turn around and tell them to shut the fuck up.

At one point Sam's hand had fallen over both of yours, stopping you from picking at your bleeding hangnails. You didn't even notice the sting from the exposed wounds—too preoccupied with gnawing on the inside of your cheeks.

You walked into your shift the next day with another request.

You clocked into your shift on Tuesday afternoon with a sinking pit in your stomach. A feeling that you had become accustomed to over the last couple months, a feeling that had you walking the scenic route home at night, delaying your arrival. It was the feeling that you had started associating with home, along with the ache in your chest.

You loved quiz night—you loved seeing what stupid team names people came up with, loved judging them when they got such an obvious answer wrong. Once upon a time, you had loved seeing Bucky's handsome face sitting in your section, waving you over with an up to no good smile stretching his lips. Now, it all felt like a taunt.

Nothing was out of the ordinary—the opening shift said it had been quiet as usual, there had been a couple bookings from newcomers for quiz night, and the tabby cat that wandered the block came in to say hi.

And then, she walked in. Strolling in behind Nat and Steve, her arm looped through one of Bucky's, flashing you a kind smile as they made their way to their usual booth. In your section.

You wanted to scream. Cry. Jump into the East River.

The bar had become your safe place—which honestly sounded crazy, you hated half of the customers. But your home hadn't felt like your home since she walked through the door. And now she was in the one place that hadn't been tarnished.

She was nice, you knew she was. But she was a constant reminder that your heart belonged to a man who never looked at you twice.

You rushed over to Allie who was standing at the bar waiting for Dean to finish garnishing cocktails.

"I need you to swap sections with me—please." You said in a frantic breath.

She turned to you, her face already telling you her answer. "Hell no! I've got two tables of big tipper's—I am not giving that away."

Dean leaned his elbows on the bar. "I'll swap with you."

Your head whipped to him at a comical speed, your wide eyes meeting his unbothered grin. "…But you hate working the floor."

He nodded towards one of your tables—one of the newcomer bookings, a booth full of girls in their early twenties. A few of them were already looking over at your trio—more specifically, looking at Dean. You turned back in time to see him flash them a wink.

Your chest deflated with a relieved breath. "This is the only time I am ever going to be grateful for you being such a dog."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't." You and Allie said at the same time, matching deadpan expressions on your faces.

Allie turned to you, squinting suspiciously. "Why do you want to swap?"

You shrugged, looking at her forehead to avoid eye contact. "Just felt like a change."

"You said please—pretty desperately, too. It was kinda hot." Dean piped in.

You glared at him, choosing not to acknowledge his comment. You turned back to Allie looking at you expectantly. "Variety is the spice of life?"

She hummed disbelievingly. "Mhm, sure. We'll talk later."

Working the bar brought you no reprieve; every time you walked to the cocktail station, they were in your direct eyeline. Every time you poured a cosmo, shook a lemon drop, garnished a mojito, you could hear them laughing. You watched how she fit in like the missing puzzle piece, her body slotting perfectly under Bucky's arm—like that's where she belonged. You watched your roommates welcome her in with open arms and crying laughter, the realisation hitting you that she replaced the temporary hole your absence had opened.

Your knees were shaking while you closed up the bar, your hands scrubbing the beer grates with an urgency that was cause for concern.

"Hey, hey, woah that's—" Dean came up next to you, his hands gently clasping your wrists. "That's enough," he said, uncharacteristically gentle, "your hands are bleeding." He brought your hands up, your unfocused eyes seeing spots of red raised on your knuckles.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. What's up with you today?"

Dean led you away from the bar, grabbing a first aid kit on your way over to where your manager and Allie were sitting, working through the next week's orders. He pushed you into a chair, stepping back with an awkward pat to your head.

"I'm sensing that this is a girl talk so I'm just gonna finish closing the bar."

The two women turned to you with concern painting their faces. Allie glanced down at your hands and opened the first aid kit, pulling out supplies to treat the cuts. Neither of them spoke while she tended to your hands, watching your face closely.

"These aren't too bad, just scrapes." She said softly, packing the kit back up and sitting it out of the way. She clasped your hands lightly, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands. "What's going on, sweetie?"

You looked up from where you had been staring at the table, seeing her eyes and your manager's shining with worry. A silent tear slipped from your eye, leaving a damp path in it's wake.

"Whose kneecaps are we busting?" Your manager demanded.

That broke you.

Your shoulders started shaking, your throat closing in on itself in the form of a sob. Your heart escaped from your chest cavity, rising up like bile. Your vision was completely blurred, hot tears taking your eyes hostage. You caved in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your body as your frame trembled like a leaf.

You couldn't even feel embarrassed about bawling like a baby in front of your coworkers, the pain you had been sheltering for months overruling any other emotion. Allie wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her warmth and making you cry harder. Your manager placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her thumb rubbing calming patterns as they both whispered words of comfort to you.

You gasped for breath, trying to get some air past the ball in your throat. "I-It's so—" your words broke with a hiccup, "it's so fucking stupid." You rushed out. "We were never—ugh!" You wiped at your cheeks furiously, willing the tears to stop. You gulped down a deep breath, trying to focus on the comforting touches and not the agony vibrating every cell in your body.

"We were never anything. God, I'm sobbing over a guy that—he was only being nice, and I made it into something it wasn't." You garbled out, the brine of tears lining your lips.

You opened up to them, telling them about how deeply you fell for Bucky in between sobs. How you felt like a goddamn fool, your lovesick heart reading into things and mistaking your strictly platonic relationship as something else entirely. You told them how you hate going home most nights, finding it harder to breathe the closer you got to the brownstone. You admitted to them that it's not just jealousy over him with another girl, it's something deeper—the fear that you've been replaced, that he doesn't need you anymore.

"…my sleep is fucked, I'm on high alert every second I'm home—I don't feel safe in my own home. Which—I know, it sounds so fucking dramatic. But it's like she's seeped into every crack, changing the foundations I built over a year ago. Now she's turning up here—on fucking quiz night, my night—and I just can't escape." You finished with a deep breath, feeling drained from your emotional monologue.

Allie, who had kept her arms wrapped around you throughout your rambling, lifted her head and looked at you with a mix of understanding and sympathy. "That's why you wanted to swap sections, because she was here." You nodded meekly.

She sighed and sat back in her chair. "Give me a couple days to clear out my spare room. You need it more than I need a second closet."

Before you could start sobbing over her offer a muscular arm reached in front of you, depositing a vodka cranberry onto the table.

Dean's voice rumbled behind you. "If it makes you feel any better, I've wanted to sleep with you since my first shift."

"Dean," both women next to you hissed. You turned to look at him, catching that easy-going smile of his and you started laughing—the first genuine one in weeks.

Thursday 6:18pm

Nat: Hey, you working late tonight? The boys are getting restless, Sam is threatening to watch Top Gun if you're not home in 10…

You: shit i forgot to tell you i'm working thursday nights now! sam can watch whatever mediocre garbage he wants :-)

Nat: We can change movie night to another night! Maybe Sunday? Whatever works for you x

You: don't worry about it, thursdays work for everyone else!

Nat: Is everything ok? I feel like I hardly see you anymore :(

You: aw i'm sorry natty :-( just been picking more shifts up at work - boss has me training the newbies! promise we'll have a wine night soon xx

"I'm moving out."

It was the Sunday after that fateful quiz night, the sun beating down on your four roommates as they laid out in the backyard. Sam was going on about some barbeque he had been invited to—telling the other three that if they behaved he would let them join him. Nat's head was resting on Steve's chest, half asleep while he massaged her scalp. Bucky was lying with a hand behind his head, shirtless, and reading his well-loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

Allie had sent you a photo of her spare room an hour before, a bottle of Tito's sitting on the floor the only thing in the empty room. You couldn't put off telling your roommates any longer, knowing that once you moved out you would start feeling like a human again. You stood in the doorway, arms tight across your body—fearing for their reactions.

Sam stopped talking abruptly, Nat jolted awake and sat up from Steve's chest, Bucky slowly lowered his book to his chest. Nat was the first to speak.

"What?" She asked softly.

You started to shuffle your feet, looking around the backyard—at the fairy lights that flickered like dying stars, the small veggie patch Steve cared for like it was his child—avoiding eye contact with them. "You remember Allie from the bar? We've gotten really close these past few months and she was looking for a roommate—kinda felt like a no-brainer, y'know?"

You finally looked at them, your heart beat rattling your jaw. Sam looked speechless, his face frozen in confusion. Nat was looking at you with that assessing gaze, her eyes squinting like she knew something else was going on. Steve nodded his head solemnly, his features pulled into a frown that looked out of place on him. Bucky had abandoned his book completely, sitting upright with his pretty lips downturned, his sunglasses hiding whatever emotions swam in his cerulean depths.

"I can sort out getting the room filled—can probably pay double rent if necessary—"

"I'll handle it." Bucky cut you off, his tone gruff and curt.

You wrung your hands together, hating being under the spotlight of your roommate's attention. "Are you sure? It's a bit late notice so it might be hard to—"

That same curtness cut you off again,"I said I'll handle it, didn't I?"

He probably wanted his girlfriend to move in.

Your three other roommates momentarily directed their bewildered stares to him, just as surprised as you at his bluntness. Just like Steve frowning, this was out of character for him. You could feel his eyes glaring holes into you through his sunglasses.

Nat shook her head at his attitude, turning her attention back to you. "I didn't know you wanted to move out."

Okay, time for the lies—just like you practiced in the mirror.

"It's not about wanting to move out," you started softly, "it's just something that naturally unfolded. Her landlord upped her rent last month and she can't afford it on her own anymore." Steve and Sam nodded along, while Nat was looking at you with that unwavering stare. You didn't even want to glance at Bucky. "She jokingly asked me over drinks a couple weeks ago if I was looking and after thinking on it, I think it's the best choice for me. It's closer to work, cheaper than what I currently pay and, as I said, we've become really good friends."

Nat continued squinting her eyes at you, watching as you fidgeted with your fingers—your tell that you would rather be anywhere else.

"Okay," she acquiesced. "When are you moving? We'll throw a little goodbye party."

"Great idea," Sam mumbled.

"Sometime in the next week." Everyone's eyebrows shot up at that. "And that's not necessary—I'd prefer it if you didn't do anything; it's not like I'm leaving the city, I'll only be a few blocks away."

Steve recovered from the brief shock at how soon you were leaving them. "Let us know what day and time, we'll help you move your stuff."

"I appreciate the help, really I do, but my coworkers have already offered—we have Dean to do all the heavy lifting."

That made Bucky stir, standing up with a scoff and arms folded across his chest. "Did you think about us at all? Sounds like you can't wait to get away from here."

You froze, the ice running through your veins equal to the frost in his tone. "That's not—I didn't want to bother you—"

"How can you think you bother us after all this time?" He asked, the frost melting into water—revealing something that trembled close to desperation.

"Bucky," Nat warned.

"I just don't understand," He snapped, shaking his head and walking towards where you were stuck in the doorway. He paused in front of you, his sun slicked chest making your heart gallop. You kept your eyes on his chin—locking on the clef still visible through heavy stubble, resisting the desire to glance at his naked chest, or worse, look into his eyes. "Mind letting me through?" He muttered lowly, his frame now blocking you from the sun. You ducked your head, pressing your back to the doorframe to give him space.

"Buck—"

"Not now, Steve." He bit out, your body absorbing the heat radiating from him as he brushed past you. You stood still, head tilted to the floor until you heard his door slam closed.

"Well, that was…" Steve started, his uneasy chuckle filling the heavy atmosphere.

The shock of his attitude left you dazed. You expected some blow back from Nat—she could read you like her favourite book, knowing the emotions you held within yourself better than you did. You expected—hoped, really—that they might be a little down about your departure, but Bucky acting like this wasn't even in your realm of possibility.

"What was that about?" You muttered to yourself.

Sam stood up with a huff, grabbing a beer from the cooler near the table. "Fucking idiots, the pair of you."

You timed the move for the following Wednesday, not wanting to risk another night of hearing what you had labelled your own personal torture. You had been working nights since Sunday, avoiding any interactions with your roommates. The vibe in the brownstone felt off, the air tasting stale even when you were the only one home. Nat had been texting you for updates, apologising for Bucky's strange behaviour, and assuring you your friendship with her wouldn't slip away after you were gone. Sam continued to send you memes—he had an affinity for the gradient instagram reels—and Steve saved you the best strawberries from his garden, hiding them in the fridge for you.

Bucky was radio silent.

Tuesday 5:36pm

Nat: Just spoke to Allie - apparently you're not working quiz night anymore?? What's going on?

You: we thought the new waitress should work it for a bit! good experience :-)

Nat: You should come join us then! We would be unstoppable with you on our team xx

You: maybe another time? don't want the other teams to think you have an unfair advantage lol

Nat: Fuck what they think. We miss you! Movie night was not the same without you last week :(

A month passed before you saw Bucky again.

You had been texting Nat on and off, feeling an awful reluctance to seeing her. It had nothing to do with Nat and everything to do with you continuing to avoid the problem—your feelings. Because you still thought about him, religiously so. You hated yourself for it—hated your brain conjuring up scenarios of him and her, replaying the happiness that glowed on his face the couple of times you saw them together.

Your sleep had improved, at least. There was no anxiety constricting your chest when you walked home, no fear for what you might hear through the walls. Allie encouraged you to cry it out on the bathroom floor, over tubs of ice cream on the couch. While it was horrible to address and to actually feel the heartbreak instead of intellectualising it, you had to admit you did feel lighter. It was a weight off your chest for someone else to know your secret, to let you speak about the pain and not forcing you to move on.

Your manager was quick to approve your request to work the day shifts—asking if you wanted to get your managers license, to be her dependable day shift manager. You were elated to have something else to focus on, and the pay rise wasn't bad either. Working the days also meant you weren't there in case your old roommate's called in for a drink on their way home from work.

But you knew your luck was going to run out some day soon.

It was on a quintessential late summer evening—the kind where the sun was low enough to shine through the tree canopy, casting the ground in a scene of dancing light and shadows. Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you ambled through Prospect Park, listening to the harmony of kids laughter, dogs barking, and a busker playing guitar. Walking through the park lengthened your journey home by twenty minutes, but on a day like this it was hard to resist.

You heard him before you saw him, too lost in appreciating the world around you to notice him strolling towards you on his trek home. He called out your name softly, hesitantly. And you would recognise that husky baritone even if you were locked in a soundproof pool drowning underwater.

Your gaze ripped away from watching a pair of swans glide along the shimmering lake, your heart jumping into your throat as you saw Bucky a few metres in front of you. He was wearing his gym clothes, the black compression top clinging to his chest with light patches of sweat. His hair was tied back in a small bun, a few strands stuck to his dewy forehead and your fingers twitched to brush them back. Soft sapphire eyes roamed the valleys of your face, his shoulders dropping with an almost relieved sigh.

You hated how your body heated under his watchful gaze in an instant—hated that he still had control over you and he didn't even know it.

"Hey," he said quietly, a small smile tugging his lips. He hesitated for a moment, doubt flickering across his face before he shook his head and stepped closer, lifting an arm and placing his hand between your shoulder blades to pull you into his embrace.

A startled gasp escaped you at the contact, blood pulsing in your ears as his warmth enveloped you. His other arm wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on the small of your back to pull you in closer. Your traitorous body relaxed in his hold, the heady scent of sandalwood, spice, and his sweat clouding your mind.

Fuck him for always smelling so irresistible.

"Hi." You murmured, muffled by his shirt. You kept your arms at your sides, knowing that if you felt his body beneath your hands you would backtrack all the progress you had made over the past month. You could already feel yourself slipping—comparing being in his arms again to lying in front of the fireplace while rain pelted the windows and thunder clapped outside. The feeling of being warm and safe despite a raging storm.

He rested his chin on your head, his chest expanding underneath your cheek as he inhaled deeply. The hand between your shoulders flexed, pushing you further into him. His chest rumbled below you and you felt his words more than heard them. "Missed you."

You stepped back quickly, stumbling out of his embrace. His brows pinched together and his lips turned down with a frown. He took a small step back and cleared his throat, a muscle flexing in his jaw as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"I—uh—how, how have you been?"

You folded your arms across you chest, focusing on the light freckle on his neck. "I've been okay."

"That's good, great. I—we've missed you." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard and his voice dropped lower, softer . "Place isn't the same without you."

You had to leave before you did something foolish—before you dropped to your knees and pleaded for an ounce of his affection.

You cleared your throat, trying to rid the sudden emotion clogging it. "How have you been? How's the new roommate?"

Bucky's eyes flicked away from you, a hand leaving his pocket to rub the back of his neck. "Fine—they're fine." Splotches of red coloured his cheeks. "They don't compare to you, though."

What the fuck did that mean?

"Um—okay, well, that's good? I should—"

"Listen," Bucky interrupted you before you could flee from the increasingly awkward encounter. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on the gravel lining the earth. "I—I want to apologise for my behaviour, when you told us you were leaving." He looked up at you, remorse and distress bleeding from him so viscerally you could almost grab it. "I was in shock, I think—it doesn't really matter, I'm not trying to excuse it. I just wanted you to know that I really am sorry and you didn't deserve that." He closed the distance between you more, hands raising towards you before they dropped to his sides. "I—um, I would hate for that to be the reason you haven't come 'round—if you felt uncomfortable because of me."

It was resting on the tip of your tongue, the truth. It was begging to spill out, to tell Bucky that you were uncomfortable because of him but not for the reason he believed. You could handle a little attitude—what you couldn't handle was hearing the guy you're in love with treat another woman the way you had fantasised about since the day you met him.

Grateful for the fact you had been getting enough sleep to keep a grasp on your filter, you accepted his olive branch instead of starting a confessional. "Thank you, Bucky." You looked into his eyes, trying to express your sincereness. "I appreciate it, really."

Hope flared bright across his face. "So, wanna join us next Thursday? Your pick—I'll tell Sam to keep his comments to himself."

Guilt curdled your gut. "Thank you for the offer, but I can't make it, sorry. I already have plans."

If sitting in front of the TV watching New Girl and doomscrolling on your phone constituted as plans.

And just like that, the flame was extinguished. "Oh."

You interrupted before he could say more. "It was good seeing you, Bucky, but I have to get going." You stepped around him to continue home, giving him a small wave goodbye before focusing forward—walking brisker than the tranquil evening called for, your shoulders too tense for the serene landscape.

"Bye," he murmured, the sound drifting towards you with the light breeze.

You kept your head straight forward the rest of the walk home.

You expected the text from Nat the next day, knowing that Bucky would've told your former roommates that he ran into you. She demanded you meet for brunch at your earliest convenience, and given that it was Saturday and you had no plans you couldn't deny her any longer.

You were sitting on the couch putting on your shoes when Allie burst through the front door, her hands full of bags from the morning market and mouth stuffed with cake from the pâtisserie around the corner.

"Oh my god," you heard her mumble around frosting and sponge. "Guess what I just found out."

"Apparently not what decent manners are. Swallow before you talk."

A mop of floppy blonde hair appeared in your doorway. "That's what he said."

You rolled your eyes as Dean sauntered in with a wolfish grin, closing the door behind him. "What the hell are you doing here?" You shot wide eyes at Allie, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

She took your advice and swallowed before speaking again. "I ran into him at the market—he has an update on James B!"

A mix of anticipation and dread made your morning coffee stir. "I thought he stopped leaving reviews?"

Dean collapsed next to you, eyeing the dress you were wearing with approval. "You dress up for me, angel?"

You shoved his shoulder. "Not in a million years. What's the update, dumbass?"

He pulled his phone out with a sigh. "He left a review last night—don't look at me like that, I set up notifications for this very reason." He tapped on his phone before handing it to you, the screen displaying the latest review.

James B.

★★★★★ 13 hours ago

Quiz night isn't the same without her. Nothing is.

Your heart rate picked up, sweat gathering at the back of your knees.

What the fuck?

"But last night wasn't quiz night?" Was the only thing your dumbfounded mind could vocalise.

"I mean, yeah, but you're missing the point!" Allie interjected, standing behind the couch and leaning her head down to read the review. "Now we know he's a quiz night regular! That narrows the search pool down so much."

"Ooo, what if it's one of the old dockmen?" Dean giddily queried.

"They do normally sit in your section—or, well, what used to be your section." Allie supplied, wandering back to your kitchen to put away whatever trendy new chutney she bought from the market.

Your eyes followed her, catching sight of the clock hanging on the wall. "Shit—I'm going to be late." You jumped off the couch, frantically grabbing your phone and shoulder bag. "We can theorise more later, Nat is going to murder me for being late."

"Bye, honey!" Dean yelled as you ran out the door—stopping for a second to throw him the middle finger.

Nat was sitting at a table towards the back of the cafe, her crimson hair a stark contrast to the soft pastel interior. The atmosphere was buzzing and lively—every table occupied, with laughter and heavenly aromas wafting out the open door. It was the go to brunch spot for Brooklyn natives, it's covered outdoor courtyard an enticing location on a warm summer's morning—you were surprised Nat even managed to score a table.

Her face lit up once she saw you, standing to welcome you with a hug. "One more minute and I would've thought you were ghosting me."

You hugged her just as tight, the smell of her perfume relaxing your shoulders and making your heart clench—you shouldn't have gone this long without seeing her. "God, I know, I'm sorry. Allie came home with gossip before I could make my escape."

You both pulled away and sat down, reading the menu like you hadn't looked at it online on your walk over.

"Gossip? Anything interesting?" Nat asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

You let out a deep sigh. "It's a long story. One that's better told over a bottle of wine."

"Okay, now I am beyond intrigued—you better not leave me hanging for another month." She shot you a small glare, the smile on her face lessening it's sharpness.

The waitress came over and took your orders before the two of you fell into easy conversation. She updated you on what trouble the boys—Sam—had gotten into, and you told her about the time you and Allie were locked out in your pyjamas and tried to scale the fire escape. Neither of you broached the subject of why you moved out, but it was lingering in the air—in the soft way Nat said Bucky's name. Throughout the hour you spent chatting you noticed she didn't mention their new roommate once, and the curiosity was making you restless.

"So, how's the new roommate, really? Bucky didn't say much about them."

An out of place nervous hesitation tightened Nat's face, her eyes darting between yours as she bit her lip. After a tense few seconds her shoulders dropped with a sigh.

"Honey, there is no new roommate."

You reared back, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What? But Bucky said yesterday—he said they were fine."

"Of course he did," she muttered under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked at you with a huff. "The room is empty. Bucky…he's been paying for it."

"What?" You nearly exclaimed, your body temperature rising.

"Look, I don't know why he didn't tell you the truth—I honestly don't know what goes on in his mind, he has made some terrible choices the last few months." She placed a gentle hand on top of yours, her tone softening. "Choices that had you leaving us."

"I don't understand." You muttered quietly.

"I probably shouldn't be the one to tell you this, but—Steve and him were drinking after work last week and he admitted he's paying for the room—saving it in case you want to come back."

Shock rendered you speechless—frustration climbing up from your gut, opening the partially healed scars seared into your heart. Confusion, irritation, and heartache swirled together until they formed one emotion—anger.

Your hands balled into fists, your clenched teeth making your jaw ache. "I'm sorry, what?" You bit out.

You barely noticed the smirk twitching her lips, red starting to blur your vision. "Sam and Steve are out fishing today—he's home alone if you want to go bite his head off."

You didn't need to be told twice, the red-hot fury bringing you to your feet quickly. You grabbed your stuff with urgency, your hands already starting to shake.

"Brunch is my shout—go knock some sense into him."

It took you less than ten minutes to reach the brownstone, outrage powering your legs with a speed you didn't know you were capable of. The fresh air did nothing to calm you down—you were too consumed by the memories from the past year, the heartache you endured, your utter confusion at Nat's revelation.

Your fist pounded on the wooden door, not stopping until it swung open to reveal a puzzled Bucky.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, pink lips stretching into a knee trembling smile. Your dress caught his attention, his smile freezing as blue eyes trailed down and back up your body.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "What are you doin' here, doll?"

"Don't fucking call me that," you seethed, pushing him out of your way to storm inside. You barged down the familiar path to your old room, ignoring Bucky as he called out your name behind you.

You opened the door to find the room exactly how you left it—empty. You whipped around to see Bucky standing a few feet behind you, looking down at the ground with a hand rubbing his neck and a fire overtaking his cheeks.

"Why the fuck are you paying for an empty room? No, better yet, why did you lie to me about it?" You loudly demanded, just shy of shouting.

He stumbled over his words, looking up to see you with your eyebrows raised, arms folded across your chest, hip jutted out—the perfect picture of barely contained rage.

"Well, I—you see, it's—" he dragged a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "It's complicated?"

"Yeah, no shit. You were so pissy about me moving—it makes no sense! Just tell me the truth for once, Bucky!" Your voice raised higher, your hands flying around as the confusion and aggravation took hold of you.

Bucky's own frustration started to seep through, the volume of his voice a notch below yours. "I was upset because you were leaving—and you didn't seem to care about us, just running straight to Dean for help!"

He was upset? He had no fucking right to be upset.

Hot, frustrated tears flooded your eyes without your permission. "I left because of you, Bucky! No one else, just you." You stepped toward him, pushing a finger into his ridiculously sturdy chest. "And I didn't run to Dean! He offered to help after he watched me have a fucking breakdown over you."

His glistening eyes stared into yours, his eyebrows drawn upwards in distress. "…What?"

A crack had fractured the dam keeping you contained, your pent up thoughts and feelings crashing through and destroying the concrete barrier.

"Every fucking day I came home feeling like my world—my heart—was being torn apart—" your voice cracked and you turned around, starting to pace the length of your old room. "And I know, I fucking know, it's not your fault—that my delusional mind and hopeless romantic heart are to blame for reading into things that weren't there, for creating a fantasy of you—of us."

You wiped away your flowing tears, sniffling as you tried to catch your breath. "But now, you expect me to, what—feel bad for leaving? I was barely human." You let out a wet, humourless laugh.

"What are you talking about?!" He demanded desperately, his face shining with frustration and something akin to hope.

"I'm talking about the goddamn walls, Bucky! I don't know if you know but they're pretty fucking thin! And every Wednesday and Saturday night I heard you and her—I heard the guy I was obsessed with fucking somebody else and it killed me."

"I only started seeing her to get you out of my head!" Both his hands found their way to his hair, tugging the dark strands in frustration. "And maybe I wanted to make you jealous—which I know is a terrible—"

You closed the distance between you in two quick strides, reaching out to shove his chest. "Jealous? You wanted to make me jealous?!" You seethed out, your fists hitting his chest as your vision blurred. "Are you blind?! Everyone could see how infatuated I was with you." Your hits lost their strength, your cheeks growing even more wet.

"Hey," Bucky whispered softly, his hands gently encircling your wrists and his thumbs rubbing tender patterns on your radial pulse. "Breathe for me."

"No," you stubbornly whispered back, despite your panting breaths slowing to match his. You drew in staggering breaths, finally noticing how hard your heart was beating—your body shaking with every thump. Your fists unfurled, your palms resting flat on his broad chest—the fast pounding of his heart a near match to yours.

He let go of your wrists, his hands cupping your face delicately. He wiped your tears away with such care it made your heart ache. Your vision cleared enough to focus on his face, seeing his eyes shining with their own tears.

"I think we're both a bit blind, sweetheart. Everyone can see how smitten I am with you." He rested his forehead against yours, the space around you two growing charged in the aftermath of your anger. "Sam gives me shit about it every day." His breathy laugh ghosted your lips, leaving tingles in it's wake. His voice dropped low, "I'm so fucking in love with you I was leaving reviews about you like some—like a hopeless sap, hoping you would realise it was me."

His confession of love flew over your head, incredulity controlling your mind. "That was you?!" You gasped, pushing his chest lightly. "I thought I had a stalker, you idiot."

The memory of the night you and Allie read all the reviews ran through your head, remembering the disturbingly romantic details written; remembering the reviews you secretly reread like a guilty pleasure, going to sleep with a giddy smile and fluttering butterflies because someone was noticing you.

"That's all you took from that?" He shook his head minutely, one of his hands brushing down your back to cradle your waist. "I'm trying to tell you I'm in love with you here."

You stepped out of his embrace, your mind still picking through all the small details. "But—the first review was, like—" you started to pace again, your hands resting atop your head. "It was well over a year ago!" Your voice raised again, recalling how horrible you felt only a month ago—the heartbreak you could've avoided. "Why did you never say anything?!"

"Because I was scared!" His voice raised to meet yours. "I didn't want to ruin things and lose you forever!"

"Yeah, well look at how that turned out!" You gestured wildly to the empty room.

"Why are we shouting again?" Bucky walked towards you, reaching for your hands. You were both breathing heavily, the sound of your pants echoing in the emptiness as your chests heaved up and down.

"Because I'm mad at you." You finally met his eyes, the blue bleeding with regret and sorrow. Your voice dropped lower, timidness starting to creep in. "You…you broke my heart, Buck."

He gripped your hands tighter, raising one to rest on his chest—right above his heart. "I am going to spend every day until I die trying to make it up to you." His remorse polluted the air around you, tears welling in your eyes once again—this time from the pain clouding his. "If you'll let me."

"That's a bit dramatic," you mumbled, sniffling lightly. "Until you're fifty is fine."

He laughed, wet and husky. He let go of your hands to cup your face again, smoothing his thumbs along your cheekbones. Your breath hitched at the touch, the pain in your system being diluted by the drug that is Bucky.

He leaned in closer, his eyes darting between yours and your lips. "I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

You managed a small nod before his lips were on yours—desperate and aching, stealing the breath from your lungs. One of his hands shifted to the back of your neck, tilting your head to kiss you deeper. Your hands found his chest again, fisting his shirt and causing a groan to sound in the back of his throat. He took control of the kiss with no complaint from you—happily letting him suck your bottom lip before nipping it, opening for him when his tongue grazed your lips.

The first touch of his tongue against yours had fire scorching down your body, the intensity of his kisses settling in your gut and awakening the need you've had for him for over a year.

The annoying human need for air had you pulling away from his lips, gasping as you tried to catch your breath. His stubble scratched your skin as he trailed kisses along your jaw, tilting your head to reach the sensitive spot below your ear. He gave it a soft experimental kiss, his tongue darting out and drawing a small whine from you.

His chest rumbled beneath your hands. "You talk about the walls being thin—trust me, I know." He stepped forward, his fingers dancing down your sides to grasp your hips, backing you into the wall. "I know you like to beg, what pretty sounds you make when you're about to come." He trailed his nose back along your jaw and down the other side of your neck, nestling into the crook and sniffing deeply with a small moan.

"Wh-what? I haven't—I never brought anyone home." You stuttered out, head starting to feel heavy from the lust fogging it.

"No, but you still have needs, don't you?" He let out a small chuckle, trailing feather-light kisses along your collarbone. "You thought you were alone, thought it didn't matter how loud you let yourself be." He pulled back, bringing a hand up to brush his fingers along your cheek, making their way down your neck. Onyx eyes met yours—a shiver racing down your spine at the barely contained hunger in them. "I came home with a migraine and you were so wrapped up in pleasure you didn't even hear me—but I heard you. And shit, doll, the noises you made cured my migraine faster than any pain meds ever have." He dropped his forehead to yours, his breath fanning your lips. "I had to fuck my fist three times that night. I replayed every little whimper, moan, every gasp of please until it drove me insane."

A gasp escaped you at his admission, heat rolling through your body—a mix of embarrassment and hunger swirling in your core.

"And then, like it was the universe's sole purpose to bring me to my knees, you walked in the next day wearing this dress." His fingers drifted to the neckline of your dress, toying with it as your breasts moved rapidly beneath. "Looking like a fucking angel sent here to torture me. Like sin wrapped in white lace. I had to leave before I dropped to my knees and begged for a taste—to let me worship you."

Your heart was trying to beat out of your chest, the throbbing in your core escalating with every word he murmured into your lips.

"You kept on wearing it, and I had to pretend like I wasn't replaying those sounds every time I saw you—like my dick wasn't rock hard at just a glimpse of this fucking dress." The hand on your neckline travelled down to the line of lace below your breasts—his thumb stroking along it making your breath stutter and nipples harden. "I had to do something, I felt like I was going insane. I started seeing her to get you out of my head—didn't fucking work now, did it?"

The mention of her cut through the Bucky induced haze, and you hesitated—needing clarification before you could let him consume you.

"Are you still seeing her?" You whispered.

"Fuck no, we were strictly casual. I broke it off the day you left."

Your head reared back an inch, hitting the wall lightly. "You know that doesn't make me feel better, right? That you only wanted to sleep with her because I was in the next room."

Both his hands gripped your waist, squeezing gently. "Okay, that—that wasn't what I was trying to get at." He lifted his head to stare into your eyes. "What I meant was that you leaving really showed how much of an idiot I'd been, wasting my time with her when you were right next door."

"Why didn't you reach out, then?"

He shrugged, his eyes darting away nervously. "I didn't think I had a right to. I wasn't exactly proud of how I acted the last time we spoke."

You saw Bucky almost every day for over a year—you knew he didn't get outwardly nervous often, and you knew when he was being vulnerable and honest. The Bucky in front of you wasn't lying—you could tell he was genuinely worried he'd messed everything up.

You relented with a sigh, lacing your hands around his neck. "I think it's time you start making it up to me."

"Gladly," he said before pulling you into him and kissing you deeply. He pressed his hips against yours, pushing you harder into the wall. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your stomach, your core trembling and aching in anticipation.

The pace of the kiss picked up, Bucky's tongue licking into your mouth with a deep moan. His grip on your hips tightened and he spun you around, walking you backwards towards his room without removing his mouth from yours.

He kicked the door shut behind him, leading you towards his bed with his hands drifting down to squeeze your ass. You broke away with a moan, your lips swollen and chin tender from his stubble.

"Sit down for me, sweetheart." Bucky rasped out. You quickly obliged—your need for him making you ready to do anything he said.

He kneeled on the floor in front of you, slowly taking your shoes off. His hands trailed up your bare legs, stopping when they reached the hem of your dress.

He pressed a soft kiss to your knee. "You gonna let me make you feel good?" He mumbled into your skin.

You nodded rapidly, your hands clenching his sheets in desperation.

He clicked his tongue. "I need words, angel."

"Yes, Bucky—please. Please touch me," you gasped out, the sight of him on his knees robbing your intelligence.

His mouth tilted into a smirk, his eyes gleaming. "There you go with that begging again."

He clasped your knees, spreading your legs open. His breath tickled the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, goosebumps erupting and surging up to your core. He pressed light kisses along one thigh, stopping when he got to your dress and switching to the other.

You could feel slick leaking out of your cunt, your clit pulsing from the lack of attention.

"Buck, stop teasing, please." You whined softly, lifting a hand to push the hair away from his eyes. He nuzzled into your hand, turning to press a kiss into your palm. Your hand vibrated as he hummed low.

He grasped the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly up to your hips. "Lean back f'me."

You leaned back on your elbows, your body trembling with need as his hands scorched paths up your thighs.

He let out a low groan once your dress was up past your hips—revealing your soaked panties to him. His eyes locked onto them, his pupils dilating until only a sliver of blue remained.

"All this from a little kissing?" He brushed a thumb along the wet patch, grazing your clit. Your head fell back with a loud gasp, your hips twitching towards his touch.

"Sensitive," he mumbled. His hand moved, tracing the edge of your panties—you were sure he could feel the heartbeat pulsing in your core. "How long has it been?"

You lifted your head up, looking into his dark eyes—the desire in them reflecting your own. "Since before I—"

You cut yourself off with a soft moan, your body jerking as Bucky pressed his thumb to your clit through your underwear—circling it with a steady pressure.

"What was that?" He asked smugly.

Your chest heaved as you tried to wade through the sensations buzzing through you. "Since before I moved in," you rushed out quickly, another moan escaping you at the feeling of his touch directly on your pussy—his hand slipping underneath the wet fabric.

"Fuck," he breathed out through clenched teeth. He grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs quickly. He groaned out looking at your exposed cunt, and you tried to close your legs on instinct.

He gripped your thighs to stop them from closing. "None of that," he growled out lowly. "Let me look at her."

His hands trailed up your thighs until they reached your bare hips, yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You fell onto your back softly, your breath shaking from the impact.

He pulled your lips apart and moaned loudly. "She's fucking dripping, sweetheart."

You clenched at his words, his teasing leaving you aching and squirming. He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss millimetres away from where you needed him most. He breathed you in deeply making your hips buck up with a needy whine.

"Bucky, please."

He dragged a single finger from entrance to clit, pulling it back with a string of your arousal connecting the two of you. You sighed at the small touch, opening your eyes to see Bucky suck the tip of his finger.

He groaned at your taste, hands grabbing the back of your thighs to push your legs back and spread you wider.

"Gonna make her feel so good, pretty girl." He slurred out, his lips trailing a path of fire up to your core. "Be a good girl and make those noises for me again."

He dove in, licking the same path as his finger. His groan vibrated through you and your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands as you gasped.

"Taste so fucking good," he mumbled before latching onto your clit. He sucked gently, circling the nub with his tongue. You rewarded him with a tug to his hair and a shaky moan.

He picked up the pace, moaning as he went from tasting you to devouring. He thrusted his tongue into you, lapping up everything he could. The room filled with the lewd sounds of your slick and his saliva coating your pussy—with your unabashed moans and gasps bouncing off the walls.

He pulled away from you, his chin and beard glistening. "That's it, pretty. Being such a good girl." You whined at the praise, using your hold on his hair to push his face back into you.

Your hips rocked against his face, the flame in your core growing fast. He moved an arm to your hips, holding them down to keep you still. He sucked your clit harshly, your back arching at the pleasure he was unleashing on you. You gasped out his name as your orgasm built rapidly.

"Fuck, Bucky—right there! Please, I'm gonna—" you cut off with a loud moan, your body jolting from him lightly biting your clit. Stars started to dot your vision as he continued to feast on you like a starved man—like you were his first sip of water after wandering the desert.

The knot in your core clenched tight before it unravelled, Bucky's groans vibrating through you pushing you over the edge. You came with a cry, your hands yanking his hair hard. A blissful fire spread throughout you, making your toes curl and head float.

Bucky drank up your release, prolonging your high until you were shaking and trying to push his head away. He relented, moving back to kiss and nip your inner thighs. Your heavy panting filled the room, your pussy twitching as you came down.

You propped yourself up on weak elbows, your droopy eyes meeting his glazed, pussy drunk ones.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered reverently. He moved back in closer, his breath fanning your cunt making you clench around nothing. "Another one."

He slowly licked at your hole, leaving your overstimulated clit throbbing painfully. Your arms gave out, a whimper crawling up your throat. You brought a hand up to your chest, squeezing a breast over your dress—trying to relieve the ache in them.

"Fuck, look at you," Bucky cooed, pulling away from you to stand up. "As much as I love this dress, I think you'll look even more beautiful without it."

You nodded, sitting up slightly so he could pull it over your head. Your eyes were level with his crotch, seeing the large bulge tenting his pants—your mouth salivating already. Once your dress was off you reached a hand out, palming his hard dick over his pants. You gasped at the heavy feel of him, your walls clenching at the thought of him stretching you open.

His head rolled back with a moan, a hand catching your wrist to stop your movements. "Not right now." You let out a displeased whine and his mouth twitched with a smirk. "Later, promise. Lay back down so I can worship you."

He grasped the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, leaving you to gape at his insane torso. You had seen it before but you always adverted your eyes quickly, scared of getting caught staring. Now, you could stare and touch all you wanted.

You leaned up to run a hand over his bare chest, his body scorching beneath your skin. You trailed a finger down the hard ridges lining his body, a thrill running through you as his muscles rippled and breath stuttered. Your mouth found his pecks, lathering them in wet kisses while your hand teased the waistband of his pants. He grasped your chin, jerking your head up to look at him. His jaw was tense and eyebrows furrowed, a slight darkness shadowing his face.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "What did I just say, sweetheart?" He mumbled, his tone laced with warning.

Before you could reply, his hands grasped your waist and pushed you up the bed until your head met his pillow. He crawled on top of you, kissing your neck.

"Thought you were gonna be a good girl." He mumbled, biting the spot below your ear and making you gasp. He pulled on one of your bra straps, letting it snap back onto your skin. You gasped louder at the small stinging sensation, the slight pain dousing your core in gasoline.

"Please, I am—I will be. M'sorry." You whimpered out, tilting your head back as he continued his assault on your neck.

He hummed in response, sucking on your pulse point before trailing lower—his stubble scraping the top of your breasts. He reached a hand behind your back, unclasping your bra with ease before pulling the straps down your arms slowly.

Your nipples hardened more once exposed to the cool air, begging for Bucky's attention. He lavished your breasts in kisses, covering every inch of skin with his spit. One of your hands clutched onto his bicep while the other wound into his hair again. He continued to avoid your nipples and you squirmed underneath him, trying to move his head to where you wanted him.

He relented, licking a nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned from the relief and the zaps of pleasure racing down your torso. He pinched your abandoned nipple, rolling it between his thumb and finger as he bit down on the other one. You arched off the bed with a loud whine, the pain and pleasure morphing into one. He switched nipples, dolling out the same sweet torture with moans lodged in his throat.

Once both your nipples were raw and aching he kissed down your abdomen, hands clutching your hips as his mouth worshipped your stomach. You giggled at his beard tickling your sensitive skin and he lifted his head, his blown out eyes meeting yours with a soft—almost unbelieving—smile.

"You're breathtaking," he whispered. "And you're all mine, yeah?"

"Yes, Buck. Only yours."

He hummed in approval, pressing a light kiss to your hip. "Good. 'Cause I'm yours, angel. I'm sorry it took so long for me to say."

He moved back down to where you were dripping onto his sheets, your body wound tight from your first orgasm and his teasing. He licked into you without hesitation, drawing out loud noises from you as he sucked your sensitive clit.

"You're so wet—wanna live between these thighs, doll."

A hand left your hip to poke at your entrance, one finger sliding in easily before your walls squeezed at the intrusion. He pumped it in and out slowly until you were begging for more. A second slipped in, both of them curling upwards and grazing the spot that had you arching off the bed with a sound you'd never made before.

He lifted his head up, praising you for how good you were being—telling you how pretty you sounded. His mouth descended on your clit again and his fingers picked up their pace.

Your head rolled around on his pillow, the dual stimulation to your pussy making a heat rush through you like you'd never experienced with anyone else. You could feel how he was paying attention to you, altering his movements to gauge what sounds he could pull out of you—getting to know what you liked.

The ball tightened faster than the first time, your body edging on being overstimulated. Both your hands were fisting the sheets, your hips grinding against Bucky's face and fucking his fingers—the obscene squelch of your pussy soaking his hand mixing with your moans and gasps.

"Let me come—please. Been s'good for you, Buck—"

You know you didn't need his permission to come, but begging and submitting to him felt so good. Your own words pulled the coil in your core tighter—his resounding moan shaking through you telling you how much they affected him too.

A third finger joined in and you clenched down hard, the stretch almost throwing you off the cliff. They curled into your spot over and over, his other hand moving to push down on your lower stomach—causing something between a moan and squeal to leave you.

"Course you can come for me, sweetheart. I want nothing more than this sweet pussy drenching me."

With one last curl of his fingers and suck to your clit, your body started to shake, the ball bursting and sending waves crashing through you. Your eyes rolled back and your ears started ringing, deaf to the borderline animalistic noises you were letting out. You clamped down on his fingers hard, your juices gushing out and coating his hand—dripping and staining his sheets.

Your head was up in the clouds, cotton filling the space your brain used to be. You briefly registered his mouth leaving your overstimulated and raw nub, his fingers still moving slowly as you floated through your high. Small, gentle kisses across your cheeks, nose, and eyelids had you giggling breathlessly. Your body felt heavy, your eyelids struggling to open.

"You doin' okay?" Bucky whispered into your temple, peppering more light kisses to your forehead. You hummed softly.

"Need'a minute," you slurred out.

His fingers slowed and then left you, a whine slipping past your lips at the emptiness. You felt a hand rubbing soothing circles onto your scalp, your body turning towards his warmth. You slowly opened your eyes to find him staring at you, electric blue lazily roaming around your face.

"Hi," you whispered, lifting a heavy hand to push hair behind his ear. He grabbed your hand and covered it in soft kisses, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Hi. How you feeling?"

You leaned in, nuzzling your nose against his. "Good—really good," you muttered before kissing him softly. Your hand weaved into his hair, pulling him in as your kiss grew more passionate.

One of his hands cradled your jaw and the other spanned the small of your back, pushing you into his bulge. You bit his lip teasingly, revelling in his body shuddering and drinking down the moan he let free.

You grinded your hips against his—gasping and whimpering at the rough fabric of his pants dragging against your oversensitive pussy. He responded in kind, rutting his bulge into you with a groan.

"Want you inside of me," you mumbled into his lips, throwing a leg over his to roll your hips harder.

"Fuck—okay," he breathed out. He pulled away to reach for his bedside drawer but your hand on his chest stopped him.

"Are you clean?"

His eyes widened and he nodded dumbly. "I got tested the other week—wait, I'll show you." He reached for his phone but you stopped him with a giggle.

"I believe you. I'm clean—obviously. And on birth control."

His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, pupils dilating until they physically couldn't anymore.

"Are you sure?" He gripped your face in his hands, eyes darting between yours. "I only used condoms with her so I understand—"

That fact pleased you absurdly, your hand trailing down his chest to his groin—squeezing his heavy bulge. "I'm sure. Wanna feel you, all of you."

He pulled you into a searing kiss, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. Your mouth moved against his eagerly, both your hands on his waistband to unbotton and unzip his pants. You reached a hand into his boxers, a gasp leaping out as you wrapped your hand around him—his cock throbbing and big. You briefly worried about the limp you'll have later.

He panted above you, his eyes closing as you stroked him slowly. You could feel his boxers damp with pre-cum, beads of it dripping from his tip. You brushed your thumb over it and he moaned gutturally, eyes opening as you pulled your hand out. You kept eye contact with him as you brought your thumb up to your lips, licking his pre-cum before sucking it into your mouth with a satisfied moan.

He pulled your thumb out, tracing his own along your lip before you sucked on it—twirling your tongue around it.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me, angel." He groaned out.

He pushed away to pull his pants and boxers off, throwing them behind him carelessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his cock standing proud—your mouth somehow simultaneously drying up and drooling at the sight. He was the biggest you'd ever seen—long and thick, the tip flushed red with his need. Your knees fell apart on instinct, the fire building up just looking at him.

"Wanna take a picture?" He teased.

"Another time," you whispered, surging up to grab his shoulders and pull him back on top of you.

He chuckled into your mouth before it dissolved into a moan, your hips bucking up and smearing his cock with your slick.

He grabbed your hips, pulling them up slightly as he settled between your legs. You both broke off from the kiss with matching gasps, the feel of him sliding along your slit making you both dizzy. His tip bumped into your clit with each glide, whimpers echoing from your chest as you twitched from the stimulation.

"You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled, dropping his head to kiss and nip along your neck.

"Please," you whined, your hips rocking without thought.

He pulled back and looked down between you, groaning at his dick already glistening with you. He wrapped a hand around himself, tapping his head against your clit a few times. You squealed, starting to feel dizzy with desire. He shushed you gently, dragging a thumb along your cheekbone before positioning himself at your entrance.

His eyes met yours as he pushed in slowly, the intensity in them making you choke up. It had never felt like this before—never felt so passionate, adoring. It made everything feel elevated—your nerve endings singing with pleasure wherever he touched you.

You clenched down on him instinctively, your walls stretching around just the tip. Your chest heaved as you tried to relax—you weren't in pain, it just felt so fucking good.

"Be a good girl and let me in," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you.

Your legs opened wider for him, your core relaxing to let him push in further. Moans and gasps filled the air around you as he thrust slowly, sinking until he reached the hilt.

The breath knocked out of you, the feeling of him filling you completely making your head rush. He moved slowly at first, small thrusts to get you accommodated before pulling back until just the tip was inside. He sank home with deep moans, his cock pushing against your spot with every thrust.

You wrapped your legs around his waist making him reach deeper inside you. He picked up his pace, his hips meeting yours with soft slaps.

"You feel so good—oh, fuck!" He exclaimed as you clenched down on him.

"Harder, please." You moaned out, scratching your nails down his chest.

"Yeah? My pretty girl—my little angel—likes it rough?"

You nodded deliriously, the tension in your core sizzling with every thrust.

He sat up, bringing your hips with him. He held them up and delivered harsh thrusts—each one expelling a gasp out of you. Your legs tightened around him, his strength pushing you up the bed.

The headboard knocked against the wall, adding to the symphony of moans, whimpers, skin slapping that was already deafening the room. Each sound had you soaring higher, each thrust kissing your cervix sending a shock through you.

Bucky removed your legs from his waist, clutching your thighs to push them towards your chest. Your wide eyes met his with a gasp, the change in position igniting a roaring fire everywhere. He dropped forward slowly, pushing into you so far you swear you could feel him in your throat.

He groaned into your ear. "This is—god, you're made for me."

His thrusts resumed their previous pace, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Sweat beaded along his hairline from the exertion, his hair sticking to his temples—and he looked so beautiful, your eyes started to well with tears.

Everything rushed through you in an overwhelming burst—the heartache you suffered, the months of yearning and uncertainty, how much you loved him. How much he loved you.

Tears fell from your eyes as the sensations built higher and you grasped his face, pulling his forehead to yours. Your gentle kiss to his lips was a stark contrast to his cock drilling into you.

"I love you," you whispered, your words breaking on a sob of pleasure.

His hips stuttered, his eyes squeezing tightly. "You can't say that again or I'll blow my load." You laughed at his clear struggle to hold back, making him groan as you squeezed him tighter.

He continued his thrusts, wiping a thumb under your eye to catch your tears. "This is the only time I'm gonna make you cry from now on, yeah? Only gonna make you sob cause I'm fucking you so good."

You nodded, letting out little "uh-huh"'s as you climbed higher and higher.

"Play with your clit, sweetheart." Bucky rasped out.

Your hand snuck between your bodies to press circles around your clit—your back arching with a whine. Tears continued to track down your temples, wetting the pillow below you.

"Fill me up, please," you managed to get out between whimpers and sobs. Bucky's grip on your thighs tightened, surely leaving marks for you to admire over the next few days.

"Come with me," Bucky moaned, pressing a scorching kiss to your lips as his thrusts grew sloppy. You tensed below him, your body locking up before pure ecstasy barrelled through you. You came with a scream of his name, clenching down on his cock to keep him trapped. Your vision faded to white, your body trembling and pulsing.

Bucky groaned out your name as his orgasm rushed through him, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you as he filled you completely with cum.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest heaving against yours. He slowly lowered your legs then wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.

You laid there for a few minutes, the both of you gradually coming back down to earth. He pulled out of you slowly, the both of you groaning at the feeling. A mix of your releases dripped out of you, coating your ass and staining the sheets.

"Stay right here," Bucky said before giving you a chaste kiss, pulling his boxers on to run to the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel, sitting on the bed next to you to clean you up with gentle, reverent touches.

He climbed behind you, pulling you into his strong chest—a satisfied rumble vibrating your back. He kissed the back of your head, trailing towards your ear and giving your lobe a gentle bite.

"I love you too."

"When can we move your stuff back in?"

Bucky and you were still lying on his bed, basking in the warmth of each other as the afternoon sun trickled through his half closed curtains.

You turned in his arms, slinging a leg over his and booping his nose. "I think we should go on a couple dates before I move in with you."

His nose and eyes scrunched with that laugh you first fell in love with. "Oh, is that right?"

"Living together before you've even bought me flowers? Sounds a bit rash to me."

"I'll buy you a whole flower shop," he mumbled, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare hip. "Well, maybe not right away—I am paying for two rooms, y'know. Would be nice to be able to buy groceries next month."

You laughed softly, poking his bare chest. "Yeah, and whose fault is that again?"

He grumbled something unintelligible, hiding his face in your neck to lavish you in more kisses.

Wars were started over smiles less beautiful than hers.

The reminder of his reviews about you flourished in your mind, prompting you to pull his head away from your neck.

"So, you're James B? This whole time?"

His face bloomed red, a huff leaving him before he nervously licked his lips. "Yeah…"

"Why? Why start leaving them in the first place, why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged slightly, lifting a hand to trace the lines of your face. "We were at the bar drinking, and some guy nearby pointed to you and said ratings must be higher with you working there. And—I don't know, I guess I was drunk enough to agree and then…it just happened?"

You furrowed your brows at him. "Why not just write in a journal?"

"Trust me, I was already doing that." He laughed softly, his eyes glowing. "I guess, in a weird way, I was telling you how I felt without actually telling you. Stupid, I know."

Warmth started to spread from your chest. "It took us ages to even notice the reviews—we only realised they were there because Dean assumed one was about him."

Bucky tensed under your hands. "Fucking Dean," he muttered.

"…Are you jealous?"

The blush on his cheeks grew, his eyes avoiding yours. "He was always staring at you, and you laughed with him like—like you did with me. I thought there was something goin' on."

Is it bad that him being jealous is turning you on?

"You have nothing to worry about, Dean is a gross womaniser who I only see as an annoying brother." You pushed at Bucky's chest, making him lie on his back as you straddled his hips. You pressed kisses along his chest, your hips slowly rocking against his. "He did tell me he wanted to sleep with me, though."

Bucky's hands grasped your hips harder, his face turning stormy. "I don't wanna hear you talkin' about another guy when you're on top of me, doll." He muttered low.

You leaned in to kiss him, your hips moving faster and drawing gasps out of the both of you—his dick already half hard under you. "You're so hot when you're jealous."

The sound of the front door opening had you both freezing—your former roommate's laughter drifting down the hall.

"Get dressed, lovebirds!" Sam's voice rang out. "We've got fish to fry!"

a/n: thank you to this pic on pinterest that inspired half the plot (i couldn't get the ho to fit into a moodboard 😔)

Your fingers twist in the hem of your sleeve as you sit on the couch, angled just slightly toward him. Bucky’s sprawled beside you, long legs stretched out, one arm hooked over the back of the couch like he owns the space without even trying. There’s a quiet movie playing on the TV, something neither of you are really paying attention to. His attention keeps drifting back to you anyway—little glances, soft and curious.

You notice every single one of them.

You always do.

Your knee bumps his accidentally and your heart jumps like you’ve done something wrong. He doesn’t pull away, though. If anything, his leg shifts just a little closer, pressing more firmly against yours.

God.

You swallow.

“Buck?” you try, and immediately want to hide.

His head turns toward you instantly. “Yeah, doll?” His voice is soft, warm in that way that always makes your chest feel too tight.

You open your mouth.

Nothing comes out.

Because suddenly the words feel embarrassing. Too needy. Too much. What if he doesn’t want to? What if he’s comfortable like this and you mess it up? What if—

You shake your head quickly. “Nothing. Sorry.”

You turn your attention back to the TV like you didn’t just implode right next to him.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then, quieter, closer—“Hey.”

His hand finds your wrist. Not grabbing, not forcing. Just there. Thumb brushing gently over your pulse like he’s checking in.

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod too fast. “Mhm.”

Another pause.

His thumb keeps moving.

“Because,” he says slowly, like he’s choosing his words with care, “you’ve been fidgeting for the last ten minutes. And you keep lookin’ at me like you’ve got somethin’ to say.”

Your face burns.

“I—no, I haven’t.”

Bucky huffs out a quiet, amused breath; eyes twinkling in fondness.

“Doll.”

And that’s it. That one word, all warm and coaxing, and you crumble.

“I just—” you start, and your voice immediately gets smaller. “I was just wondering if, um—if you maybe wanted to—like, if you’re not busy or anything—”

His brows pull together, not in frustration, just confusion. “Not busy,” he repeats gently.

“Right, yeah, I know, I just mean—if you didn’t want to, that’s totally fine, I just—”

“Hey.” His hand slides up from your wrist to your arm, grounding. “Slow down. What’re you askin’ me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

You might actually pass away.

You take a breath, staring determinedly at a spot on the couch instead of at him.

“Can we… cuddle?” you mumble, so quiet it barely counts as sound. “Just for a little bit. If that’s okay.”

Silence.

Oh God.

You knew it. You knew you shouldn’t have asked. You start to pull back, already preparing to laugh it off, to say you didn’t mean it, to pretend—

“Oh.”

It’s soft. Almost breathless.

You risk a glance up.

Bucky looks like you just handed him something precious.

His expression has completely melted. There’s no other word for it. The sharp lines of his face have gone soft, eyes wide and warm and a little bit awed, like he can’t believe you just asked him that.

“Yeah,” he says immediately. Then, a little stronger, like he needs to make sure you hear him properly, “Yeah, of course we can.”

Your shoulders loosen just a fraction. “Really?”

“Really?” he echoes, almost incredulous. “Doll, you never gotta ask like it’s a big favor.”

“I just didn’t wanna bother you,” you admit, voice small again.

That does something to him.

You see it, the way his jaw tightens just slightly.

“You could never bother me,” he says, quiet but firm.

Before you can overthink it again, he’s already moving.

His arm drops from the back of the couch, sliding around your shoulders, guiding you gently into him. Like he’s giving you every chance to change your mind, even though you never would.

You go easily, curling into his side.

And the second you settle against him, it’s like something in him gives.

He exhales, long and slow, like he’s been holding that breath all day. His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer until you’re practically draped over him. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, pressing you into his chest.

“There we go,” he murmurs, more to himself than anything.

You can hear his heartbeat. Feel it under your cheek—steady, strong.

Safe.

Your hand curls against his shirt, bunching the fabric lightly as you relax into him. The earlier nerves start to fade, replaced by something warm and soft that spreads through your chest.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment, voice low.

“Mhm,” you hum. “Sorry I made it weird.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating through you.

“You didn’t make it weird,” he says. “You made my day.”

You tilt your head just enough to look up at him. “I did?”

“Yeah.” His thumb starts tracing slow, absent circles against your arm. “You askin’ for this? Means you want me close.” A small pause. “I like that.”

Your face heats again, but it’s softer this time. Less panic, more… something shy and happy.

“I always want you close,” you admit.

That completely ruins him.

You feel it in the way his hold on you tightens, not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you there. Like he’s not letting go anytime soon.

“Then c’mere whenever you want,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t make yourself nervous over it, alright?”

You nod against his chest.

“Okay.”

His fingers drift through your hair, slow and careful, and the movie continues playing in the background, forgotten.

You stay tucked against him, warm and quiet, listening to his heartbeat.