meg

It was an effort to keep the curiosity and feelings under lock and key – having been very successful at it, if you said so yourself. Tonight would be no different. Bucky would arrive at your door at any moment, take out in hand, and his handsome smile and irresistible charm-

No, stop it, you scolded yourself, taking a deep breath. “Chill, girl,” you muttered, gathering the final blanket from your closet for the blanket den in the living room. The butterflies in your stomach slowed a notch, and your muscles relaxed. 

As if you had summoned the devil himself, three solid knocks on your front door announced Bucky’s arrival. “Come in!” you called, walking quickly into the living room to deposit the blanket. “I’m in the living room, Buck.”

The door swung open, and footfalls sounded in the entryway. “Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted loudly, the rustling of plastic bags and fabric as he took off his shoes followed his call. “Sorry I’m late; the shoot ran later than I had hoped.”

“You’re good,” you soothed, that same fire sparking at the mention of his work. “How are you?”

“Just fine,” Bucky said, right behind you. You jumped and spun round to find him grinning happily. “How ‘bout you? Ready for tonight?”

The sight of him rendered you speechless for a second – his broad shoulders and chest were covered in a black Henley and leather jacket, and his thighs were clothed in tight black jeans that were stylistically faded. Normally, Bucky wore his hair up in a low ponytail, only keeping it loose for shoots (not that you knew, of course not), but something was different about it right now… Tonight he had it down, fanning to rest at the base of his neck and spreading over his shoulders. 

Shit.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You startled and blinked – staring, you had been staring at him. Fuck, you cursed silently. “Sorry, Buck–long day,” you lied, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the thought that Bucky left his hair down- Oh, god, no- “But it’s been good. And you don’t think I can’t take a marathon, huh?”

Bucky smirked. “I know you can’t handle a marathon, cutie.”

“Bucky!” you sputtered, and he just laughed, shaking his head.

“Sorry, sorry–you walked into that one. Anyway,” he said, looking at the blankets laid on the couch. “You get the plates and shit, then we can start.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” you retorted, making him snort. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw Bucky taking off his jacket out of the corner of your eye, and he placed it on the back of the recliner. His back and arm muscles rippled with the movement, and you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered, the fire roaring at the sight. Get it fucking together, you chided yourself, hastily reaching for the plates you needed. 

Bucky groaned loudly as he flopped down onto the couch and into his spot, his head thrown back. “Fucking work, I tell you. They’re making me fit more in each damn day,” he complained, running a hand over his face. 

You frowned – it wasn’t like him to complain about his job. He loved it, truly loved it. “Are you alright, Buck?” you asked from the doorway.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just… I just wish they’d take in and listen to what I want to do, y’know, into account. Like,” he gestured mindlessly. “I love what I do, but I just want something else. Fucking twinks and blondes all day is great. Don’t get me wrong–I just want something else, just once. Variety is the spice of life or some shit.”

Unable to think of anything in reply – more so the candid comment about just who he fucks, you walked into the living room and sat down on the couch next to him, grabbing his hand. “I know, bubs, you need a change.” Bucky smiled softly and squeezed your hand. Curious, you looked into his eyes and asked, “What is it that you want to do? I’m sure it’s something hella interesting.”

The look Bucky flashed at you was unreadable, almost considering; calculating in nature. “Just something, doll,” he said evasively. “Now, let’s dig in. I’m starving.”

You smiled and reached for the remote, handing it to Bucky. “You chose, you deserve it.”

The TV played quietly in the background as you two ate, catching one another up on the few day’s ventures from when you had last seen one another. Bucky had many, many shoots – his popularity skyrocketing, going by the analytics of his latest uploads of which he bragged heartily about. You congratulated him, despite the pride and jealousy swirling in your chest at the words. Sincerity wasn’t an issue. You were, in fact, very proud of him, but you wanted it – wanted him. 

Inwardly sighing, you began to regale your couple of days. Work had been busy, and the annoying co-worker was being useless, as usual. The small frown on Bucky’s lips at the news made your heart flutter. “Y’know, doll, you could always-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t think it’s for me.” Never mind that you’d never experienced anything within the spectrum of his career – too busy with your own job and life, and no one gave you a second glance. “Anyway, I wouldn’t wanna steal your fanbase,” you teased while winking, which pulled a laugh from the brunette.

Dinner passed quickly after that, and you were curled up on the couch, blanket on your lap as you focused on the TV, the scene tense when Bucky shifted. You looked over, but he was still staring at the TV, though he was closer to you – his thigh almost touching yours. 

You raised a brow, staring at his profile until he glanced over at you. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes narrowed. “Don't try to deny it, I see it. You're planning something.”

“I am not,” Bucky said innocently, smirking.

You continued to stare at him, brows furrowing. “You know, smirking while saying you’re innocent negates the fact that you are, y’know, innocent.”

Bucky snorted with laughter and shifted even closer. “I just wanna be next to you. That alright?”

“Okay…” The warmth from his bulk made you tense – unsure how to cope with the fact that the man you wanted much more with had moved to sit right next to you, his intentions unclear and unknown. 

Half an hour later, the TV rolled the credits, and you sighed happily, stretching to the ceiling. “Another?” you asked before turning to look at Bucky.

The expression on his face made you freeze in place – warmth enveloped your entire being, and your mouth fell open slightly. It was a devastating stare, hungry and predatory all in one, and he looked famished. 

“Bubs? What–?”

“I have danced around this for so fucking long, and I can’t do it anymore.” Bucky shifted, his body now fully facing yours, and you gulped. “I have seen the way you’ve been looking at me for months now, doll-”

“But-”

Bucky held his hand up, and you fell silent. “Let me finish, sweetheart.” The use of a pet name caused butterflies to come to life in your stomach, and you gave in. You leaned back against the couch cushions to better see him. “I know you know about my lifestyle, and yet, you’re not afraid to get close–you’re my best friend, and I know it’s greedy and downright selfish, but I want more.”

Silence. You couldn’t breathe – couldn’t think… “What?”

“I want you, doll.”

“Oh,” you managed, voice high pitched. “Uh–”

“Take it easy, I don’t mind waiting for you,” Bucky soothed, his hand reaching out to hold yours. 

“But–but I haven’t–” You swallowed, hesitating and feeling the dreaded panic start to flood your nerves. 

“Haven’t what?” Bucky asked gently, his eyes searching yours. 

“Had a… a boyfriend,” you mumbled, grimacing. “I-I, um- I haven’t had one before.”

Bucky stared, eyes slightly widened. "You haven't- Wait, are you telling me you've never had a partner romantically or sexually?”

Shame curled in your stomach, and you shied away, looking down into your lap and doing all you could to avoid his gaze. 

“No, no–don’t hide from me, sweetheart. Look at me,” Bucky pleaded, “please, please look at me.”

You looked up slowly, meeting his gaze. Tears lined your eyes, and you felt embarrassed – the heat that had consumed you a second before twisted into shameful nausea. Of course Bucky would be ashamed, he had sex for a living, and yet, here you were, a virgin at your age with no experience-

“Stop. I mean it, stop it, doll,” Bucky cut in firmly, his hands squeezing yours tightly. “I can see those ugly thoughts in your eyes.”

“But, me?” you whispered, sniffling quietly. “Me? When you could have literally anyone you wanted?”

“It’s always been you, sweetheart,” Bucky replied, expression pained. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.” 

“Oh, wow,” you breathed, your bottom lip trembling. “But, Bucky, I’ve never-”

“If you’re telling me you’ve never had sex, that ain’t what bugs me.” The words made your brows furrow, and Bucky sighed. “What bugs me is that you’re so upset that you’ve not got experience–baby, if I am your first for anything, I would be fucking honoured. If you would have me.”

You stared at Bucky for a moment, considering. He was your best friend, the one you’d fallen head over heels for – trust had long been established, and you felt safe with him. This is what you had wanted for so fucking long.

Fuck it, you thought. 

“Please,” you whispered, looking at Bucky. “Please.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in close. “Can I kiss you, baby?” His breath fanned over your lips, and you nodded, moving into the feel of his hand cupping your cheek. “Fuck.”

Your lips met softly in a chaste kiss that shocked you with the feeling of utter passion and devotion poured into it. A small noise escaped your throat without your consent. Bucky's reaction of pulling you closer boosted your confidence, and you shuffled into his space, almost effectively sitting in his lap. 

The sensation of his hand moving to cup the side of your neck made you shiver, and Bucky slowly pulled back from the kiss. "You're sensitive, aren't you, baby?" he remarked. 

You bit your lip. “Never felt that before-”

“Oh, baby,” Bucky purred, grinning widely. “I am gonna blow your mind, but first, if you want to stop, you tell me, and I’ll stop. I will not hurt you.”

“Okay.” Bucky’s hands moved from your face and neck to your waist. 

"Lie back for me, baby girl," he said, directing you to recline on the couch. "I want to show you something." Following his direction, you landed gently on your back. "Now, I want to double-check with you–do you want this? Want me to be your first?"

Without hesitation, you said, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted–I want you, Bucky, please-”

Bucky moaned quietly, and you found you wanted to hear that sound again. “You’re gonna be the fucking end of me, sweetheart.”

His hands moved to your hips again, and he grabbed the waistband of your pants, giving a small tug. You lifted your hips in permission, all while shivering in anticipation, and Bucky worked your leggings and panties off – your lower half was bare, and you had no idea what to expect next. Sure, you’d seen porn, and you knew what sex was, but experiencing it? It fucking terrified and exhilarated you. 

“Have you got protection, baby?” Bucky asked suddenly, tossing your clothes onto the coffee table next to the abandoned food. 

"Bathroom." Bucky raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged. You watched as he walked into your bathroom, and then a second later, he appeared with a box and a tube. 

"Now, have you ever used any toys or had any kind of penetration before, doll?" Bucky asked, looking at you with a reassuring smile. 

Embarrassment surged up your spine and curled your stomach again. Bucky sensed it, and he smiled softly. "I need you to be honest, sweetheart. If you haven't, it's alright–I told you, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I'm going to take care of you.”

“No…” you whispered. 

Bucky swooped in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for being honest with me, baby. Good girl.”

A small squeak left your lips at the praise, and Bucky grinned. “Oh? You like being called a good girl, huh?” Unbidden, your thighs clamped together, and he saw. “You do… that’s a good thing, sweetheart. Because you are my good girl–daddy’s sweet little thing, huh?”

His voice was so deep and low that you swore you could feel it in your very bones, and the words shot straight to your cunt that had started to leak. “D-Daddy?”

“I know that you know about that, baby. You call me daddy, and I will give you anything you want.” Bucky shrugged, a coy smile on his lips. “Now, I’m gonna kneel right here,” he pointed at your thighs. “And you’re gonna lay there while I work. I can’t let that pussy be empty any longer–I know you must be aching.”

You whined – a sound you’d never made before, and Bucky moved in like a wolf to its prey. His hands rested on your knees as he settled, and before you knew it, he was resting his weight against your shins, staring at you with a softening expression. “You open these fucking gorgeous legs when you’re ready, sweetheart. We do this at your pace, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied quietly, and you bit your lip as his hands rubbed up and down the outsides of your thighs. “Okay–I’m ready.” Opening your thighs, Bucky exhaled heavily, his gaze immediately honing in on your pussy. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, “already wet for me, huh? Bet you’re real fucking keen to know just how it feels to be pleasured.”

You nod, eyes widening as Bucky’s hand moved to cup your sex. The touch was gentle, and you huffed in surprise when his fingers danced over your folds. “Yeah, y’are. Good fucking girl, proud of you already.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, squirming slightly. “Bucky-”

“Never been praised, sweetheart? That’s a shame,” he hummed, leaning close until his body hovered over yours. “Get used to it, baby, because when I’m done with you, you won’t know which way is up.”

A moan fell from your lips, and Bucky grinned. “Now, I’m going to go real slow, I need to stretch you out first. I would fuck you with my tongue, but I’m a lil’ impatient–I can do that later.”

“T-Tongue?” you stuttered, eyes wide. “You–?”

“Oh, baby, you really are an innocent kitten,” Bucky purred, and you shivered violently. “That’s alright, you’ve got a whole new world to experience, and lucky for you, daddy knows all the tricks of the trade.”

You laughed nervously, and Bucky kissed your nose. “Now, sweet thing, I’m gonna play with your clit a bit–get you excited.”

“O-Okay–Ah!” Insistent pressure circled your clit, and you keened. Having masturbated before this, it wasn’t a new sensation, but having another person do it was intense, and it pulled a cry from your lungs. “Bucky, oh my god!”

“I know, I know,” Bucky soothed, his fingers moving a little faster. “Stay with me, baby. I know it feels good.”

The circles on your clit continued a moment longer, each pass making you pant from the new, overwhelming sensation. “Alright,” Bucky mused, looking down at where his hand met your cunt, and he pulled it away. “Look, baby, look how wet you are.”

You glanced down and gasped quietly at the sight, then you looked at Bucky, who was grinning like a madman. “I think you’re ready for a lil’ more.”

“More–? Oh, oh, fuck-” You gasped, jolting in place at the feel of Bucky’s fingers trailing to your opening and pushing with the slightest pressure. 

“Relax, baby girl,” Bucky whispered, leaning forward to mouth at your throat. “You gotta relax for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Taking a deep breath, you willed your body to unclench, limb by limb, until you were pliant under him again. “That’s it, good girl.”

Bucky’s finger pushed in, the intrusion burning a small amount, and you hissed. “You’re alright; I promise I won’t do anymore,” he reassured, placing a kiss on your forehead again. “You’re doing so, so good for me, baby–just stay relaxed. I can feel how tense you are.”

“Bucky, I-”

“I know, relax for me–relax for daddy, alright? Breathe,” Bucky soothed, smiling down at you. At his words, you tried again, and he smiled wider. “That’s it, now, I’m gonna insert another, stop, then add just one more. That’ll do for the moment.”

“Okay,” you sighed, moving your hands to grip his broad and still clothed shoulders. “Wait, please, I want-” You tugged at the Henley, pouting.

“You want me to take it off?” Bucky questioned as he watched you curiously, and you nodded. “Okay, hang on, baby.” His fingers pulled slowly out of your pussy, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing the muscle and expanse of tattooed skin of his chest. “That better, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, running your hands over his chest, and he shivered. “Daddy looks good.”

“Doll,” Bucky groaned, stilling his movements. “Don’t. Not yet.” You giggled, and he sighed, glancing down at your pussy once more. “Ready for more, baby?”

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling and wiggling your toes. “Please.”

“Good manners,” Bucky praised, kissing you on the lips. “Here we go.”

You moaned at the feel of a second finger, and Bucky paused, the small twitches of his hand ricocheting up your spine like an earthquake. “Why- Oh my god, you’re moving-”

“I’m not, I’m not, baby,” Bucky rushed, voice strained. “It’s just you- Fuck. You’re so tight, and your pussy is squeezing me–I’m trying to keep my cool; I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t say sorry,” you said quickly, shuddering through another twitch. “Just feels- It feels good, oh-”

Bucky grinned, the two fingers now purposefully moving along your walls. 

“Bucky!” you squealed, your stomach tensing and pulling you up off the couch cushions. “Why-”

“Let it go, baby, let yourself feel,” Bucky whispered, doing it again. “I’m going to give you a third finger and then see how you do, alright?”

“Ye- Fuck!”

“Such a sensitive kitten, and fuck, does daddy love it,” Bucky rumbled, moving to loom over you again. “Taking my fingers so well, baby, squeezing them just like you will my cock.”

The words made a violent shiver grip your spine. “Oh, fuck, daddy,” you breathed.

Bucky shushed you, and his fingers twitched again. “You think you’re ready for me to move them, sweetheart?” The words were followed by a sweeping motion, and you keened. “Like that. You tell me when you’re ready.”

“Ye- Yeah,” you rushed, gripping his shoulders. “Please, daddy, I want it.”

“Okay, kitten,” Bucky said, shifting slightly. “Here we go.”

It started subtle – small movements that made your eyelids flutter, then the sweeping motions got bigger, bolder, and you let out a low moan, your chest heaving for breath. 

“Stay with me, baby. I’m looking for something,” Bucky said, biting his lip. You watched through heavily lidded eyes as his brows furrowed in concentration, the sweeping motions getting harder. "Hang on, one second. Oh baby, that's it. Hang on, give it to me. Be a good girl. Come on.”

“What- What are you looking for?” You panted, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. It felt so fucking good, and you were growing needy – wanting more. “I don’t-”

“It will be new for you, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s going to be very intense, but it won’t hurt–do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you pleaded.

“Alright,” Bucky replied, nodding. “Just breathe for me, sweetheart–you’re gonna feel something-” Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, and your eyes bulged. “Like that,” he continued, “but a lot more intense. I need you to trust me.”

“I trust you,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the new feeling. It was like being struck by lightning, and your thighs quivered. “Please, I trust you.”

“Good girl.” 

Bucky’s fingers moved again, this time with a mission, and you swore loudly. “Oh my- Fuck! Daddy! Oh my god! Please, what-”

“Easy,” Bucky breathed, smirking, his fingers keeping up a steady stream of sensation as they curled inwards – each brush making your head swim. “That’s it, just take it, baby. Take it for daddy, c’mon.”

“I don’t- Ah, fucking hell,” you babbled, grasping at Bucky’s shoulders, neck, hair – anywhere to ground yourself.

“That, baby girl, is your g-spot,” Bucky soothed, still moving his fingers. “And each time I hit it, it makes you wanna scream, doesn’t it? It makes you want more, huh?”

“Yes!” you cried, squirming. “Please! I-I, don’t-”

“Cum for me, baby, c’mon,” Bucky encouraged, voice raised above your moans. “I know you want to; give it to me.”

Pleasure blinded you, and your back bowed to the ceiling. “Bucky! Bucky–please, please! Oh my god, I think- Think-”

“Don’t think, kitten, just let go, I’ll catch you.”

A loud cry tore from your lips, and you shook under Bucky, your climax stealing your breath and ability to move or think. You could only hear the pounding of blood in your ears and the faraway sound of Bucky’s voice calling over the waves, “That’s it, good girl–good fucking girl, give it all to me. Daddy wants it all, c’mon.”

Slowly, your vision returned, and you glanced around, still panting for breath. “What the fuck,” you gasped, and Bucky laughed. 

“Now that was a fucking sight that I will never forget, sweetheart,” Bucky said smugly. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and leaned forward to kiss you full on the mouth, his tongue parting your lips greedily. “My baby girl is a greedy one. Even when cumming, you begged for more.”

“Huh?” you asked, dazed and confused. 

“You screamed for more when you were cumming–it was fucking beautiful,” Bucky praised. “And I will give you more, sweetheart, but I need you to catch your breath first. Are you alright?”

You blinked once, twice, and looked down at your body. A sheen of sweat had settled over your stomach and chest, your cunt quivered through aftershocks, pulsing every other second, and your thighs quivered. “I am great,” you said, grinning. 

“Atta girl,” Bucky laughed. “Catch your breath, and then you can have more.”

“Okay, daddy.” Bucky winked and sat back on his haunches, running his hands over your calves this time. “Fuck, that was…”

“A lot?” Bucky finished. “Yeah, you won’t last long with my cock in you, either, but fuck, you’re gonna be like heaven, sweetheart. And I can’t fucking wait to bury myself in that sweet cunt a’yours.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mumbled, eyes wide. 

“Just you wait, gonna see how filthy my mouth really gets when I fuck you, kitten,” Bucky teased.And you couldn’t wait, not now that you knew just how good his fingers were.

And I–

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"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his name.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moan filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘M too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

Bucky came from his own lineage, his own family wealth, already the boss of his family business and now the head of yours. After getting married, you moved into his family estate, far from your father and mother, but having the little words of encouragement from your mother made it a little better. 

“If he ever hurts you physically or mentally, his reputation be damned, I’ll get you out of there.”

Bucky was the opposite of what you expected, he was respectful towards you since the wedding, making sure to put your comfort first even though your marriage was purely transactional. 

Your parents' relationship was the same, but your mother grew to love your father, and the way he worshiped her made her safe. You wanted that one day with Bucky. 

Giving a small smile to all the people you passed, there were a few men murmuring to each other about your relationship, some of the women glaring at you, all the same looks you received once you were married. 

It wasn’t no secret Bucky was handsome, powerful and wealthy, the whole package to women in the room, and they were envious, a little jealous. 

Bucky’s arm was around your waist, squeezing you occasionally, reminding you that he was still looking out for you. Coming up to a group of men, Bucky slid his hand away from you, shaking the hand of everyone. 

“And you all know my wife.” He smiled, reattaching his arm. Smiling behind your champagne glass, you just nodded, glancing over each other before your eyes widened. 

Brock Rumlow. 

Brock was originally supposed to marry you, but once your father heard about what he had done to a business partner's daughter, he cut ties with him. You remembered Brock in your father’s office, the two of them yelling back and forth, hiding behind a pillar, seeing him storm out the estate. 

Looking out of the corner of his eye, Bucky noticed how you tensed you quickly, looking down at the ground, keeping that in his head, he whisked the two of you away. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was rough, turning so he could fully look at you. 

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, not wanting to ruin his night. Bucky just looked at you, but you kept up your wall, “It’s fine, I just thought I saw something.”

Bucky knew you were lying but he wasn’t going to demand you to tell him, just nodding, “You tell me anything if somethings wrong, I don’t care.”

You just nodded, agreeing with him. 

Sitting down for dinner, happy that the two of you had a table to yourselves, but seeing as everyone was looking at the two of you, mostly you, waiting for your next move, like they were waiting for you to do something wrong. 

“Don’t worry about them.” Bucky whispered, “They’re just envious of you.”

That made you calm down a little bit, finishing up your dinner, making your way towards the stage. 

Watching Bucky walk up, you smiled, clapping loudly for him. Standing on the edge of the room, you stayed out of eyesight from everyone, well almost everyone. 

Brock had been watching you since the moment you walked in with Bucky. He knew it was you that messed up the arrangement, watching as Bucky came in at the 11th hour, taking all of it from him. 

“Well, well, finally alone Mrs. Barnes.” Tensing up at his voice, you tried to get away from Brock, not being past enough, him grabbing onto your upper arm dragging you away. 

“Let me go!, stop!” You tried to yell but it seemed like Bucky’s speech was ending, and as everyone started to clap, it canceled out your plea for help.

“Shut up, you bitch!” He shoved you against the wall, cornering you. Turning your face away from him, your arm starting to bruise, tears starting to cascade down your cheeks. “You ruined my life!”

“What?” You didn’t understand what he had been saying. Scoffing, Brock brought his hand to your face, smacking you across the face. Letting out a gasp, your hand instantly came up to your cheek, cradling. 

“BUCKY!” You tried to yell, some sound coming out before Brock covered your mouth. You knew what he was capable of, your eyes wide, pleading for him to let you go. 

“You know,” He smirked, his other hand slowly creeping up your leg, “I always wanted something from Barnes, his fortune, but I think I got a better prize tonight.”

Before anything could go further, Bucky had been looking for you since he was on stage, remembering where you were standing, seeing how you were gone. Scanning the room again, he saw how Brock was also gone, assuming the worst. 

Ending his speech early, he darted off the stage, making his way towards the back of the gala, hearing you call for him.

“BUCKY!” 

Eyes wide, Bucky followed the sound of your voice, running down one of the empty hallways, seeing you at the end of it. Seeing red, Bucky stormed towards Brock, shoving him off you, slamming him into the wall. 

“You piece of shit.” He spit at him, his forearm pressing against neck, Brock gasping for air, “You think you come here and mess with my wife.”

“C’mon Barnes, she was asking for it.” He smirked. Bucky’s eyes hardened, stepping away from Brock, before swinging a punch to his face. 

You gasped, your hands covering your mouth, not knowing what to do, if you should pull Bucky off him or go call for help, both a bad idea.

Standing there helpless, you watched as Bucky punched Brock til the point he was unconscious. 

Standing up, wiping the blood from his nose, Bucky turned back to you, seeing the two bruises on you. 

“Are you bleeding?” His hands were soft on your cheek, caressing the bruise carefully, not wanting to hurt you anymore. 

“No.” You whispered, “But it hurts a lot.”

Saying nothing more, Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to the car, forgetting about the gala all together. 

“We can’t leave.” You protested. 

“Your hurt, nothing is more important.” He stated, leaving no room for you to argue. Letting you hold his hand the entire way home, your thumb slightly moved over his bruised knuckles, touching it softly like he did when he held your cheek. 

Driving in the estate, barely bringing the car into park, Bucky was already out the door, coming to your side, bringing you into the bathroom. 

Pulling out the first aid and medical equipment he had, setting you up on the bathroom counter, Bucky rummaged through it all. 

“Nothing’s gonna make it go away.” You whispered, not wanting to get him mad, “It’ll go away on its own eventually.”

You didn’t know what caused it, but watching him freeze, his head still looking down, you heard him let out a sob. 

“Bucky.” You said cautiously. Looking up at you, tears now in his eyes, Bucky couldn’t help but apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” He choked, “I’m so sorry.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky cried onto your dress, his head pressed against your chest. Not really knowing what to do, you slowly cradled his head in your arms, running your hair through his hair. 

“It’s okay.” You whispered, pulling him away from you, wiping away his tears. “I never told you about it and you were protecting me, that’s all I could ever do for you.”

It was like a lightbulb in both of your heads had clicked, looking into his eyes, before looking down at his lips before looking up at him again. Bucky seemed to have the same idea, slowly leaning in. 

The kiss was soft, your hands still on his face, slowly moving your lips in sync with his. Pulling away, you rested your forehead onto his, smiling softly. That kiss was the first one since you were married and had been better than you imagined. 

Letting out a watery laugh, Bucky stood between your legs, his hands on your waist. “I wanted to do that for so long.”

“Really.” You whispered, you always thought Bucky never really thought about a romantic relationship with you. 

“And I know that we haven’t really been a married couple, and I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, letting you take the first steps. I know that I wasn’t your first choice, but I promise you, I will always make sure you’re okay, you are my number 1 priority, I didn’t marry you for your father’s chair, I married you because I knew that I could see a family with you.”

Smiling, you caressed his cheek, sighing softly. “I love you.”

Bucky always believed that he didn’t have a heart, he didn’t have any love in his body, never imagining he’d be married let alone being married to one of the most wonderful women he had ever met. 

“I love you too, my love, with my whole being.”

“Fucking mandatory Christmas party,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and left your apartment to head to the Avengers compound for the second time that day. How is it even allowed to make an after hours social event mandatory, you wondered angrily as you got in the waiting cab. You kept adjusting your dress as the city slowly flashed by outside the cab window, second guessing everything about your outfit from the dress to the shoes to the bag to the red lipstick you’d dared yourself to put on, afraid it was too much and too basic at the same time. 

You knew it was ridiculous to feel so self conscious about yourself and your body. For all intents and purposes, you were perfectly and quite uninterestingly average, neither plus size nor skinny. You knew your plus size girlies had a way harder time being judged and disrespected for their size, and you didn’t want to be too skinny either, like malnourished. You were perfectly midsize, eating healthy and exercising for your body's sake, eating chocolate and pasta and drinking beer for your mental health’s sake. You were perfectly. average. midsize.

It was just that, the lack of appreciation and attention over the years has slowly chipped away at your confidence, and then your self-image, and then your self-esteem, to a point that it was difficult to even rouse any positive thoughts about yourself that didn’t feel half-hearted or mandatory for the girlboss-affirmation of the day. 

The one thing you had going for you, the one thing you felt unequivocally confident about, was your job. Working as one of the high level secretaries for Fury himself, you actually had quite the high seat in the house, with clearance, authority and trust from the big man on top himself. It also meant saying no to quite a lot of things and people on a daily basis, to stop people from charging into the director's office in anger, to be authoritative enough to make people listen and actually do whatever orders you delivered on the director’s behalf (and your own sometimes). The job, which you loved and had worked hard to get, was just a tad challenging to splice with a lack of self-image.

So you’ve built a ruthless, badass, girlboss, gatekeep, gaslight persona for yourself, known for being resistant to all flattery, all bribes, all flirting and all begging. Nothing got past you and everyone seemed just a little afraid of you. It was true, you’d garnered the nickname “the other she-hulk” among your peers. And though you embodied this persona like the most natural thing in the world, it was also a front really, for your honest to God lack of confidence in your everything average.

Oh yeah, except for your height, you realized as you got out of the cab at your destination and was hailed over by the other female colleagues in your department waiting outside the compound - the shoes you wore turned out to give you several inches of height on the other girls, even as they also wore stiletto-like heels. In the height department, you were just above average, which did not make you feel any better necessarily. 

Fuck. You looked like their fucking body guard, looming behind them like a giraffe as you made your way inside, them smiling and laughing, you affecting your haughty mask, the one that protected you the best when you were feeling a bit off-kilter. Better to deem everyone here below your interest before they even had a chance to assess you, right?  

The party was nice. They’d somehow managed to make the compound not feel like a concrete bunker, decorating almost every surface with some fabric or other, flashy reds and silvers and greens and blues, giant trees everywhere overloaded with decorations. Maximalism galore.

“It looks like Santa exploded in here,” you joked to your colleagues, receiving a bout of wild laughter in return. It hadn’t really been that funny, but hey, maybe you could be known as the “other deadpool” in the future if you worked hard enough on your comedy. 

As usual, the lovelier girls of your department got swarmed pretty quickly by guys. Recruits, officers, cadets, other secretaries - they all flocked to your group. You didn’t blame them, your colleagues were beautiful, witty, smiling brightly and exuding a sort of light that could only be rivaled by the sun. They were nice to everyone too, unlike you. 

You stayed and chatted for a bit. No one commented on your dress and certainly not the split at the side, and you tried not to let that get to you. This was a work event, after all, it would be inappropriate if they did come on to you or something. Your self-esteem whimpered quietly even so. 

It didn’t take long for the rest to get tipsy, and someone started blasting music somewhere, effectively switching from corporate mingling-mode to drunken tomfoolery-mode. You easily resisted getting dragged to the dancefloor, effecting a disinterested, above-it-all mask as your work friends pouted and dragged your arm in a petulant, though surprisingly endearing way. 

“I’m not debasing myself tonight, thank you very much,” you said, knowing it was harsh but only gaining a playfully scolding look before the whole gang bounced off to dance without you. 

You made your way over to the bar instead. A half-hour or so more and then you could safely leave without breaking any social codes, you thought with relief as you ordered another glass of champagne. 

Turning from the bar, glass in hand, you suddenly bumped into someone, champagne sloshing around the rim, a few drops spilling over your hand. 

“Hey, watch where-” you started, words dying in your mouth as you looked up…and up a broad chest, a thick neck and then came face to face with Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier himself. 

B-big, your brain supplemented eloquently as you stopped speaking all together. 

How was he so tall? Okay, so you knew he was tall, you’d encountered him regularly over the years and had always felt dwarfed by the tree-trunk size of the man, but you were in four inch heels, god damnit, and you still had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. They glinted as he looked down on you, and for a moment you forgot who you were supposed to be and nearly shrank in on yourself, feeling uncharacteristically small. 

“Sorry,” he simply said, giving you a once-over so quick you weren’t sure it’d happened at all, and then he leaned around you to grab a few napkins from the bar. He made quick work of taking the glass from your hand and wiping the stray drops of champagne from it, set it on the bar and then gently took your hand in his and wiped it as well. 

You could only stare in astonishment at the size of his hands, rough and calloused, but with neatly trimmed nails, engulfing yours and being so exquisitely gentle. He put the glass back in your hand and looked down at you with a pleased smile. 

You quickly amassed your indifferent mask, raising a haughty eyebrow at him, and stepped aside so he could order whatever he wanted. He’d at least apologized and cleaned up the mess he (and you together, admittedly) had caused. You supposed it was the best outcome, both for your pride and confidence. You didn’t step far from the bar, sure you would be back soon enough for another glass, and looked out on the burgeoning dance floor in front of you. 

“Why don’t you join?” a deep voice asked from the side. 

Looking over, Bucky had come up to stand at your side, looking out over the crowd as well, whiskey glass in hand. His strong profile was illuminated by the flashing lights of the dance floor, reflected in those baby blue eyes, and his hair was tucked back into a bun at the back of his head. His suit must have been tailored by sorcery or something, because it hugged him in all the right places, press neat and crisp, making him look both perfectly put together and indecently so.   

Okay, so maybe you had a little something of a crush on the guy. He was fine as hell, and always put this old school New York charm on you whenever you met. He was the only one who still tried to charm and flirt with you whenever he came to Fury’s office, and though you put on your unimpressed and uninterested mask, thoroughly shutting him down each time, you secretly appreciated those moments more than you would ever admit out loud. It felt nice that he at least treated you the same as all the other secretaries - he was the only one who still did. 

You raised your eyebrow, securing a bored look even as you wanted to ask with you?

“Not exactly my crowd,” you said instead, taking a swig at your drink. 

“No? Didn’t think you cared about things like that,” he said, smoothly challenging you. 

“Not exactly my music, then,” you said. Arrogance and low energy usually got people to leave you alone when you felt fragile. You turned to give him a fake, sarcastically apologetic smile. 

“Ah, I see. Too bad, would’ve loved to see how wide that split goes while you twirl,” he said, leaning closer to you, and in your shock the mask you’d held on so tight cracked, and you whipped to look at him. He’d noticed it?

You saw the pleased victory shining in his eyes. Cheeky bastard was trying to break you, trying to make you drop the haughty exterior, like he knew you were only putting up a front. And you’d let your mask slip and showed him he was right. And like you suspected he knew, it was the exact sort of thing you deeply, secretly craved someone to do. 

But it wouldn’t be that easy. Bucky could just be fucking with you, or making easy conversation. But he’d noticed the split in your dress, so he must’ve been looking, right? Just a little harder than everybody else. Still, it was out of the question to just drop every defense and wall you had now, in this room, just because of one comment from him. You quickly affected an unimpressed, almost fatigued mask, raising your glass to your lips. 

“Too bad, Barnes, I’ve already had my high school prom,” you said, delivering the line with just the perfect amount of arrogance and judgment. 

You felt his eyes lingering on your face for long moments as you stared into the crowd, refusing to meet his eyes and potentially let more slip. This shit was exhausting enough when people didn’t clock on to your farce. Still, a small part of you didn’t want him to stop looking, to stop showering you in this undivided attention that sizzled like carbonic bubbles on your skin. 

You immediately shut down your disappointment when he left without another word, telling yourself to be proud you didn’t beg or flirt or plead for his attention like everyone else did. You didn’t need anyone but yourself, you needed to remember that. 

The music shifted from some mainstream pop song to some very old jazz, and the sudden shift only had a second to register before Bucky appeared as from thin air, took your glass from you, downed the rest of your drink in one gulp (eyes shining with mischief as you gawked a little at him), ditched the glass on the nearby table and then promptly took you by the hands and hauled you out on the dance floor. 

“W-wait, I -” your words cut off to a little squeal as the soldier wrapped a strong arm around your waist and twirled you so your feet lifted off the ground, the skirt of your dress flying out. Your arms clung around his neck and shoulders as the world spun in a flurry of bright, flickering lights, and your feet didn’t touch the ground for ten solid seconds as Bucky turned and turned. 

When he eventually put you down, his arms didn’t let up much, keeping you firmly tucked to the hard planes of his stomach and chest with a hand that went around your back and held your waist on the other side. 

You schooled your expression down even as nerves and excitement and a fair share of actual, fucking excitement filled you from the unexpected dancing. You actually did like to dance a lot. You looked up and found Bucky’s eyes on your face, glimmering in the bright lights as he easily led you in some old timey couple’s dance that he apparently knew perfectly.

“This music more to your liking?” he asked, challenging and genuine at the same time, and you couldn’t for the life of you understand his angle. Why was he doing this? 

You knew people were watching, even as the dance floor was still full of other dancers making due with their modern dance moves to the old music. And though you did feel kinda nervous being so exposed, you couldn’t very well cut off this dance and leave - that would only make you look even more insecure than you felt.

So you soldiered through, putting on a mildly entertained, smug look and looking Bucky in the eyes. 

“It’s certainly something else,” you said, and watched as his eyes flared over with a sort of playful frustration, shaking his head a little at you, but smiling despite himself. 

“Drop the act, sweetheart,” he said then, low enough for no one else to hear, but it still made you bristle. 

“What act?” you said, making it sound nonchalant and innocent at the same time. “Just because you remember one dance from 70 years ago, I’m supposed to swoon?” you challenged, knowing the words were harsh but goddamnit, he was getting too close. 

A groan escaped him then, one you felt more than heard from the way your bodies were pressed together, and you flushed, not expecting that kind of response. 

He leaned down and murmured in your ear.

“I like it when you’re mean, but I’d like it more if you were honest,” he said, and your breath caught, the physical sensation of his hot breath on your ear distracting you to the point of stumbling a bit on your heels. His arm around your waist didn’t let you so much as twist an ankle, which made you feel even more heated. 

Before you could come up with a retort, Bucky flung you out in a twirl, making your skirt fly around you. He led you perfectly even as he almost threw you around like a ragdoll, and you had to admit you were amazed by how graceful you were even as every move and twist were orchestrated and led by Bucky. The crowd disappeared as you moved to the music, coming back to Bucky, being swung out again, your back to his front at one point, his breath hot on your neck, swinging out again and stepping past each other in swoops only connected by your hand in his. 

You met his eyes and saw the flash over with an intensity that made your skin prickle, with a hunger you could scarcely believe was meant for you, eyes raking over your body, lingering on the leg peaking out through the split in your skirt, your chest heaving in the low cut neckline of your dress, your face flushed and no doubt looking as amazed as you felt on the inside. 

The dance ended in a perfectly timed dip, Bucky holding you down and cradling your neck and the small of your back in capable arms, face so close you could feel his breath fan across your face, smelling of whiskey and spearmint. 

You smiled, couldn’t help it, you hadn’t had this much fun at a work event in years. Bucky’s eyes flitted about your face as he echoed your smile with a brilliant flash of teeth himself. Your heart thudded in your chest, and your eyes flicked down to his lips, those luscious, plump lips and oh holy fuck did you want to kiss him at that moment. A desperation you couldn’t quell seized you by your fucking guts and you positively throbbed. Your smile faltered, and you saw his fall too. Daring to look up into his eyes, you saw the same hunger reflected there, nearly engulfing you in its heat. 

Then the crowd returned, cheering, the music went back to some pop song from last year and reality dumped back in on your head so fast you almost made the mistake of scrambling out of Bucky’s hold. 

No, no, no, way too exposed, this was not how you planned this night…

You were actually proud of the way you managed to slowly extract yourself from Bucky’s arms, give a slow, bored “thank you,” and then calmly leave the room all together to escape to the ladies room. 

You had to admit, they hadn’t neglected the bathrooms in the compound, you thought as you occupied the space alone. They were kinda nice, big and spacious, marble and polished steel making the space comfortable and with an air of luxury compared to the practical, brutalist vibe of the rest of the building. 

You touched up on your lipstick, hands shaking a little from the excursion of the dancing. Okay, you needed to leave, you thought to yourself as you felt your skin still sizzling faintly wherever Bucky’s hands had touched you. Your nerves seemed newly awakened as if from a deep slumber, and it would not do to develop an even deeper crush on him. 

As if summoned, the door to the bathroom opened and Bucky stepped through, eyes finding yours in the mirror immediately. 

“I think you’re supposed to be in the next room over Barnes,” you drawled even as your heart picked up speed. 

He didn’t answer as he slowly crossed the room. 

You couldn’t help shifting in your skin as your body thrummed with an exhausting amount of nervous excitement. His gaze was level,possessing your attention like an iron grip. It was like he saw right through every mask and facade you tried to put on, right in to the very center, the very truth inside you. It lulled you and provoked you at the same time. 

“You’re in the wrong restroom, Barnes,” you said, even harsher, when he was about halfway across to you. He still didn’t answer. 

You spun to face him, anger welling higher. Who did he think he was, coming in here and stripping away the only scraps of protection you had, looking at you like he could read the thoughts as they appeared in your mind?

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he answered as you glared at him, coming to stop directly in front of you, only inches between you, and the air there sparked with energy you just couldn’t deny you were affected by. 

You scoffed, fighting against the crumbling of your exterior. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you wanted him. Couldn’t deny it, couldn’t help yourself as your muscles ached to reach for him, to press yourself against him and let him wrap his strong, safe arms around you again. To tuck yourself away into him and shut your mind off and just feel taken care of - in any way - by someone other than yourself.

A desperate thought occurred to you; maybe you could do this without losing face. If you went on the offensive, you could still hold control over the situation while still letting whatever was sizzling between you and Bucky explode, you thought a bit desperately as you held his stare, his eyes darkening as the seconds ticked by. Maybe you didn’t have to bare your soul for him in order to get a taste of what you wanted. You could just make it out to be a hookup at a party, something carnal but detached. Give your body to him while still guarding your mind and soul. 

Not giving yourself a moment more to stall, you surged forward, grabbed his neck and kissed him. He wasn’t as surprised as you’d liked by your sudden call to action. In fact, he seemed to come unleashed the moment your lips met his, a grunt sounding in his throat as he instantly wrapped one arm around your waist, his other going into your hair to keep your head firmly put where he wanted it. 

Yes

The kiss was filthy, hot breaths and open mouths and tongue on tongue almost immediately, like a dam of pent up lust had just erupted at that first touch for the both of you. He pushed you back so the marble counter dug into your ass, and plastered himself against you, groaning as your hands moved to map out his back. 

You fumbled to reach for the lapels on his jacket and he let up his hold just long enough for you to wrench his suit jacket off him before both pair of hands went on frantically groping and gripping and touching, and you couldn’t seem to draw breath into your aching lungs for all the burning desire that flooded your body. 

Bucky broke out of your heady kiss, gasping as he leaned his forehead to yours, hands gripping your hip and the back of your neck so tight it almost pinched you, and you relished the feeling. 

“Fuck,” he groaned between pants, and you liked the sound of that very much. 

You gave him a sultry and cocky “mhm” as you kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip. When you opened your eyes again, he was still looking at you, his stare so fucking intense. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and that…was stepping into a territory you were not too keen on. You couldn’t have sentimentality at that moment. You couldn’t control your tiny wince either, trying to move on with another kiss, your hands dragging down the hard planes of his chest to entice him to move along. 

Bucky didn’t grant you that mercy. He apparently saw your wince as well as he saw the split in your skirt, and scrutinized you with a piercing stare as he reiterated between kisses. 

“So gorgeous,” he murmured and you tried your damndest to ignore it, kissing him more intently, hands moving a bit desperately to his belt, but an uncomfortable laughter escaped you either way. 

Bucky stopped your hands, grabbing them and putting them on the counter at your side before cradling your face firmly in his hands. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is he doing, you lamented as you looked everywhere but his eyes. 

“I mean it, you’re a gorgeous woman,” he said and you whined softly, not at all capable of hearing that. Whether out of a misguided sense of pity or because he wanted to get in your panties, you didn’t want him to tell you that shit just to placate you. You were already dying to get fucked, false flattery was of no need. You were practically soaking your panties already just from his kisses and his hands, one warm and one slightly colder, moving over your body like he couldn’t get to all of it quick enough.

“You don’t have to-” you started exasperated, squirming to get away from the intimacy of his proximity, the way he looked at you and the way he was cradling your face. 

“You see, this is what I mean. I think you’re hiding, doll. You don’t realise how fucking amazing you are, and you hide it behind a bitchy face and even bitchier words,” he said.

Words failed you then. The fucking audacity of this man to call you out like that. You were not prepared to be laid out like that, and you didn’t know whether to fight back with teeth and claws or to flee in your humiliation. 

Bucky must have seen your warring thoughts on your face, the simmering rage at being cornered and confronted like this, like an animal frantic with self preservation. 

“You don’t believe me?” he asked, and you could see a fierce competitive glint light on fire in his eyes, pouncing on the challenge.

In a flash, he’d turned you around and you met your own expression in the mirror above the sink. Bucky stepped flush against you again, and nestled the hard bulge in his pants right against your ass. You squirmed and whined a little. You wanted that inside you already. But Bucky held you tightly pinned between himself and the counter, his metal hand coming around to splay on your stomach, shining metal against the black silk fabric, effectively giving you no room to move. His hand was so huge, it covered nearly the whole area between your belly button and the underside of your heaving breasts. He propped his chin on your shoulder and captured your eyes through the reflection in the mirror. 

“You’re exquisite, doll” he whispered, his other hand landing lightly on your waist. This time you saw your own wince of disbelief in the mirror, instantly embarrassed at how revealing you were. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, both from his words and the way his eyes were just eating your body up in the mirror. 

“I’m nothing special,” you heard yourself murmur. 

“Oh, on the contrary, doll, you’re as rare as they come,” Bucky said, flesh hand moving to grab your hips appreciatively. “Swinging these hips all around the compound, your walk so sweet compared to that barking mouth you’ve got on ya,” he said, drawled a bit, his Brooklyn accent coming forth, kneading your hips and pulling you back to grind your ass on his hard bulge. 

Your breath hitched on a gasp, and your heart fluttered in your chest. He’d been watching the way you walked? And he liked it?

His hands came up to cup one of your heaving breasts. 

“Such elegant lines, perfect, round tits,” he murmured into the skin below your ears, and you trembled in his arms as his fingers teased a nipple through the thin fabric of your dress. 

“A neck that’s just begging to be sucked on and marked,” he continued before his lips sealed itself to that sensitive spot right below the hinge of your jaw and you gasped raggedly as sparks flew through your body. 

You were positively high on the novelty of his praise, but you just couldn’t quite believe it. 

“I’ve…a-always just thought I was so average,” you admitted, voice timid, nothing short of a whisper, and you berated yourself for revealing your insecurity so openly, even as Bucky’s lips let go of your skin and he nuzzled the hair behind your ear. 

“God, no,” he sighed, hand coming down to your hip again, guiding you to grind back on his bulge again, and fuck, he was hard, “I don’t get how you could even think that,” he said, and the genuine astonishment in his voice had to be real, or else he was a brilliant fucking actor. 

Your hips had started moving on their own now, steadily grinding between his metal hand on your stomach and the hard cock at your ass, sizzling sparks of heat traveling your body from the friction. You could feel Bucky nodding into the crook of your neck, encouraging and praising at the same time. 

“But I’m…kinda tall…surely y-you’d want someone shorter, m-more petite?” you heard yourself whisper, and you just had to ask him right out, to give voice to those incessant, nagging insecurities. 

He actually laughed then, a breathy chuckle against the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Are you kidding? You nearly gave me a heart attack in these heels tonight, baby,” he said easily, calm and honest and straightforward and it was like he wasn't even trying to convince you of anything, he was just speaking honestly. “And when you danced with me? How sexy and smooth and fucking alive you were as you let me spin you? Couldn’t take my fucking eyes of you, fuck, I haven’t been this hard in ages. Plus, you’re just perfect for me to fuck like this. Can’t you feel how perfectly your ass fits against my cock when you grind like that, huh? Can’t have that with a shorter girl, you were made for me, darling,” he said, breath growing puffy and you were almost shaking, both from his words and the blazing fucking heat they stoked.

A needy, whimpering sort of whine escaped you at that. It was perfect, your height to his. Perfect for you to nudge your ass against his pelvis and feel his hot lips and a sliver of tongue on the heated skin of your neck at the same time. 

“Do you believe me, now, sweetheart? Or do you need me to fuck it into you?” he asked then, a teasing lilt to his voice even as it dropped a fucking octave, rumbling over you skin, making you ache. 

You turned your head to graze your lips against his, recognising when he was posing a challenge by now, when his competitive side came out to play. You waited just a few seconds, letting your mingling, ragged breaths fill the silence, before answering, looking him straight in his eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” you whispered against his mouth. 

His reaction was almost instant. His metal hand came up to cradle your throat, pinning you close to him as his flesh hand had the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips in a split second. His hand was between your legs in the next second, brazen and possessive and you fucking loved it, knees nearly buckling in your stilettos as his warm flesh palm cupped you there. A filthy groan sounded in your ear. 

“Fucking perfect pussy already soaked for me, huh?” he downright growled, fingers moving up and down your clothed slit, feeling just how wet you were through the flimsy fabric of your lace panties. “This pussy aching, huh? Hasn’t been fucked right in ages, I reckon? Some bastard left you feeling like less than just perfect?” he babbled as he began rubbing tight circles on your clit, making you keen at both his words and ministrations, mind floating up to the fucking skies on a cloud of endorphins and arousal. “You give me their names, honey, and I’ll make sure they never bother you again,” he said, dark intentions in an even darker, gruffer voice and you couldn’t stand still for the way you needed him. 

“Fuuuck, please, Bucky,” you whined, grinding your pussy down on his hand, soaking his fingers. 

“That’s right, baby, you take what you deserve, you take what this perfect body deserves,” he encouraged. 

“I need…I need,” you breathed, eyes closing as you rode the sensation of being touched like this, so expertly, too much one second and not enough the next. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me,” he groaned into the skin of your neck. 

“I need…your…please, your cock,” you whimpered. 

His hands pulled back and gave your pussy a playful little slap, making you jolt and yelp in his arms, and the slight sting felt so fucking good. 

“That’s right,” he said, giving you a few precious seconds to collect your frayed, jumbled, melting mind as he frantically undid his belt and fly, pulling his cock out and pulling your soiled panties to the side to notch his cock at your weeping hole. 

He didn’t give you anymore time to beg before he pushed his hips forward and you both gasped raggedly as his cock slid in, perfectly to the hilt, your pussy sucking him in like it had a mind of its own. His whole frame, massive and rugged as it was, shuddered as he stood there with his cock buried inside you, and you opened your eyes to watch in astonished fascination through the reflection in the mirror as he took a moment to get a hold of himself. One hand flexed its grip around your throat, the other on your hip, grip so tight and you hoped it would leave bruises. 

He didn’t wait long until he started thrusting, pulling out almost completely before thrusting in again, forgoing any buildup and going straight to the main fucking course and you were so ridiculously relieved he wasn’t teasing you anymore. 

His hands let go of you and you fell forward, draping yourself over the counter so you could just feel the way his cock, thick and ridged and so fucking hard, dragged against your walls, yielding nothing as he speared you. 

“Need to see you,” Bucky breathed between pants as he kept fucking you. 

You felt the bodice of your dress loosen and realized he had undone the zipper at the back of your dress, peeling it off your arms and then hauling you the meat of your shoulder to straighten against him again, completely naked from the waist up. 

His hands were on your exposed skin immediately, mapping out your ribcage, squeezing the pouch beneath your belly button and coming up to knead your breasts, pulling on your nipples. He was like a man starved, all the while his cock was steadily pumping into you, pushing you higher and higher, the sounds from where you were joined filtering in through your haze of lust and pleasure like a sinful symphony. 

You opened your eyes to find his in your reflection, pools of incendiary desire following every minute twitch of your face. Your eyes flicked over your own face and saw the crimson flush, the sweat on your brow, hair ruffled, the scrunched up expression and heavy-lidded, drugged eyes. You looked a downright, embarrassing mess, your deepest pleasure so plainly written on your face, exposing you to the point of pain and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to lean back to hide in the crook of his neck. 

Bucky did not let you. 

“Oh no, no, no, don’t hide from me now, sugar,” he said, one hand coming up to pull your face forward, “look at me,” he ordered and you opened your eyes to his again. 

“See how exquisite you are?” he asked, hips slapping against your ass. “See how beautiful you look, taking my cock?” he asked, watching you watch him in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he ordered, and you whimpered as you met your own gaze in the mirror again. 

There was an almost lascivious tilt to his voice as he kissed your neck sloppily and murmured. 

“Tell her she looks beautiful,” he said. 

You thrashed as much as you could in your pinned position, the counter digging into your hips, high heeled shoes barely touching the floor. 

“Bucky,” you whined petulantly. There was no way. 

“Say it, darling,” he warned before his hips slowed down to an almost complete stop, and that only made you thrash harder. “Oh, you want to come baby? Then look at yourself in the mirror and say ‘I’m beautiful,” he said, and you gawked at him in disbelief, humiliation and mortification burning hot on your cheeks. 

The hand not holding your face towards the mirror kept exploring your flesh as he waited, pinching and grabbing everywhere like he just couldn’t stop. You looked at yourself in the mirror, took in the simmering fire in your eyes, your lips with its bright red lipstick smeared all over. 

“Come on, darling, don’t you want to come? Won’t you let me make you come?” Bucky asked, spreading kisses down your neck as his eyes burned into your face through the mirror. 

You fought it for as long as you could, didn’t want to play these games, didn’t want to see your own vulnerability on your face as you said something you should believe but didn’t quite. 

Bucky grinded his hips all the way inside you and then stilled completely and your need won. 

“I’m beautiful,” you whispered, breath hitching as you saw the disbelief, the resistance in your own eyes, hating yourself both for saying it and not believing it. 

Bucky groaned in a resolutely pleased manner and started moving his hips again, languidly stroking in and out of your sopping cunt. 

“Again,” came his growled order from behind. 

Your resilience was weaker this time, with the tip of his cock reaching so deep, adding rhythmic pressure to that elusive spot in the deepest nook of your body that had your knees going wobbly. 

“I’m beautiful,” you said again, this time giving a low, timid voice to the words. 

Bucky groaned behind you, hands gripping you tighter as his hips picked up speed. 

“That’s right. Say ‘I’m gorgeous’.”

“I-I’m gorgeous.”

“Say ‘I deserve this’”

“I d-d - oh fuck - I deserve this - ah -”

“Say ‘I’m making Bucky Barnes crazy on a daily basis and I don’t even care enough to acknowledge it,” Bucky husked behind you. 

That made you actually giggle, though it came out more like a stuttering whine.

“I-I didn’t know,” you moaned, breaking your own eye contact in the mirror to look at his face. You honestly didn’t. Sure, you’d established a playful banter over the years, frequently sparking conversation whenever he was at your desk for something concerning Fury or you met in the halls or right after department meetings. But you’d honestly never considered you, just being you, could be driving a man like him crazy. 

Eyes dark as the ocean burned into yours from where his face was propped on your shoulder, mouth nibbling on the side of your neck and your earlobe as his hips kept up a punishing pace. It was becoming hard to string together coherent thoughts, your mind going hazy from the steady punch of his cock. 

He smiled against your skin, nipping it so hard you squealed a little, head swimming from the mix of pain and pleasure. 

“You’re killing me here, doll,” Bucky murmured playfully against your skin, hands moving again, skimming over your skin and kneading your flesh in such an appreciative way it had you blushing, even as you were steadily pounded by his cock, halfnaked in the bathroom at your workplace during a fucking Christmas party. 

It was all a haze, the way you were hurtling towards the precipice of your orgasm, his cock in your pussy, his hot breath on your neck, his hands roaming your body like a starved beast. The smell of his rich, musky cedar cologne and the hint of fresh, male sweat. And his eyes, devouring everything his hands didn’t touch. 

“I-I’m gonna…fuck, Bucky -” you stammered. You were so close. 

“I got you,” Bucky answered breathlessly, his flesh hand moving down between your legs to stroke your clit in fast, tight circles. 

You keened, vision blurring as your muscles seized, teetering on the edge. You faintly registered your own expression in the mirror in front of you, mouth falling open, eyebrows scrunching and a crimson flush high on your cheeks. 

You heard Bucky groaning behind you and trembled at the sound. 

“Fuck, there you go, baby, fuck you’re squeezing me so fucking - tight, god damn -”

And then Bucky was wrenching your face to the side and kissing you. And maybe it was the way his hips stuttered as you moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was the possessiveness with which he pushed his tongue into yours. Maybe it was the way his metal hand gripped you tighter as you started shaking, or maybe it was the sheer desperation in his kiss as he herded you over the edge that truly made you feel beautiful in that moment. Beautiful and blissed out as you spasmed on his cock, hearing his choked grunt as you pulled his orgasm right out of him.

You felt him throb in turn with you, his cum pooling hot deep inside you, the both of you nearly falling off your damn feet as you came together, the kiss disintegrating to a mere sloppy tangle of breaths and tongues.  

As you slowly came down from your high, your mind started whirring. Halfway preparing for Bucky to pull out and leave swiftly. To maybe give you a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, to push the skirt of your dress down over your ass and then make his exit from this very public bathroom. It wasn’t that you thought Bucky was some kind of sleaze, but it would be okay if he left it at that. You were a big girl, you knew people got carried away during a rowdy fuck, and if he left it at this, you would be fine. You told yourself as much, at least…

But Bucky didn’t leave. He didn’t pull out right away, either. Once you could both catch your breath, he reiterated his kiss, slow and thorough and breathtaking all anew. His metal hand firmly secured your face to meet his and his flesh hand gave your clit a few more gentle swirls, and you could feel his smile, fascinated and playful against your mouth as you jolted at the sensation. Whimpering a little at the overstimulation but keeping yourself completely still for it anyway, you were astonished by how sensitive you were and how fucking good it felt to have Bucky teasingly play with you as you basked in the afterglow. 

You squeezed around his cock still lodged inside you, and he gave a little grunt in response. 

“Careful, sugar, or I might get hard again,” he murmured against our lips, rolling his hips gently into your ass. 

“Is…is that supposed to deter me?” you asked, your snarky tone just a little undermined by the way you gasped. 

He groaned at that, low and pleased. 

“I suppose it should…at least until I can get you out of this fucking bathroom and into a bed,” he murmured, and a surge of adrenaline went through you. He wanted to do this again?

A small thought in the back of your mind wondered how it was possible that no one had come in and interrupted you by now, but it was quickly pushed away as Bucky gently pulled himself out of you. You tried to conceal the shiver of arousal that went through you as you felt his cum leak out of you and down the inside of your thighs. 

“Stay like that,” he whispered, removing himself and the fucking furnace of warmth that had been plastered to your back. The cold air hitting your back made you realize just how naked and exposed you were, your dress a scrunched up tangle low on your waist. 

You didn’t have time to become self-conscious though, before Bucky was back, kneeling behind you. Peaking over your shoulder, you were just in time to see him wipe a damp hand towel up your thigh and gently across the puffy, sensitive mess between your legs. You flushed for an entirely new reason now. It was just so…intimate, and sweet and generous and you struggled to handle the care and tenderness with which Bucky thoroughly cleaned both his mess and yours. 

You watched him quietly as he cleaned you up, and then as he seemingly couldn’t help himself from bending forward and kissing your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe a small lick to your still sensitive clit. You yelped, hips bucking away. 

He shushed you gently and kissed your ass cheek soothingly, fitting the admittedly soggy fabric of your panties back over your pussy before getting on his feet again. With gentle hands, he turned you around, and your eyes went wide as you looked down to see his cock still hanging out of his fly, already back to full hardness. 

Bucky followed your shocked expression down and chuckled. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, hands still cradling your shoulders, moving up to knead the muscle between your shoulders and neck, and you hummed in pleasure, eyes falling close. 

“Does that always happen?” you asked, feeling the soreness in the muscles ease up under Bucky’s dexterous fingers. 

“No,” he answered simply, and you could tell by his tone that it meant something. That it lent itself to everything he’d said about you and the supposed attractiveness you held to him. You kept your eyes closed and bit your lips to keep from smiling too broadly at that. 

Feeling emboldened, you reached for him, hands finding his clothed chest and stroking down until you reached his cock, wrapping a tentative fist around its stiff heat. 

You heard Bucky suck in a breath, and then his hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight as he thrust his hips lightly a few times, pumping his cock gently through your fist. You were ready to go again by the time he gently pried your hand away and groaned like he was being gently tortured. 

You couldn’t help your pout, opening your eyes to find him gazing at your face. 

“I want to take care of you, too,” you complained, and the gentle whine of your tone sounded so small and decidedly submissive, certainly not fitting the badass work persona you’d built. It just suddenly felt so safe to be a bit whiny with him. 

Bucky only stepped closer and cradled your face in his hands. 

“I’ll let you take care of me later, sweet thing, to your heart’s content. For now, tuck me back in and we can get outta here,” he drawled, Brooklyn accent soothing his tone and lulling you to comply, pacified by his promise to let you take care of him soon. 

You did as he said, tucking his hard cock back into his pants and doing up his fly and belt as he watched your face intently, no doubt seeing the way your eyes grew hazy, your breath labored and your face flushing all anew at the way he held you while you handled him. You let your hands linger over his bulge when you were done, dying to take him out again and just do whatever he wanted to make him feel good. 

Soon, you told yourself, soon. 

All throughout the day, every cocksure single guy—and far too many not-so-single guys—had taken the sign as an invitation to flirt with you and your friend. That had been fine because your friend had soaked up the attention, but then she’d had to leave, abandoning you to the sea of smarmy guys hell-bent on getting the lemonade stand girl’s number. Every single one of them thought they were so clever with their lemon puns or their various uses of “Pucker up!” in a sentence, and you’d had to force yourself not to make a sour face as you shot them all down. If that stupid sign wasn’t nailed to the wooden structure of your stall, you would’ve taken it down hours ago.

Instead, you’d had to put up with the steady stream of guys—from teenagers far too young for you to men who looked like they could be your grandfather—shooting their shot with the lemonade stand girl, ignoring the fact that you didn’t seem the least bit interested in any of them. It was enough to give you a blistering headache and so when the latest guy stepped up to your stall, trying his hand with his tired pickup line, your anger bubbled over. Throwing down your knife, you whirled around, turning to the front counter and preparing to give him a piece of your mind. 

But then your gaze caught on brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the summer sun, looking like the calm surface of the most refreshing lake. The sounds of the summer festival—screaming children, haggling parents and, more distantly, the bells and whistles of carnival games and rides—quieted around you, turning into a dull roar as you took in the man standing at your stall. 

He was tall and broad-shouldered, with brown hair swept back from an excruciatingly handsome face. Stubble dusted along the sharp edge of his jaw, framing his perfectly soft mouth. You couldn’t help but let your eyes trace the exact curve of his lips, the dip of his cupid’s bow and the tilt at the corners, showing off a hint of a smirk. 

While you stood staring at the man, you noticed his expression shifting. The arrogant smirk smoothed into something softer and his eyes focused on you in a way that felt attentive, like he was really taking you in, not just seeing you as the lemonade stand girl. He scrutinized you, and you despaired at the realization he was seeing you after so many hours of working the stall. 

At the very least, your hair was a mess, pulled back from your face haphazardly, and you had no doubt you were shiny with a sheen of sweat. Not to mention, the brown burlap apron you wore wasn’t exactly cute, especially since it hid the majority of your outfit—a pair of shorts and a tank top you’d normally be confident in. Altogether, you didn’t feel like you were looking your best. Meanwhile, the man looked like he’d just stepped out of a professional photoshoot, which only gave you more reason to resent him. 

Wiping your face self-consciously, the grating feeling of your fingers against your skin let you know you only managed to smudge sugar across your cheeks. Then, you stepped up to the counter. “Can I help you?” you muttered, the words coming out harsher than you’d intended.

“Oh, h-hey, I’m Bucky,” the man said, ducking a little to avoid the glare of the sun. His brows pulled together in a cute, flustered expression, chipping away at your defensive anger. He leaned in so he could see you better and you got a whiff of his cologne, something earthy and spicy. It annoyed you how much you liked it. 

Bucky looked at you expectantly and although he seemed to have shed the insincere pretense he’d used to greet you, you wondered if he was just switching tactics. Instead of giving your name, you blinked at him warily, waiting for the cheesy pickup lines or the cajoling come-ons.

A nervous, lopsided smile spread across Bucky’s face that was more charming than it had any right to be. “If you won’t give me your name, I’ll have to keep calling you buttercup,” he said, his words a friendly threat.

It really showed how broken down you’d been by the obnoxious flirting all day because, even as tiny little butterflies took flight in your stomach at the thought of this handsome man calling you buttercup, your first reaction was to scowl. “Do you want lemonade or not?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your apron. You didn’t know what this guy’s game was, but you weren’t going to trust it. Even if you kind of wanted to.

“Yeah, I’ll have some—and some for my friends,” Bucky said, turning to gesture into the crowd.

You saw what was about to happen, but you were too tired from the day to react quick enough to stop it. Because Bucky had been leaned into your stall, when he turned to point out his friends, his arm knocked over your only remaining pitcher of lemonade. It tipped over the front of the counter, falling to the ground at Bucky’s feet with a clatter on the concrete.

“Oh shit!” Bucky yelped, jumping out of the splash zone before looking up at you with a chagrined expression. “I’m so sorry, buttercup.”

Your headache pounded in your temples, and you shook your head, brushing away his apology. With a resigned sigh, you walked around the counter, stooping down and starting to clean up the slices of lemon that had been in the pitcher with the lemonade. Thankfully, the pitcher was safe, since you’d learned a long time ago not to use actual glass. It made sense to only use plastic pitchers when you knew the festival would be full of boisterous kids—and apparently clumsy, attractive men. 

“Let me help,” Bucky muttered. He crouched down beside you, gathering up the pitcher and picking up lemon slices. 

Looking up in surprise that he was actually sticking around to clean up his mess, you caught his eye. He was so much closer than you expected, close enough you could smell his cologne again and it warmed something inside you. You wanted to lean into him, but held yourself back. “Thanks,” you said grudgingly. 

“You smell like sugar…and lemons,” Bucky said dreamily, his eyes a little unfocused before his gaze sharpened back in on you. A light pink tinted his cheeks and you wondered if he’d gotten too much sun or if, for some reason, he was blushing. 

“Well, I’ve spent the whole day making lemonade,” you pointed out awkwardly, trying for a friendlier tone. You figured if he was going to abandon the pickup lines and be a decent human being, you could try to be nice. Thankfully, he wasn’t making you regret that decision. Yet.

A wry grin curved Bucky’s mouth and he ducked his head. “Right, of course.” He stood, one hand holding your pitcher and the other cupping a bunch of lemon slices. You straightened up and directed him to the garbage in your stall, where you both dumped the wreckage of Bucky’s clumsiness. 

It felt a little too intimate to have Bucky behind the counter, so you grabbed the pitcher from his hand and swept past him. You didn’t want to ask him to leave—especially since you didn’t know how to without being rude—so you hoped he’d take the hint of you not striking up conversation as an indication to leave. You put the pitcher in your portable sink and briskly washed your hands. He’d knocked over the last of the lemonade you’d had, so you went back to work on a new batch before the next round of customers arrived.

“Is it just you here?” Bucky asked, leaning against your work station, watching your hands as you picked up your knife and set about chopping lemons. He seemed genuinely interested and since he didn’t seem to mind talking to you while you worked, you supposed you could indulge him.  

“Yeah,” you said. After a pause, you realized a conversation would mean you’d have to say more, so you went on. “My friend was helping earlier through the noon rush, but she had to go.”

“Do you want a hand now?” Bucky asked. 

You were surprised enough by his question that you paused what you were doing, looking at the man to see if he was being serious. His expression was open and you realized he was actually offering to help. It surprised you how much you wanted to accept Bucky’s help, but you weren’t sure it was a good idea.

“Do you really think I should trust you after you spilled a whole pitcher of lemonade?” you asked, quirking your eyebrow as you turned to him, a hand on your hip. The corner of your mouth flickered with a barely restrained smile, waiting to see what he had to say for himself. You didn’t know where the urge to smile came from, but you tamped it down.

“Hey now,” Bucky started, looking affronted. “I make a mean lemonade.” It startled you when a laugh bubbled up your throat and burst from your mouth. Bucky looked triumphant for a moment, before his face turned serious again. “Just give me a chance,” he said, his expression was pleading. He pressed his hands together in front of his chest.

You could feel yourself wavering and when he ducked his head and looked up at you, giving you the full effect of his puppy dog eyes, you broke. “Fine,” you muttered, going back to chopping your lemons. “There’s an apron under the counter.”

“OK,” Bucky said, clapping his hands and looking around at the ingredients you had laid out. There was, of course, lemons in a basket, a gigantic mason jar of sugar, jugs of water and coolers full of ice. “Let me grab something and I’ll be right back.” 

He seemed to be waiting for your permission, so you waved him off, telling yourself you didn’t really care if he came back. But the clumsy man was true to his word, and he returned with a small bundle of something. You tried not to look interested, but you watched out of the corner of your eye as he tied on his apron and washed his hands, then set to work on his own lemonade. 

As Bucky chopped lemons and muddled some of them with the herb he’d gotten, you realized from the smell that wafted from his work it was mint. He was making mint lemonade and you couldn’t help but feel a little impressed. You’d always wanted to experiment with other flavors of lemonade, but since it was often just you working the lemonade stall, you figured it was more manageable to stick to the basics. Your curiosity built as you worked side by side in silence, more than half of your attention on what Bucky was doing. It was a good thing the process of making lemonade was drilled into your bones through muscle memory, or you would’ve been in trouble.

You finished your batch of lemonade first and set it back on the front counter, replacing the one Bucky had knocked over, then leaned against the work station to watch him. The clumsiness you’d seen in him during your earlier interaction was gone, as was the smarminess. All that was left was a quiet confidence you realized you found attractive. For the first time all day, you found yourself wanting to make conversation with a customer. 

Before you could think of something to say, though, Bucky was grabbing one of the plastic cups you served your lemonade in and he poured you some of his batch, handing it to you with a flourish and setting the pitcher on the counter with a loud thunk. “A fresh pitcher of lemonade—mint lemonade,” he said, genuine pride in his tone. 

Hiding a smile behind your cup, you took a sip. The flavor of the lemon and mint burst on your tongue, the sugar of the drink cutting through the tartness of the fruit and the mint leaving you feeling refreshed. Your smile bloomed into a full-blown grin as you looked up at Bucky, ready to tell him he’d done a good job, but he already looked stunned. 

Bucky’s face was slack as he stared at your smile for a long enough beat that you grew a little self-conscious, squirming under his intense gaze. He seemed to snap out of it, his expression shifting back into one of attentive interest. “What do you think?” he asked eagerly. 

“It’s really good,” you said, still smiling a little, though you felt a little shy all of a sudden. 

“Do I make the cut, buttercup?” Bucky murmured and you realized he’d stepped closer. Lemon and mint mixed with his spicy cologne and you wanted to bury your face in his neck and breathe him in. You didn’t know where the urge came from, but you didn’t give in to it. Instead you looked up, catching his eye and finding him looking at you with heat in his gaze. 

“S-sure,” you said, stumbling over the word. Your lips tingled with the desire to kiss Bucky and they felt clumsy doing anything else, but you forced the words past your tongue. “You’re better than I expected.” You winced a little when you heard what you’d said, realizing it sounded like you were complimenting more than his lemonade-making skills 

Before you could correct yourself, Bucky asked, “So I can stay and help out then?” A happy grin spread across his face as he waited for your answer, hope in his eyes.

His question knocked some sense loose and you stepped back, shaking your head. “You don’t have to,” you started to say, but he cut you off.

“I want to.” He looked so earnest, it shattered your defenses. You didn’t have any good reason for him not to help you, especially since he was already so good at making lemonade. Still, you weren’t getting your hopes up that he’d stay for very long.

“I’ll have to pay you,” you said grudgingly, but it didn’t have the discouraging effect you were hoping for. You’d hoped he might interpret the statement as him inconveniencing you, but instead, Bucky looked more hopeful.

“I’ll take whatever you give me, buttercup,” he said, reaching for your hands and squeezing them gently. “Just say I can stay and help.”

“OK,” you said, shrugging like you didn’t care one way or the other. But, in reality, it was a relief to have some help. The festival had been busier than expected, and ever since your friend had left, you’d barely been able to keep up with making the pitchers of lemonade you needed to serve all your customers—not to mention dodging the attention-seeking flirting of every jerk that walked past your stall and saw the “Pucker up!” sign.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw three men approaching and you stepped back, ready to let Bucky handle them. You figured there was no time like the present for him to get a crash course in serving lemonade. But, to your surprise, they seemed to already know your newest helper.

“Barnes, we sent you over here to get drinks from the pretty lemonade stand girl, not get conscripted to work for her,” said the Black man in the group, his face screwed up in an angry, annoyed look. It was similar to how you must’ve first looked at Bucky, and that realization almost made you laugh, but you bit it back. 

“Ignore him,” Bucky said to you, rolling his eyes at his friend. He introduced you to his friends—the man who had spoken was Sam Wilson, the tall blonde was Steve Rogers and the third was Joaquín Torres. When Bucky was done, he looked at you expectantly and you finally gave him your name, letting him introduce you to his friends. Bucky turned your name over on his tongue, seeming to like the way it sounded. If you were honest with yourself, you liked the way it sounded in his voice, too.

“So what can I get for you guys?” Bucky asked once introductions were done, addressing his friends. “We’ve got lemonade and mint lemonade.”

While Sam and Joaquín were giving Bucky a hard time over what exact ingredients were used to make the lemonade—“Water, sugar and lemons,” he answered exasperatedly—Steve caught your eye and leaned in. He darted his eyes to your “Pucker up!” sign and back to you before speaking. “Please tell me Buck didn’t use a pucker up pun on you,” Steve muttered, keeping his voice down so the others didn’t hear. 

You pressed your lips into a flat line and just stared at Bucky’s friend without responding, letting him read the answer on your solemn face. Steve sighed, running his hand through his short blond hair. 

“Don’t hold it against him,” Steve said, his tone pleading while his expression remained open and honest. “He’s a good guy, he can just be an idiot sometimes.”

Glancing at Bucky, who was arguing with his friends—it sounded like they were trying to haggle for the lemonade and Bucky was increasing the price every time they tried to go lower—you realized you believed Steve. Bucky wasn’t as much of a jerk as you’d first thought. It surprised you a little, but you actually liked him and you hoped he stuck around your stall for the rest of the afternoon, though since his friends had shown up, you weren’t sure he would.

“Have you gotten a lot of pickup lines because of the sign?” Steve asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

Before you could stop yourself, you grimaced. “Too fucking many,” you muttered, casting a glare out at the crowd of the festival, hoping to deter any prospective jerks. No one looked your way, and you couldn’t help but be thankful for Bucky’s friends, who were all big and broad, taking up most of the front of your stall and hiding the “Pucker up!” sign.

Steve made a sympathetic noise, drawing your attention back to him. “Well, now that Bucky’s here, he’ll scare ‘em off,” he offered.

You didn’t want to admit how much you liked the idea. You were a strong, independent business owner, you could run your own stall and deal with customers. But, if you were honest, you were tired, and you wouldn’t mind if Bucky could help you avoid all the unwanted attention you’d been getting. Still, you kept your face impassive as you responded to Steve. “I figured you guys would want him to go hang out with you,” you said, trying to tamp down the hope that Bucky might stick around longer. 

Shaking his head, Steve glanced at his friend behind the counter. “Nah, we just wanted to see what was taking so long,” Steve explained. He turned back to you, his eyes sparkling—reminding you of the calm blue of Bucky’s eyes. “I don’t think he’d let us drag him away from you.” 

Before you could ask Steve what he meant by that, Bucky edged in beside you and gave the blond a hard look. “Anything for you, Stevie?” he asked pointedly. “Or are you just gonna flirt with my girl?”

Your heart thumped and butterflies suddenly took flight in your stomach at the possessiveness in Bucky’s tone when he called you his girl. You were so stunned by your body’s reaction to it, in fact, that you didn’t protest, the words dying in your throat as you looked up at Bucky, your eyes trailing over his profile while he stared at his friend. 

Bucky’s jaw was gritted and you had the insane impulse to press a kiss to it in an effort to soothe the tension away. But you just stayed frozen in place, staring at the man you’d only just met and wondering when you’d started liking him so much. Or, for that matter, when he’d decided you were his girl.

Meanwhile, Steve scoffed. “You know I can’t flirt for my life, Buck,” Steve said, rolling his eyes and rocking back on his heels. “Let me get a regular lemonade.”

As Bucky turned to grab a cup for Steve, he looked at you. “Can you give Sam and Joaquín their change, buttercup?” he asked, his hands moving swiftly and assuredly as he filled the cup with ice and started pouring the lemonade. “I figured you wouldn’t want me going into your cashbox.” 

Bucky’s blue eyes were bright in the dimness of your stall and you were captivated for a moment, watching the tall, handsome man pour lemonade in a burlap apron that matched your own. In that instant, you could picture your future so easily. 

You’d laugh together as you ran the lemonade stall, Bucky occasionally knocking things over, but you’d learn to anticipate his clumsiness and would save the pitchers or whatever else he’d bumped into. Bucky would insist on branching out with new flavors of lemonade and he’d experiment with other fruits and herbs, until you had all kinds of drinks on the menu. Bucky would join you in the lemonade stall on the weekends, helping you pack up, then going home together and curling up on the couch, your bodies entwined.

That potential future unfurled in your mind’s eye and you let yourself indulge in it. It seemed almost too good to be true. Shaking yourself free of your thoughts, you reminded yourself that you weren’t sure how long Bucky was planning on sticking around at the stall, let alone if he had any interest in you beyond that. “Right, yeah,” you muttered, dodging around Bucky to get to your cashbox beneath the counter. You kept your head ducked as you counted out Sam and Joaquín’s, then Steve’s, change.

Joaquín shoved a generous amount of bills in the tip jar and caught your eye. “For your trouble, buttercup,” Joaquín told you, a barely restrained grin on his face as he winked at you and darted a glance at Bucky. 

“Alright, that’s enough, Torres,” Bucky barked, crowding into you from behind, his chest pressing to your back. 

You couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of him, warm and firm and steady behind you. He made you feel safe and comfortable in a way you hadn’t for much of the day, with so much unwanted attention being thrown your way. So you finally shot back with a retort of your own. “Yeah, only Bucky can call me buttercup,” you said, a smile flickering at the corners of your mouth, softening your words a little so Bucky’s friends knew you were just teasing. 

Joaquín laughed happily, not even a little bit miffed about being put in his place. Steve, too, looked pleased as he took a drink from his cup to hide his smile. Sam chuckled, dropping a tip in your jar. “I like you,” he said, pointing at you, laughter in his brown eyes. “If Barnes gives you any trouble, you just let us know, and we’ll set him straight.”

“Nah,” Joaquín jumped in, tugging Sam back from the stall playfully. “She can handle him, can’t you, lemonade girl?” All three of Bucky’s friends looked at you, waiting for an answer. 

You didn’t think Bucky was going to give you any trouble in the way Sam was implying. If anything, you were in trouble of losing your heart to Bucky, whose hand had come to rest on your hip, anchoring you from where he stood behind you. Your heart flipped and those butterflies continued their never-ending flight in your stomach. You tried not to let the thought of how much you already liked Bucky scare you—and found it was easy with him so close to you.

“I can,” you replied, sounding more confident than you felt. It helped that Bucky was still there behind you, his hand resting on your hip letting you know he was with you. 

Bucky’s friends laughed and said their goodbyes, melting back into the crowd to check out the rest of the summer festival. More customers stepped up to the counter and you and Bucky were pulled into a dizzying dance of serving lemonade, making change and, between it all, making fresh pitchers to replace the ones sold. It wasn’t long before Bucky used up all the mint he’d gotten and he had to duck out to get some more from a farmstand down the row. 

True to Steve’s words, Bucky was happy to scare off anyone giving you unwanted attention. Soon after his friends departed, an arrogant jerk who looked to be in his early twenties swaggered up to the counter and whistled while you were bent over, getting more lemons from a cooler. “Don’t worry, your main squeeze is here, baby,” the man said in a sleazy tone, making you stand up quickly and turn with a pinched look on your face. “Why don’tcha pucker up for me?” he asked, clearly not noticing your disgust over his pickup line. 

A growl erupted from Bucky, getting the man’s attention, and all the blood drained from his face as he took in your six-foot, broad-shouldered helper. “What did you just say to her?” Bucky demanded in a low tone, barely leashed rage in his voice. 

“S-sorry, man, I didn’t see you there,” the guy stammered, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I just want some lemonade—I heard it’s good.” 

The stranger’s attempt to pacify Bucky with a compliment didn’t work and Bucky stepped up to the counter, leaning forward and showing how much he towered over the guy. “You’re not getting any lemonade, get out of here,” he said, his expression and voice so dark, you understood why the man cowered the way he did. “And if you ever talk to a woman like that again, I’ll find you and make you regret it—got it?”

Nodding frantically, the man squeaked and darted back into the crowd. Bucky’s face cleared of all anger as he turned to you, his expression scrunching up into one of concern. “Has it been like that all day?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s pretty much been an endless stream of assholes and their lemon puns,” you confirmed, shrugging and dumping the lemons you’d grabbed onto your work station. “Except for one,” you said, shooting Bucky a smile over your shoulder. 

He stepped up behind you, dropping his head to your shoulder. “I’m sorry I was one of those assholes, buttercup,” he muttered. 

You patted his arm and tried to hold your laugh in, but you couldn’t help it. “It’s OK,” you told him. “You redeemed yourself.” That made Bucky laugh slightly, though you could tell he still felt a little guilty. But he settled a hand on your waist, giving you a soft squeeze before returning to what he was doing. 

In between customers, Bucky would make conversation as much as possible, asking you how you’d started the lemonade stall, what you did for fun and all kinds of other questions about your likes and dislikes. You asked about him too, at first trying to seem like it was only polite, but you found you were greedy for his answers, wanting to know all you could about this man that had crashed into your life. 

More and more, you could see yourself and Bucky falling in love and building a future together, working at the lemonade stall and having both your friends over for a dinner party. It surprised you how easy it felt, how comforting the thoughts were when you anticipated being scared of the potential of being hurt. But Bucky had a way of grounding you and making you feel safe, and it occurred to you that that was one of the things you liked most about him.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, you collapsed against the back counter of the stall, heaving a sigh of relief as the latest customers—a large family with a bunch of kids—went on their way. You noticed that the crowd of the festival had thinned and you realized it was close to closing time. There were some vendors who would stick around throughout the evening, but in your area that was mostly a farmer’s market, everyone would begin packing up soon. 

“So, I was thinking,” Bucky said from where he was leaning on the front counter of the stall. You looked to him, noticing he had a sheen of sweat on his face and his swept back hair was a little unkempt. When he wiped at his jaw, he left a streak of sugar. You bit back a smile, thinking he’d become a true lemonade stall employee, nodding at him to go on. “Instead of paying me for helping out today, I was hoping you’d let me take you out on a date,” he said, his blue eyes hopeful.

To distract yourself from the way your heart soared in your chest, you stepped closer to Bucky, using your thumb to wipe away the sugar on his jaw, your finger brushing over the stubble on his face in the process. Bucky’s blue eyes darkened as he stared down at you, waiting patiently for your answer. He was so warm and you’d moved closer than you thought so you felt a little overwhelmed by his presence, but it didn’t even occur to you to retreat.

“That sounds fair,” you murmured, the edge of your mouth pulling up in a half smile.

“Just fair?” Bucky rumbled, his voice deeper than you’d heard it before. He pushed off the counter, standing up straight and suddenly your bodies were so close you had to crane your neck back to keep looking at his face. He pressed closer until your chests brushed, his hands falling to your hips. Your heart pounded in your chest, excitement pumping through your blood, making you feel daring.

“A date sounds good, but I was hoping you’d ask for something I could give you tonight,” you admitted, letting your eyes drop to his mouth, hoping he’d take the hint. 

A surprised sound rumbled in Bucky’s chest and he walked you backward, pinning you against the back counter of the stall. His broad body blocked out the dwindling crowd of the festival so it felt like you were the only two left in the world. “Were you hoping I’d ask you for a kiss for my troubles, buttercup?” Bucky rasped, ducking his head until his mouth hovered a hairsbreadth away from yours. 

His breath smelled like mint and lemons and your entire body throbbed with excited anticipation. Your hands fisted in his shirt, clinging on to him and holding yourself back from closing the distance between your lips yourself. “Yes,” you answered on a soft exhale. 

“Would you have said yes if I had?” Bucky asked, tilting his head and teasing you with the soft gust of his breath. An excited shiver raced down your spine, your entire body tensed with acute awareness of Bucky’s mouth. 

“Yes,” you whispered, tugging on his shirt impatiently. He didn’t budge right away, though, making you wait a moment, his lips curving in a smirk as he teased you. Your mouths were so close you felt rather than saw his smirk and you tugged on his shirt again insistently.  

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Bucky murmured before slanting his mouth to yours, finally pressing a kiss to your lips and giving in to the tension he’d built up. 

Bucky swallowed the laugh that threatened to spill from you, kissing you so thoroughly, you forgot his words entirely. His mouth was tentative at first, but quickly turned ravenous as you pressed into him, eagerly giving in to his kiss. It felt like relief and salvation to finally kiss Bucky after spending so much of the afternoon trapped in the tight space of the lemonade stall with him, unable to stop yourself from noticing again and again how handsome he was, how attractive it was to see how competently he could help you run the stand. Your hands slid from his shirt and buried into his hair, feeling the soft strands slide between your fingers as you clung to him.

Groaning into the kiss as you tugged on his hair, Bucky’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs beneath your chin tilting you gently to the angle he wanted as his lips devoured yours. When he licked along the seam of your mouth, you opened for him with a soft moan, melting in his arms. He surged forward, deepening the kiss until you felt consumed by him. His taste, the heady strokes of his tongue, the rumbling groans in his chest, it was overwhelming in the most delirious and delightful way. 

It wasn’t until your lungs were gasping for air that Bucky pulled away, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “You even taste like lemons and sugar,” he said dazedly, a little bit of awe in his tone. 

You couldn’t stop the giggle the burst from your lips and you buried your face in his shoulder. “You taste like lemons, too,” you said around your laughter. “That’s what happens when you drink lemonade all afternoon.”

Bucky’s mouth pressed suckling kisses to your neck and you tilted your head to the side, giving him better access as you moaned softly into his shirt. “Mm,” he hummed, unconvinced. “I think you always taste like that, buttercup.”

Laughing, you murmured, “I really don’t.”

He hummed again, trailing his lips up to your jaw, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “Well, I guess you’ll have to let me stick around and find out,” he rumbled in your ear. “Let me find out if you taste like sugar everywhere, buttercup.” He punctuated his words by pressing another suckling kiss to your neck, making your head tip back and a breathless moan spill from you. 

“OK,” you said on an exhale. 

Bucky chuckled against your skin. “C’mon, buttercup, let’s clean up and go watch the fireworks.”

“OK,” you repeated, making Bucky laugh again as he pulled away. His eyes were sparkling and he was looking at you with so much affection, you knew in that moment you were both in danger of giving your heart to the other. Instead of being scary, though, it was comforting to know you were in it together. 

Dropping one last kiss to your lips, Bucky extracted himself from where he’d been curled around you. As you turned to start cleaning up your work station, you noticed him readjusting himself in his pants and you could’t help but smirk to yourself. 

Suddenly, you couldn’t wait for the date you’d agreed to go on with Bucky—and especially what would come after. If his kiss was heady and all-consuming, you could only imagine what being with Bucky more intimately would be like. You had to shake those thoughts away, or else you wouldn’t get anything done, and you were excited to go watch the summer festival’s fireworks with Bucky. 

The work of closing down the lemonade stall went quick with the two of you, and it wasn’t long before everything was packed up in your car. When it was done, Bucky threw his arm around your shoulders and led you to the grassy hill where everyone was gathered to watch the fireworks. You found his friends on a blanket with some others, and were handed a drink as you sat down. Bucky sat behind you, his legs on either side of your hips as he pulled you into him until your back rested against his chest. 

While his friends chatted, you tilted your head back to look up at Bucky. “I could get used to this,” you said, smiling up at him. Once the words were out, you realized you meant more than just sitting curled up with Bucky. You meant spending time with him, getting to know him, fitting into each other’s lives. You meant you could get used to him being in your life. 

You weren’t sure if Bucky understood the full meaning of your words, but his gaze softened as he looked at you with so much fondness, it made your heart flutter. “I could get used to this too, buttercup,” he murmured, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb. You tilted your face up further, pouting your lips in a wordless plea for a kiss. Bucky chuckled. “Pucker up, buttercup,” he murmured before kissing you softly. 

The fireworks show started with a loud boom overhead, but they were nothing compared to those that lit up inside you at the feel of Bucky’s lips against yours. He kissed you slowly, sweetly, like you had all the time in the world—and you realized you did. When he finally pulled away, you snuggled deeper into his chest and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you close as you watched the fireworks together.

Bucky walked you back to your car at the end of the night and kissed you again against your door before having you put your number in his phone. He waved as you drove away and you heard your phone chime with a text before you got home. He’d asked that you let him know when you were home safe and you replied when you were, though the conversation stretched long into the night.

Later that week, Bucky took you out for the date he’d promised, and at the end of the night, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him into your home when he dropped you off. Bucky insisted on kissing every inch of your body and claimed every bit of you tasted like sugar and lemons. Though you weren’t sure you believed him, it made you laugh all the same. Then he pulled you close, your bodies fitting together intimately and you stopped laughing, your giggles dissolving into moans as you reveled in the feel of each other.

The following weekend, Bucky helped you open up the lemonade stall and the first thing he did was take down that “Pucker up!” sign. He grumbled that he was the only one allowed to say that to you, but you knew he was doing it because he knew the attention it brought bothered you. You told him to keep the sign, saying he should hang it up at his place. He agreed with a sparkle in blue eyes, and when he invited you over after your next date, you saw he’d hung it in his bedroom. You laughed as he pulled you in for a kiss, swallowing the sounds down with a chuckle of his own.

It was still there months later when you moved in with Bucky, and he’d wake you up in the mornings by murmuring, “Pucker up, buttercup,” in your ear. Then, when you and Bucky moved together, trading in his apartment for a house, the sign came along with you. It hung in the kitchen, and whenever anyone would ask about it, Bucky would take your hand, kissing the pair of rings on your left hand, and tell them the story of how you met. 

He’d always conclude the story the same way—by turning to you, his blue eyes sparkling with all the affection he felt for you. You’d tilt your face up, pouting your lips, knowing what was coming. Bucky would murmur, “Pucker up, buttercup,” and then he would kiss you. 

God, that sounds so wrong. Like you are only friends with him just to be closer to Bucky, that’s definitely not the case but you can’t deny Bucky is one of the reasons you are visiting him so often. You like that Bucky secretly watches you two while you are playing games and celebrates your every victory. You know he just loves to annoy Sam but it makes you so happy every time he joins your efforts to brag about winning but that’s mostly it. 

You tried really hard to find some common interests with Bucky so you two can chat. He likes games, he loves reading books and you have a couple of classes together. You have a lot of things in common but nothing sticks for long when you are trying to have a conversation with him. You are not sure if it’s because he’s totally uninterested in you or you are just horrible at flirting. This doesn’t stop you from trying though. 

That’s why you are at Sam and Bucky’s place. Once again you found a reason to stop by and maybe because he has had enough of you, Bucky makes a comment that you did not expect.

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on Sam.”

“What?” The shock you feel is so hard to explain. You how no idea how surprised you sound.

“Well, you are here nearly every day.” Bucky tries to explain his thought process, already sounding awkward because of your reaction.

“Eww, no.” 

“What do you mean eww no?” Sam sounds offended.

“You are my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and?” God, does Sam thinks that way, too? You thought you two had an understanding. “You dated my best friend. You are like a brother to me. Of course, I’m gonna say eww.”

“Oh, some kind of girl's code, huh?” Bucky somehow sounds relieved but you don’t notice it’s because of your response.

“Great answer, bub. I was testing you.” Sam’s offended tone instantly disappears.

“Were you?” Bucky questions him before you can. “You sounded really offended to me.”

“Part of my talent.”

The conversation quickly changes into something else but Bucky’s observation sticks with you. Bucky thinking you might have feelings for Sam leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You are here to see him, day after day, and all this time he thought you just came to see Sam. Either he’s blind or you are just not good at showing your intentions. And then there’s a third option that you don’t even wanna think about: He noticed exactly who you are here for and decided to ignore it so he doesn’t have to reject you. Either way, it hurts. 

You consider canceling your study session with Bucky. It’s just gonna be awkward to sit next to him and try to focus on the notes. Plus, you are sure studying alone will be more efficient. No distractions at all.

“About our studying session…” You start to speak before leaving with the intention to cancel your plans.

“Oh yeah, you are still coming, right?” Bucky’s whole face lights up. It’s hard not to see it. He seems excited. “I convinced Faye to share her notes with me. You know how great her notes are. It’s already guaranteed that we will get an amazing score.”

Oh, that’s why he’s excited. Because he used his charm and managed to convince Faye to share her notes. She doesn’t do that often, if ever. She knows how precious her notes are and he’s right. That is literally your golden ticket to get a great score. 

“I was gonna ask if you still want to study together.”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He sounds confused.

“I don’t know.” You sound unsure. “Maybe you are tired of me since I’m always around.”

“Oh, come on! I was just joking.” He quickly responds. “You always come here to spend time with Sam. We never hang out just the two of us.”

He’s right. He always stays away from you. Only making comments from far away. Maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign.

“This is not hanging out, either. It’s just studying together.” 

He shrugs and you miss the disappointed expression that passes his face.

“Just come, okay? I promise it will be worth it.”

“Ugh, I’m glad I won’t be here. You two are insufferable. It’s just a study date. No big deal.” Sam can’t help but comment on your conversation.

“It’s not a date.” You and Bucky say at the same time. You look at him, feeling disappointed but try to hide it as much as you can.

“Whatever you say,” Sam raises both of his hands in defense but doesn’t seem like he believed you.

*

This was definitely a bad idea. It’s been a while since you two started studying and you did not understand a word. Not because Faye’s notes are bad. Nope, they are perfect but you can’t seem to focus on the words. The only thing you can focus on is Bucky’s smell. You try really hard not to check him out and it’s relatively easier since he’s sitting close to you but his smell… God, that’s so distracting. You have no idea what exactly it is. It seems like a mix of his own smell, the perfume he uses, and a bit of a sweat. You should be disgusted by the thought of sweat but all you want to do is get closer to him.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. This is just a silly crush, nothing more. You can just focus on the notes and learn something useful before the exam. You can do that, right? While you try to read the same sentence for the 19th time, Bucky takes his phone and starts to type something. The idea of him texting someone else while studying with you is so irritating but there’s nothing you can do about it. This is just a stupid study session for him. You push your chair to the back, thinking about getting a glass of water.

“I’m gonna get-” When you notice the awkward expression on Bucky’s face you stop talking. Before he can cover it, you notice the reason he’s looking so uncomfortable. His erection is impossible to hide in those gray shorts he’s wearing. 

“It’s not what you think.” He immediately responds while trying to hide his erection but there’s no way he can tuck it in while you are staring at him.

“Are you really sexting with someone while we are studying?” That’s the first thing that comes to your mind and you can’t keep that thought to yourself. 

“What? No!”

“I mean… it’s alright. You can see or talk to whoever you want but…” It’s so hard to collect your thoughts and turn them into meaningful sentences while your mind is running miles in seconds. It feels so humiliating and not because of the erection. The thought of him sexting someone right next to you… while you tried to get his attention all this time… It just stings.

“What the fuck?” He sounds completely shocked. “I’m not sexting anyone. Why would you even think that?”

“Why else would you get an erection in the middle of studying?” You really can’t think of any other possibilities. Plus he’s still holding his phone. “It’s fine.”

He says your name in a way he never did before. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m not sexting with anyone. I texted Sam and then I was googling a word I saw in Faye’s notes because I have no idea what it means and I thought it would help me calm down.”

“Oh.” That’s completely unexpected. Then why did he get an erection out of the blue?

“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want you to find out like this. God! It’s so embarrassing.” His words don’t make sense to you. What is he trying to say?

“Find out about what?” You try to understand him. “That you get erections?”

“What? No.” Then what did he mean? “I didn’t want you to find out… about my feelings… like this.” He sounds so nervous, even more nervous than you are feeling.

“For me?” The question comes instantly because there is no way that’s what he meant.

“Of course for you. Who else?” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You finally put two and two together. “You just got an erection, because of me?”

“Ihm…” You can’t help but notice how awkward he sounds. “Yeah… I’m really sorry. I’m so ashamed.” He covers his face with both of his hands for a second. Then he continues. “I really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I swear I’m not a creep. You just smell… so good.”

“You just got an erection because you have feelings for me?” You are sounding like a stuck record at this point but you can’t believe he really said that.

“Yeah. I was planning to ask you out, tonight. That’s why I was texting Sam but… instead… I made a fool of myself.” The panic in tone is so evident. Your eyes go back to his still-obvious erection. “I’m normally not like this. I don’t know what happened. Please forgive me.”

“Do you want me to help you with that?” You ask without taking your eyes off the outline of his erection.

“What?”

“Since you got hard because of me, I’m offering help.” You slowly close the distance between you two.

“That’s not… necessary.” He gulps. “It will go away in a few minutes.”

You have no idea where this wave of confidence comes from. Maybe because he just told you he wanted to ask you out or maybe because the smell of you gave him a hard-on. You just find yourself gently palming his erection over his shorts and he instantly takes a sharp breath.

“What if… I don’t want it to go away?”

“You’re not… you’re not offended?”

“You are not a random creep out in the street, Bucky. I know you. I like you. Why would I be offended?”

“Wait, you like me?” He sounds like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah.” You keep gently rubbing him. He doesn’t take a step back or try to stop you. His eyelashes flutter like he’s enjoying the sensation. “Why do you think I was visiting Sam so often?”

“Not because you have a crush on him?” He asks with a smile.

“Nope, because I have a crush on you.”

“You… have… a crush on me?” It feels like in the span of a couple of minutes, you two changed roles and it’s his turn to feel surprised by your words.

“Yeah. For a while.”

“I guess Sam was right.” 

“Was he?” You ask while you move your head closer. “About what?”

“He said you like me and I’m too blind to notice it.”

“Hmm… Even he noticed it, huh? I guess he is right.” Bucky looks at your lips while you are talking. You can see the idea of kissing you forming in his head.

“Can I…” He sounds like he isn’t sure, yet he tries one more time. “Can I kiss you?”

“My hand is on your hard cock, right now. What do you think?” Your response gives him a huge grin.

“I still wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes, you can kiss me, Bucky.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips instantly crush on yours, like a thirsty man who finally found a glass of cold water. His lips move fast against yours until you rub on his cock again. It makes him gasp in the middle of the kiss, and the rhythm is lost. You feel how painfully hard he is under your touch. You don’t know if it is your effect or it’s because it has been a while for him. You would like to know, but you don’t want to ask. Instead, your hands move to the waistband of his shorts. You look directly into his eyes, silently asking for permission. He just gulps and then blinks. 

You always thought he was just distant when it comes to you, but you finally realize it was actually Bucky’s shyness. He gets flushed under your touch, struggling to find the right words. He communicates through his body language, but you want to change that a little. You want him to be vocal if you are gonna have sex. That’s when the idea of sucking him off comes to you. Unexpectedly, you kneel and gently push his shorts and boxers down while he watches you with big eyes. There’s no fear or worry behind those eyes. You see how excited but reserved he is. You want to show him there’s nothing to worry about. While directly looking at him, you start to stroke him. His cock is so close to your face, but you don’t make a move, you only move your hand up and down on his shaft slowly. His breathing shutters under your touch, but he says nothing. He just watches you.

“Is this okay?” You ask, already knowing it is. You just want him to talk. You wanna hear his voice.

“Ye-yeah.” He sounds so breathy. You start to twist your wrist a little, just to change the sensation.

“What about this?” He takes a deep breath.

“So good.” 

Maybe he isn’t a talker during sex. That’s fine, but you don’t want to give up that quickly. So this time, you sit on your knees and take him inside your mouth without any warning.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” His reaction makes you want to smile so widely, but your mouth is full of him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” You ask while pumping him with your hand.

“Just warn me, so I don’t embarrass myself.”

“Embarrass yourself how?” Your question catches him off guard. “I wanna hear those reactions. Don't hold back!” 

He just nods like a good boy, and that makes you smile. You don’t say anything, though. You just take him back into your mouth. This time, he lets out a moan. Your tongue moves around the head of his cock, swirling over and over again until he whines. He literally whines under your tongue and that makes you feel like you won a prize. It doesn’t take him long to grab your hair. He doesn’t try to control your movement or push you. It just feels like he’s trying to find something to hold on to.

You pace up a little, moving your head up and down on his cock while gently massaging his balls. That does it. First, you hear a loud moan that sounds like choking, then before he could even utter a word, the first shot of his come hits the back of your throat. You keep going until he empties himself. While you move away from him, you see his eyes are still closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them just in time to catch you swallowing.

“Oh my fucking god…” He sounds like he can’t believe what he is witnessing. You wonder if no one has ever done this in front of him before.

“How are you feeling now?” Your voice is much calmer than you expect. 

“So good. You have no idea.”

“I might have a little bit of an idea.” You smile while standing up. The hard floor tired your knees so you rub both of them.

“That was just amazing.” For some reason, he sounds younger and inexperienced at this moment. Like this was his first blowjob ever but you know that’s not the case. You heard a couple of stories from Sam, and you know this isn’t Bucky’s first rodeo. Yet, he sounds so affected by you. That directly goes to your ego.

You sit back down on your chair, not knowing what to do next, but it doesn’t take you long to realize Bucky does. He’s already getting on his knees while you give him a confused look.

“You know, that’s not necessary, right?”

“I know.”

“You don’t need to return the favor or anything. I did it because I wanted to.” You have no idea why you are discouraging him to do whatever he is planning on doing. You want to see what he wants, yet you don’t want him to feel obliged or anything.

“And now I am doing this because I want to.” 

He puts his hands on both of your legs, gently pushing them apart. You didn’t realize how turned on you are until this moment. Your focus was completely on him, wanting to make him feel good and you forgot about yourself. You didn’t even realize how wet you are. Carefully, he moves into the space between your legs and pushes your skirt up. His fingers graze over your covered pussy, and you are sure he can actually feel your wetness through the fabric.

“Can I take it off?” God, why does he sound so shy while asking that? And why does it turn you on even more?

“Are you gonna ask my permission for every single move?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“I like it, but you don’t have to ask everything. Not after coming inside my mouth.” You smile after finishing your sentence and you watch how flushed he gets, but you see that he understands what you mean. His hands reach for your underwear and take it off pretty quickly like he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t touch your skirt, simply gets under it. That’s why you can’t see the first time he licks you. Immediately you move your skirt up to your waist and here he is, buried between your legs. He hungrily eats you out, his long licks sending shivers down your spine. 

“Oh my god!” 

Your reaction makes him look up for the first time. That flushed expression turned into pure hunger. His blue eyes watch every mimic you make while he starts to suck your clit. He definitely started strong, but you can’t complain, especially when you are this soaked. You didn’t even realize you pushed your legs together and trapped him between them until he gently pushed them apart.

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly say, but he doesn’t seem to care. He licks, he sucks, and does everything in his power to crumble under his touch. It’s so intense that you can’t think of anything other than the way he makes you feel. You don’t even notice how quickly your first orgasm hits you. It’s hard and fast. You can’t keep your voice down. No, you moan his name so loudly. If he didn’t come a couple of minutes ago, the way you said his name over and over again would get him hard again. Even with that in mind, he could feel the blood rushing to his dick, yet he keeps licking you until you push his head away.

“That’s… that’s enough.” It’s hard to breathe normally. You really didn’t expect to come this hard. The orgasm is still running through your whole body. 

“Sensitive?” His voice is low yet sweet.

“Yeah, a little.” You take a deep breath. “Just give me a second.”

He does that, but instead of moving away, he puts his head on your leg. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you look at him. He is so pretty like this, looking up to you with big blue eyes and a wet mouth. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “I didn’t expect to come this hard.”

“Well…” You watch a big grin spreading on his lips. “Welcome to my world. I didn’t expect to come without a warning either.”

“That good?”

“Oh, yeah. That good.” He quickly agrees. “Sorry about that though.”

“Sorry about what?” You really have no idea what he means.

“Sorry about coming without warning.”

“Oh. That’s fine.” You stop for a second. “Sorry about giving you a hard-on.”

“The most embarrassing and the most amazing thing that ever happened to me.”

“Hmm… How so?” You fish for more.

“I don’t… You know… Go around getting hard-ons randomly.”

“Really? I thought that happened a lot to men.” 

“Not like this. Waking up with morning wood? Yeah. That happens, but getting an erection in the middle of studying? That’s a first.”

“Happy to have a first in your life.”

“I never came like this without a warning either.”

“Two firsts.” You don’t realize how smug you sound, but he does.

“What about you?”

“I don’t think I have ever come this hard without… you know… something inside me.”

“Is that so?” The way he smiles just makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “You like to have something inside?”

“If they know… how to use it.”

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?” 

He moves his head away from your right leg, repositioning himself, and before you could say anything, his mouth is on you again. His tongue is gentle, testing the waters to see if you are still sensitive, but honestly, you are not. You just want him to move a little faster. You don’t say it though. You want to see what he is planning. He keeps on licking you for a while, making sure you are ready for his fingers and when he decides that you are, he slowly pushes his index finger inside. You moan in response.

“Does it feel good?” He takes his mouth off your clit for a second to ask.

“Yeah. It feels so good!” You can feel what he is trying to do. He’s building up your pleasure so slowly, you know it’s going to be explosive at the end. He keeps pumping his finger in and out of you while watching your expressions. 

“Do you want the second one or…” You don’t let him finish his question. 

“I want the second one.”

Your response makes him smile again. You are not sure what makes him happier: your eagerness or your openness. It does seem like he isn’t used to getting direct feedback, but he thrives on it. Quickly, he adds the second finger inside and you can’t help but notice how his thick fingers are filling you. It’s such a delicious feeling. You are so lost in it, you don’t realize how he leans back into your pussy. He nibbles your clit carefully while moving his finger at a steady pace. You can’t help but think he knows what he’s doing and he’s good at reading your reactions. He notices you react more when he licks instead of sucks, so he quickly switches back to it.

“Oh, fuck!” You love how his tongue feels against your skin. Your hands find his hair, pulling it gently just to ground yourself. You feel him moan against your clit when you tug on his hair. The idea of him enjoying it somehow turns you on even more. You decide to test it and pull his hair a little bit more when you feel like doing it. His loud moan vibrates on your swollen clit. It’s like he can’t get enough of it.

“Someone likes a bit of pain.” 

He pulls away from your pussy for a second. When he looks at you, you can see how turned on he is. The hunger is evident in his eyes. 

“Someone likes being full.”

“I’m not full, yet.” You aren’t trying to tease him, that’s the truth yet you can see that sounds like a promise to him. The promise of taking a lot more than just two fingers. He doesn’t say anything. He just goes back to licking and pumping his fingers. The only difference is he’s moving a lot faster than before and you aren’t sure how long you can take this before your orgasm comes back to crush you. It’s overwhelming yet not enough. You don’t realize how your body arches before you start to lose yourself in that pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Words come out involuntarily. “Don’t stop, Bucky. Please. So good. So fucking good.”

He keeps going, keeping that same pace. He wants to encourage you and talk to you, but his mouth is busy giving you pleasure. Hearing you moaning and begging is enough for now.

“Oh, god.” Your whole body starts to shake. It’s like your whole body is electrified. “Yes, yes, yes, Bucky. God, I love your mouth so much.”

He smiles against your clit but doesn’t break the contact. He didn’t think you would be this vocal, but he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Ahh, fuck, ahhh yes.” You moan out while shaking. You have no idea how long this orgasm lasts, but you feel so good. As your shaking starts to slow down, Bucky starts to move slower to match that.

“Mmm.” You knew sex with Bucky would be good but this is definitely how you imagined it. Finally, he moves his mouth away from you when he realizes your orgasm is done. You feel so boneless, so relieved.

“Are you okay?” His question brings you back to reality and you notice your eyes are closed. You open them back up and meet his gaze.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great.” He smiles so proudly.

“Glad to hear that.”

“You have no idea how tired yet relaxed I am feeling right now.”

“Not too tired I hope.” That surprises you.

“Why is that?”

“I thought you wanted to be full.” Then you see his erection. It’s actually impossible not to see how painfully hard he is even though he already came once.

“You want to…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence. You thought you would be done after this. You never had someone who wanted you like this before. The feeling settles into your chest. He wants you. He still wants you that bad after coming so hard. It makes you feel seen and desired.

“Unless you don’t want to…”

“Oh, I do.” Your response is instant. You really do. Even after two orgasms, you feel like you want more. You imagined riding his dick or him bending you over and fucking you hard so many times. You want to know how it really feels. 

“Good.” He stands up, and when his erection is on your eye level, you can’t help but stare. Not every dick is aesthetically pleasing. Some don’t even look like they would feel good, but Bucky… Bucky’s dick waters your mouth like you didn’t already give him a blowjob. You need it inside of you. While you are lost in thoughts, Bucky picks you up from your chair. You let out a small yelp while he offers you a warm smile.

“Just carrying you to the bedroom, doll.”

“Doll?” You never heard him use that nickname before.

“Yeah, you are a pretty little doll. So beautiful and so smart. Very eager and loud.”

You don’t know how to react. A lot of praises combined with stuff that makes you wanna question him more.

“Am I that loud?” You can’t help but ask.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure my neighbors hate us right now.”

“Oh god.” You feel your cheeks getting red, but he doesn’t seem concerned.

“Don’t let that stop you. I wanna hear how good I make you feel, doll.” He gently puts you on top of the bed. 

“Doll.” You repeat, without an implied question mark. 

“If you don’t like it…”

“I do. I really do.” You want to be his pretty little doll and your reaction makes him smile again. “It’s just new. I never heard you say it.”

“Because it is only for you.” Those words cause different a kind of warmth to spread through your chest.

You watch him open the drawer and pull out a condom. He rips the package off impatiently and puts it on with haste. Seeing how impatient he is makes you giggle and that makes him look back at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Someone is eager to be inside me.”

“Aren’t you eager to feel my cock inside you?” His words take you by surprise. What happened to that shy boy who couldn’t find the word to tell you what he wants? Your shocked look makes him worry a little. He’s afraid that he crossed some kind of line.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Your words sweep away his fear.

“You like that?” He asks while closing the distance between you. “You like when I say dirty stuff like that?”

“Yeah. I love it.”

“You wanna hear how good you are for me?” You didn’t expect that question at all. He moves closer to you, forcing you to lie down. He positions himself between your legs. “Because you are so good for me.” His words make your pussy clench around nothing. You really need him inside you, and he doesn’t waste any time. He knows you are as impatient as he is. He slowly pushes his cock inside, taking his time and being gentle. He moves back and then forth until he’s balls deep inside you and you can’t hold back that loud moan. It just feels so good to be full.

“Shit.” You throw your head back. Your legs automatically wrap around his torso. He leans down and gives you a long kiss, taking his sweet time so you can get used to the feeling of him. Then he starts to move slowly while his mouth moves to your neck, gently sucking on your skin. It feels great, but somehow it’s not enough. So you start to move your hips with him, matching his rhythm but creating more friction.

“You want more already?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, more like he’s amused.

“Yeah. I need it harder.”

“Harder.” He repeats. “My doll needs it harder.”

Before you can say anything, he moves away from you. A loud whine leaves your lips. You don’t like that feeling of emptiness. You want to protest, but he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He pushes your legs up and repositions himself between your legs. Then without saying a word, he gets inside you again.

“Holy fuck.” Your reaction comes out instantly. It feels so different, even more full. Then he starts to move, a little harder than before. Even though he isn’t using much force, because of the angle, it feels much better.

“Is it hard enough for you?” He sounds cheeky. 

“Yes, for now.”

“For now.” He repeats your words. “For now is good because we are just starting.”

You would love to say something back, but it feels too good. The only thing you can do is moan. With every moan you let out, he moves a little bit faster, he grows a little bit more impatient. He pays attention to what makes you moan more, which movement makes you lose yourself, and tries to repeat them. The room is filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and how wet you are. Combined with your moans, he starts to lose control and move faster than before. That triggers more moans out of you. It turns into a vicious cycle until you are panting and begging.

“Please, please, please…” You can already taste your orgasm. It’s that close.

“Please what? Tell me what you need.”

“More… I need more.”

“Be more specific, doll. More of what?” That nickname sends a jolt of electricity through your body. “Do you want me to rub your clit?”

“No, no.” That’s not what you need. “I need you to move faster.”

“If I move faster… I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Don’t hold back.” You say while taking deep breaths. “Let’s come together.”

“Are you sure? It won’t last that long.”

“Try to hold back until I say let go.” You really want to come at the same time.

“I’m not sure if that will work.”

“You can stop anytime if you feel like you are about to come before me. That’s okay.”

“But what about…” You don’t let him finish.

“We can build my orgasm back up. It’s there, I can feel it. Just move as fast as you can and try to hold back. You can let go when I start coming, okay?”

He nods, but you see he’s not fully convinced. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you.

“It’s okay if you come before me. Not the end of the world.”

“I don’t… I don’t wanna let you down.” The vulnerability is so evident in his voice.

“You can never let me down. I don’t care if you come early. I will take it as a compliment.”

Your words make him smile a little. His hesitation is still there, but the urge to please you outweighs his worries. He leans down and kisses you in response. Long and full of love. You realize how much your words mean to him just with that kiss. When he pulls back, he starts to move again. He returns to his previous pace and starts to go faster bit by bit. You can feel that familiar feeling of approaching orgasm again. It’s slowly building up, but when you look at Bucky’s face, you notice he’s closer than you are. You need to get there a little faster. That’s why your fingers quickly find your clit and start to rub. When he notices what you are doing, he groans. His hips start to move so fast, you can’t help but scream. Your fingers combined with his fast pace finally push you over that edge.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.” You repeat without thinking and he knows what that means. He can finally let go. His hands grab your waist, getting that support he needs to fuck you into the mattress. The way he moves makes you see the stars. 

“Fuck, doll, I’m coming too!” Your mouth opens for a silent scream while he starts to come. The way he moans and groans fills you with pleasure, knowing you are the reason behind all of that. “Oh, god.” He keeps moving even though he’s done. He wants you to enjoy your orgasm till the last drop and you do. You let yourself thrive on every last bit of that amazing feeling. 

He finally stops moving when he realizes you are done. He gently pulls himself out of you, making you whine a little, and lays right next to you. You turn to your side, facing him while still trying to calm your breathing down.

“You just ruined me,” he suddenly says.

“I ruined you? I think it’s the other way around, mister.” He’s the one who gave you three mind-blowing orgasms and he has the audacity to say this. 

“I don’t think you understand.” He sounds calm yet sure. “Sex never felt this amazing before.”

His words make you giggle a little but you are aware he’s right. It never felt this good before him and there’s no way you can go back.

“You are a thief.”

“Me? A thief?” Your words catch him off guard.

“Yep, you are stealing my thoughts and presenting them as yours.” 

“So it was that good for you too?”

“My mind is blown. You have no idea.” That gives him the biggest grin. 

“Does that mean you will let me take you on a date?”

“What date?” You play dumb. You know exactly what he means but you want him to actually ask. 

“You know what date.”

“Nope, I don’t. I haven’t been asked on a date for ages.”

He grabs your hand and looks directly into your eyes. “Will you go on a date with me, doll?”

“Of course, I will, with pleasure.” And that makes him laugh.

“Yep, a lot of pleasure.”

“Shit!” You suddenly jump.

“What?” He sounds so worried.

“Our exam!” You completely forgot about it. “We were supposed to study!”

“We still have time.” He tries to calm you down. “Just lie down a little until you catch your breath. We have Faye’s notes, remember? It’s gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Oh, yeah.” You remember Faye’s notes. It suddenly changes your mood.

“Are you okay?” He immediately notices. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. We are lucky we have her notes.” You try not to sound bitter but it doesn’t work. He sees right through it.

“Remind me to thank her tomorrow.” You feel the jealousy build up inside you because you know it doesn’t matter how much you beg, Faye never shares her notes, and Bucky managing to convince her could mean only one thing.

“Yeah, I should thank her too.”

“You definitely should.” He watches how your expression changes after his words and his smile grows.

“What are you smiling for?”

“Nothing. I just love seeing you get jealous for nothing.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Sure, that’s why you look like you wanna stab her a couple of times.”

“No, I don’t.” You deny it at first, but you can see he doesn’t believe you. “I just… know that she doesn’t share her notes with anyone. She must have a crush on you. Which is understandable.”

“Is it?” He’s still smiling like a fool.

“Are you seriously enjoying this?” You are getting so angry that you try to move away from the bed but Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Let me go!”

“There’s nothing to get jealous about, doll.” He sees you don’t believe him. “I only have eyes for you and that’s what I said to Faye to convince her to give me her notes.”

“What?”

“I told her I want to ask you out, but I wanna impress you with this study date first. She thought it was a great idea and shared her notes with me.”

“I thought this wasn’t a study date.” You remember him denying it was.

“Well, after everything that happened…” He gives you a look that screams sex. “I think we can finally call it a study date.” Those words give you the biggest grin.

“Can we have more study dates like this?”

“The girlfriend has a name,” you mumble. While making your way down hallways and past windowed rooms, your nerves increase as you don’t see Bucky anywhere. After what felt like an eternity, the officer opened a door, startling both Bucky and an older woman sitting across from him. Before you could even get a word out, Bucky leapt out of his seat and nearly crushed you in a giant hug. You squealed as you felt your feet lifting off the ground.

“Okay, okay, hi to you too!” you laugh. Bucky wastes no time in planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Hi baby, I missed you. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He sets you down as you roll your eyes with a smile.

“Don’t try to charm your way out of this, Barnes. You’re not supposed to be getting into any more trouble,” you tried (and failed miserably) to hide a smile. Bucky chuckles at your attempt to reprimand him, until a grating voice interrupts both of you.

“If you two are finished, I’d like to get at least one productive conversation in today,” you looked around Bucky at the woman still sitting, your cheeks flushed red with the realization you two had company. Bucky sighed heavily and took your hand. He led you to one of the two chairs in the interrogation room, looking at you with his brows furrowed when you let go of his hand. You finally catch his gaze, surprised at the expression you see.

“Buck, you ok?”

“You’re gonna sit there?” you looked around the room hopelessly confused.

“Oh, uh…did you want this chair?” his expression has yet to change.

“Why are you sitting so far away? Do I smell or somethin’?” you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in your throat, scooching the empty chair four inches to the left so the frames are now touching. 

“There, happy now?” Simultaneously, you reach out for each other's hands as Bucky relents and sits next to you. 

“Very,” Bucky beams. Neither of you notice the way Dr. Raynor’s eyes narrow for a brief moment before speaking.

“Actually, James, do you mind giving us a moment? I’d like to speak with Y/N alone.” Bucky nearly gives himself whiplash with how fast he swerves his head.

“Why do you -” before Bucky can finish his thought, you’re interrupting him.

“It’s fine, Buck. We’ll be ok,” you’re nodding at him to try and ease his anxiety, but it’s doing little to calm his racing heart. He leans in to give you one last kiss before holding your head between his palms. 

“I’ll be right outside, ok sweetheart?” you nood again as he gives a final glare to Dr. Raynor, who seems unphased. “I love you,” he reminds you sweetly.

“Love you, too.” You both can’t help the dopey grins on your faces as you don’t turn back until Bucky is completely out of the room. When you face Dr. Raynor, you immediately drop your smile. Her gaze gives nothing away as you both wait for someone to say something.

“So,” Dr. Raynor relents. “I’m sure you already know who I am. Let’s skip the formalities. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about James? He doesn’t bring you up much during our sessions, so I’m happy to see you actually exist,” She fakes a smile, her tone indicating she knows she’s pushing the right buttons. You know for a fact that’s a lie; even though therapy exhausts him, Bucky always mentions a story or two that he brought up. It was mostly his way to avoid Dr. Raynor’s questions about himself, but you thought it was cute regardless.

“Nice try,” you scoffed back. “Maybe if you actually cared about helping him, he would trust you enough to open up.” Dr. Raynor bites her bottom lip, her eyes shifting back and forth as an internal debate stops as quickly as it starts.

“You want to know what I do know about James?” She leans forward with her elbows on the table. “I know that this relationship with you is going to end up hurting him in his recovery.” You’re clearly taken aback as your eyes widen and your mouth slacks open. 

“What are you -”

“I know that you were completely inseparable while he was in Bucharest, then again once you made it to Wakanda, and now here, post-blip.” Dr. Raynor interrupts. “It’s not healthy, it borders on codependency.” At this point, you are fuming, but you’re still trying to hold your emotions back. You don’t want to risk Bucky being dealt the consequences of your potential outburst. 

“How is that different from any other romantic relationship? Of course we spend time together! God forbid that we actually love each other! How does that hinder his recovery?”

“Because you’re not ‘any other romantic relationship,’ are you?” Dr. Raynor leans back in her seat. “You’re in a relationship with someone who was a prisoner of war and has a lot of amends to make. How can he heal from his past if it’s always right next to him?”

“You…you think that I -”

“I believe you could be a constant reminder to James about his past. You met him when he was still considered the Soldier; when he was on the run and had no one to help him. He attached himself to the first person who showed him a sliver of kindness and now he doesn’t know how to function without you. James doesn’t have any other close relationships and I believe he’s not going to make the effort as long as he has you.” You’ve heard enough. You take a deep breath, looking at Dr. Raynor directly in the eye as you gather the right words. 

“Let me make something perfectly clear, Doc. I don’t give a shit what you think. Not about me, or Bucky, and ESPECIALLY about our relationship. You can’t even give him the basic decency of calling him by his preferred name, so forgive me if I think your opinions are worthless.” You slide your chair back aggressively and start to exit the room.

“At least give him a chance,” Dr. Raynor called out, stopping you in your tracks. “He deserves an out if he wants one.” You thought nothing else coming out of her mouth would shock you, but that was absolutely the last straw. Slamming open the door of the interrogation room, you’re escorted by an officer back to the lobby of the station.

The ride home was eerily silent. Bucky kept tossing glances your way but you kept your gaze out the window, ruminating on what Dr. Raynor had confided in you. Were you really hurting Bucky that badly? Did letting go of his past mean letting you go too? Before you knew it, Sam had pulled up in front of your apartment building and put the car in park. You got out of the backseat not even looking to see if Bucky was following behind you. Sam and Bucky shared a combined look of worry and confusion.

“Alright, that was the most awkward car ride of my life. What’s going on with you guys?” Sam inquired.

“Not sure,” Bucky grumbled, walking into the building. “Thanks again for the ride.” he tosses behind him as he makes his way up the stairs and into your living room. The sight before him nearly made Bucky’s knees crumble. You were in tears on the couch, eyes already bloodshot and hugging a pillow to your chest. Bucky quickly made his way around to you and immediately tried to console you.

“Hey hey hey, baby what’s wrong?” he asked gently. He tried to grab the pillow from you, only for you to throw it on the ground and lunge forward, hugging your arms around his neck while Bucky’s went around your torso. You couldn’t help the sobs slipping through as you held him. Bucky felt completely helpless hearing your cries, but he knew you’d talk when you were ready. Slowly, you released him from your grasp and sighed, Bucky keeping his hands on your body to ground you. He searched your eyes to try and figure out why you felt this way, but you refused to make eye contact until you spoke.

“Am I…am I holding you back?” your voice wavered as you asked. “Because you don’t owe me anything, you know? I know we’ve been together for a long time and it hasn’t exactly been the easiest, but I just…I just want you to know that you don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.” Bucky’s brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he realized why you were asking.

“What did she say?” he asked, bringing his right hand to rest on your cheek.

“Who?” you tried feigning innocence, but that only earned you with an eye roll. 

“You know who. What did Dr. Raynor say to you?” you shifted on the couch as you took both of Bucky’s hands in yours and rubbed circles with your thumbs to calm down.

“She…she thinks I might be hindering your recovery,” Bucky’s expression softened as you desperately tried to steady your voice. “She said she feels like our relationship might be keeping you stuck in the past and you might not ever move on if you stay with me.” Bucky hummed in acknowledgement, letting go of your limp hands and running his metal hand down his face.

“Stuck in the past…” he sighs. Bucky looked over at you, scrunching his mouth to the side while you remained teary-eyed and hopelessly confused. “Well then, she’s really gonna hate this.” Bucky makes his way over to your bookshelf, digging around until he pulls something out with a small smile. Walking back over, Bucky reveals a small blue velvet box.

“Bucky is…is that-”

“I had Steve make a quick pit stop for me,” he chuckled. “If I had it my way, I would’ve gotten down on one knee the first time you gave me flowers in Bucharest.” Bucky sits as close as he possibly can to you on the couch. Tears threaten to flood over his lash line as he opens the box revealing something you had only seen in pictures; his mother’s wedding ring.

“I love you so much. I don’t care about what anyone else has to say about it. I’ve waited my entire life for you and I don’t plan on screwing that up. I know we’ve only talked a little bit about marriage, but I wanted you to see that whenever you’re ready, I am too.” Your tears continue to flow, now for an entirely different reason. You grab Bucky and try to relay all the passion and love you have for him as you kiss him. When you both need a second to breathe, you can’t help but smile against his lips.

“I love you too, Bucky. I always will,” Bucky doesn’t realize his tears escaped until he feels your thumbs wipe them off his cheeks. “I am more than ready if that’s even possible. So when you want to ask me, I’ll say yes.” Bucky shifts off the couch, getting down on one knee as you grab hold of his free hand. 

“Y/N, will you…” before Bucky can finish his sentence, your phone buzzes with an obscenely loud ringtone. Running to grab it from your purse, you roll your eyes as you answer.

“Sam, we’re a little busy right now,” Bucky groans loud enough for Sam to hear. You giggle at Bucky’s exasperation and Sam cuts in.

“He finally asked you! Oh this is great, we can start -” Bucky pries your phone from your hand.

“Unless the world is ending again, do not call either of us again, Samuel!” he yells. Bucky hangs up and shoves it back in your purse. You cackle when he practically chucks it in your shared bedroom before scooping you up in his arms. 

You turn your head and look up to see him smiling down at you. “It is happy,” you wipe your eyes trying to stop the tears from falling, “these are happy tears.” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh a little more, he loved these little things about you, like the way you always cried when watching movies, the way you always laugh at someone's jokes even if they aren't even remotely funny, the way you will always make sure to have his favourite snacks when you invite him over, but especially the way you make him feel. He had spent his whole life waiting to feel this way with someone, and with everything that has happened to him he really didn't think he would ever get the chance. You felt the same way towards him, you’d only been dating for a few months but you truly loved him. You just hadn’t been able to bring yourself to say the three words to him, part of you was scared he wouldn’t say it back.

You managed to get through the last part of the movie only crying a couple times before the credits started rolling. You hadn’t realised how late it had gotten before you saw the time on your phone, Bucky had stayed over a few times in your apartment and you loved having him there, you felt safe with him beside you but sometimes the tiny voice in the back of your mind convinced you things would go wrong, tonight you decided you weren’t going to listen to that voice. 

“You wanna stay tonight?” you asked hesitantly, what if he said no? 

“Course I do doll, if you’re okay with it?”

“Always.” you shoot a smile up at him to show you were truly happy for him to stay over. 

“I’ll be through in a minute, I just need to wash my face okay?” you say as you stand up and start walking towards the bathroom. 

“Okay, doll.” When you get to your bedroom you see Bucky in the middle of taking his pants down, you couldn’t deny the physical attraction you had for him, you even craved his touch but you weren’t ready to do that with him. Not yet. 

“I put a toothbrush beside the sink for you.”

“Thank you,” Bucky comes over to you and brings his lips to your forehead for a soft kiss, “I’ll just be a minute.” You nod your head in reply and begin to change into your pyjamas. You opted for a thin shorts and t-shirt set, remembering last time Bucky stayed over and your bed became way too warm, he was like a walking heater. 

“Cute pj’s.” 

“It’s just plain shorts and a shirt Buck.” you say back with a smile on your face.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “Well, I think you look very cute,” you feel your cheeks flush as he says it. He pulls away and climbs into the right side of the bed, knowing you prefer the left side and pats the space beside him. “You comin doll?” You climb in beside him and practically melt into his touch. 

He brings his face down to yours and leans in for a kiss, a slow, deep kiss and you lean into it, kissing him back. He moves his fingers up to your arm and starts to trail his fingers in circles over it, slowly moving to your chest, his lips following the same direction. You could tell what he wanted to do but you weren't ready for it, it took a second for you to say the words that were racing through your brain, “Wait Bucky, stop.” Your words came out a lot softer than you meant them to, you were almost scared he wouldn’t listen, but he backs away from you instantly and looks up to see your eyes becoming glossy. 

“What's wrong? Are you okay?” You could see the concern in his eyes and you hated yourself for making him worry. You hated yourself for not being able to give him what he wanted, you knew he deserved a girlfriend who could make him feel good. 

“I’m fine, but um,” you pause and take a breath before continuing “can we just cuddle tonight?” your voice was just as soft as before, and he could tell.

His eyes softened at your question, “Yeah baby, of course.” He lies back down and pulls you gently next to him. You lay your head down on his chest and get comfortable, he can feel the deep sigh of relief you take.

A couple minutes of silence pass before you can bring yourself to speak, and all you can manage is “I’m sorry.”

“Y/n, I promise, you have nothing to be sorry for. We don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to do, okay?” You try to answer him but you can’t find any words so you just nod against his chest. He rubs his hand gently over your arm trying to comfort you, the most important thing to him was that the girl he loved felt safe with him and he hoped you knew that. You had to know that right? That he loved you? 

You wanted to thank him for understanding and for not forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do but you couldn’t. Not without telling him about what happened to you, and you weren't ready to do that yet. You desperately wanted to tell him you loved him, to say those three words to him but the little voice in the back of your mind has once again taken control. He wouldn’t love you back, you know he wouldn’t and it would ruin everything. 

You try to push those thoughts far out of your mind and let sleep take over. 

You're not sure when you managed to fall asleep but when you woke up the space beside you was empty, he left? Did you scare him away? That thought doesn’t last long because you hear a bang in the kitchen and run through to find Bucky and the floor covered in waffle batter. 

You try to hide your giggles and ask if he’s okay but you nearly double over from laughing so hard. You finally manage to string together a sentence, “What happened in here?” 

Bucky did not find the batter spilling that funny but when he saw you laughing over it his heart melted, and he joined you in laughing. “Okay. This was not my fault” he says looking around him.

“Really? You raise your eyebrows and sport a grin on your face, “So who’s fault would it be?” 

“Well..” he pauses trying to think of an excuse but fails, “It was an accident” you walk over to him, looking out for the batter on the way, still laughing at the situation. 

“I suppose I can forgive you this time, but, only if you go change so I can hug you” 

“Just as soon as I clean this up, doll” He goes to grab the paper towels but you get there first.

“I will clean it up, you,” you point towards him “go get changed.” 

“Okay finee,” He sighs, “I will be right back.” 

It doesn’t take long to clean up and once you're finished you notice 3 cooked waffles beside the cooker, they must have been the only ones who survived Bucky’s awful cooking. Behind the waffles are tons of toppings, honey, whipped cream, strawberries and he even had grapes cut up for you, which were your favourite topping. It was unlike him to make breakfast, he would normally insist you go out because of this very reason, it normally ended up in something being broken or burnt. 

“So Chef Barnes, what made you decide to cook breakfast today?” you ask as he strolls back into the kitchen in a much cleaner state. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder. 

“Just wanted to treat my girl, sorry it didn’t go to plan” you can hear sadness in his voice as he speaks. 

“Hey, we got 3 perfectly good waffles here, and you know what they say.” He turns his head to you, his brows furrowed together, you sense his confusion and continue. “Don’t cry over spilt waffle batter.” You both laugh at your words. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the phrase, doll.” 

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure it is,” you tease back. “How ‘bout we try these waffles? I’m looking forward to seeing how much your cooking skills have improved.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high, but they look kind of okay?” His words slow down as he lifts the waffles up and inspects them. You peck his cheek quickly and lift the toppings off the counter.

“Come on, let’s do a taste test” You move to the table and lay out the toppings whilst Bucky brings over the waffles and orange juice. You both top your waffles, you choose grapes and whipped cream, and Bucky chooses honey, strawberries and cream. Bucky was almost burning a hole in your soul with how hard he was watching you take your first bite, so you decided to tease him. You purposefully make no facial expressions as you finish the bite. 

“So, where did you find the recipe for the waffles?” 

His eyes slightly squint together, “I got Sam to send me one,” You just nod. “Are they bad? I can make you something else if you want, well, not make I've had enough of the kitchen today.”

You finally break character and let out a huge giggle, “I’m just kidding, Buck. They taste really good.” He looks at you and you can tell he’s surprised, not quite believing you. “Really! Try it.” You nod towards his plate.

He takes a bite and chews slowly, almost scared of his own cooking skills before a smirk creeps onto his face. “You know what, I don’t think I’ll retire my chefs hat quite yet.” 

“As long as you promise to let me know next time, so I can have the fire extinguisher on standby.” The rest of breakfast went just like that, teasing each other, laughing together, everything felt good again. 

Bucky couldn’t stay with you for much longer that day, he had to go to the compound and meet Sam for training and preparation for a mission they had planned this week. You were sad he had to go but you knew it was important, plus it gave you time to go into work for a bit and check everything was okay with your store. You took a step back from working a couple years ago when things got a little too much, and thankfully you had great employees who could manage most of the workload without you, but as the owner you still had a lot to manage. Which is why you decided to go in today, you ended up serving customers and you enjoyed it. You didn’t think you would ever feel okay enough to work in the front again, things were really looking up for you. You worked until close and decided to stay longer to catch up on the paperwork you originally came to do until around 9pm when Bucky texts you. 

Buck

Hey doll, you alright? Sorry I’ve not been near my phone all day

You

I’m good! Miss you though :( 

Buck

I miss you too! Have you eaten yet? 

You 

No, I’ve been at the store all day, you? 

Buck 

I’ll be done here in like 30 minutes, want me to bring dinner around? 

You 

I would love that 😚

Buck 

See you soon, doll 

You finish the folder you are working on and head home, arriving just a few minutes before Bucky. 

“How many people are we feeding Buck?” you tease. He’s balancing 3 bags of food in his arms when he walks in. 

“I may or may not have gone a tad overboard, butttt,” he trails off as he puts the bags down and digs through one of them, “I got your favourite pasta.” He pulls a box out of the bag and holds it up. 

Your eyes light up at the box and the biggest smile appears on your face which makes Bucky’s heart melt. “Thank you,” you kiss his cheek, “you’re the best.” 

You both plate your food up and sit at the table to eat. Bucky tells you all about the ways Sam annoyed him today, even though you know they’re secretly best friends. You told him all about your day, even though you felt like it was pretty boring he listened to every word.

Before you know it, it was late again, and just like the night before you ask Bucky to stay over but his response is different tonight.

“Do you want me to?” His voice was smaller than usual, like it was lined with doubt. 

You did want him to stay, you hoped he knew that. “I do Buck, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but Bucky could hear it. 

“I do, I swear I do,” he goes silent for a few seconds before he finds the words he’s trying to say. “Do you feel safe with me?” His question catches you off guard, so off guard that it takes you a minute to process it. 

“I do Bucky.” 

“I promise I would never hurt you, and I’m really sorry for last night, I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, and you being safe is the most important thing for me.” You could feel tears starting to form and take a deep breath to try and stop them. The thing was they weren't sad tears, they weren't happy tears either, but they were because you believed every single word Bucky had said to you, you did feel safe with him, you truly believed he would never hurt you, and you loved him.

Before you say anything to him you pull him in for a hug, he wraps his arms around you tightly and you can both tell neither of you want to let go, but you force yourself to. You had been debating with yourself for weeks on whether you could open up to him but tonight you had no doubts, you trusted him fully and finally felt ready to tell him. 

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I mean it wasn’t your fault, and it’s not that I didn’t want to, I’m just not ready for that yet” You’re looking at him as you speak trying to sense how he is feeling, but all you can see in his eyes are care and concern for you. Seeing that he cares for you pushes you to keep going. “Can you promise not to judge me if I tell you something ?” You knew he wouldn’t but you still felt the need to ask.

“Doll, I would never, I promise. Listen, if you want to tell me this you can but do not feel like you have to okay? It’s your choice, and whenever you’re ready to talk I will listen to you. Always.” What he really wanted to say was that he loved you but he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

You nod your head as he speaks to you, but find yourself looking down before you continue speaking. “There was this man, he’d been coming into the store a lot and he would always chat to me, he seemed like a really nice guy. He would always ask how I was and how my day was going. I even started to like him.” Your breathing starts to quicken and you try to keep yourself calm but you felt like you were reliving what happened and it scared you.

“Take your time, Y/n. Breathe, it’s okay”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, it’s okay, take your time, take a break if you need to.” 

You shake your head when he suggests taking a break, you knew if you stopped you wouldn’t be able to start again. You lower your head down to where your hands are playing with each other, and try and catch your breath before speaking again.

“It was just a normal day, he came in, in the morning and we spoke like usual. It wasn’t until I was walking home that I saw him again. It was really dark out and I thought someone was following me, I felt like I was being watched and then he appeared on the other side of the street. I feel so stupid for it now but I was relieved, it was someone I sort of knew so when he offered to walk me home I said yes, I thought that was better than walking alone in the dark.” 

You were trying so hard to stop the tears leaving your eyes but it felt impossible, you weren't just sad over reliving what happened but you were angry, at him and at yourself. If you had just made a different choice that night everything would have been different.

“Everything was fine for a few minutes, then he started putting his arm around me and I asked him nicely to move it, but instead of moving it away he moved it lower. I kept asking him to stop but he wouldn’t, he just kept touching me. I tried to get away from him but he pulled me into an alley and pinned me against the wall.”

You still hadn’t looked back up at Bucky so you had no idea how he was reacting to this, you just hoped he wouldn’t hate you after or look at you any different. What you couldn’t see was that Bucky was holding back his tears, he had an idea of what you were going to say - even though he’d hoped he was wrong -  and with every word you said he got sadder, but he knew this wasn’t the time for him to be upset, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 

“I told him no, I told him I didn’t want it but he kept saying I didn’t know what I wanted and that he would show me, I wanted to scream but it was like my voice was trapped, I was so scared but there was nothing I could do stop him, I swear I tried to fight him. He just wouldn't stop.” The words were spilling out of you at this point, you couldn’t control them. “He didn’t stop until he'd decided he'd had enough and then he just walked away like he did nothing wrong, like everything was fine. I ran home and it hadn’t really set in what had happened, it didn’t until the next day when I was back at work and he came in again acting nice again, like the night before never happened. That’s when I realised it was wrong, that it was beating me up inside but he was fine. That’s why I took a step back from work, I haven't seen him since that day.” This was when you looked up at Bucky, you could see the tears forming on his eyelashes but he wasn’t letting them run, he looked angry, not at you of course but your brain convinced you he was. You panicked at the thought of that, maybe he believed it was your fault? Your breathing started to speed up and you could feel your heart beat faster and faster like it was going to jump out your chest, and you suddenly felt like you had to defend yourself for what happened.

“I know I probably shouldn’t have been walking home alone, especially in the dark, and I know I must have led him on at some point, maybe when he came into work or on the walk home or maybe I said-” before you can blame yourself anymore Bucky stops you. He wanted to let you talk, he wanted to listen like he said he would but he could not let you blame yourself for this. He so badly wanted to reach out and physically comfort you but he didn’t want to panic you more.

“Y/n, you are not to blame for what happened to you, this is not on you, it’s on the guy who assaulted you, and it never should have happened.” Bucky is the first person you’ve told about this so hearing these words felt like a weight was being lifted off of you. He believed you. He didn’t blame you for it. “Can I hug you?” 

You nod your head, you missed the safe feeling you got when he held you in his arms. “It’s not your fault this happened. I’m here for you, okay? We can just stay like this all night if you want, whatever you need.”

You did want that, it was everything you wanted and needed, to be held by the one person who made you feel safe and loved. “Thank you Bucky.”

“It’s okay doll, no need to thank me” He brings his head down to yours and softly kisses your forehead. “It’s okay.” That’s how the rest of the night went, cuddled up on the couch until you both fell asleep. 

When you woke up the next morning Bucky was still asleep, you were still in his arms but you didn’t make any effort to move, this was the place you needed to be in right now. You’re not sure how long you lay there but soon Bucky starts to move beside you. 

You turn to him “Hi.” His eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to the daylight. 

“Hi.” You both let out a small chuckle at how you have woken up. “Have you been up long?” 

“No, sorry for falling asleep on you.” You go to sit yourself up only now realising you were probably squishing him considering your couch wasn’t that big but he gently pulls you back down beside him. 

“Don’t be sorry, I like laying like this” Without realising you melt into his touch, letting his arms gather round you. “Have you got any plans today?” 

Your brows furrow for a second as you try and remember if you had anything planned today, when you’re confident you don't you shake your head. “Do you have to go into the compound today?” 

“Nope. We finished all the prep yesterday, we could do something if you want?”

“Hmm” you pretend to weigh out your options but you have no doubts in saying yes, “I suppose we could do something.” 

“You’re funny,” he teases before an idea pops into his head which gets him excited. “Do you remember that park you were telling me about, with the dog cafe?” Your eyes immediately perk up at the mention of the dog cafe, ever since you saw it online a couple weeks ago you had wanted to go.  

“Yes!”

“You up for going? We can take my bike and go for a drive by the beach after if you want.”

“You know I’ll never say no to going out on your bike.” The first time you went on Bucky’s bike you were terrified but it ended up being some of the most fun you’d had in a long time, and now you jamp at the chance to go on it.

“I swear you love that thing more than me.” he said as he chuckled beside you. 

You laugh at what he says but in your mind you’re thinking that you honestly didn’t think you could love anything or anyone more than him. 

“As much as I’m loving cuddling with you baby, I need a shower.” 

“5 more minutes?” you look up at him and pout your lips a little. 

“I will always say yes to more cuddles.” 

5 minutes turns into 30 but you finally get up and showered, and head out to the cafe. It was everything you could’ve hoped for, you and Bucky had the biggest smiles on your faces the whole time. You were smitten over all the puppies, and so was Bucky, although he was more in love with the owner's little white cat who wouldn’t leave his side. Not that he was complaining, you think that was his favourite part. 

After the cafe Bucky takes you on a ride around the city, it must’ve been for a few hours, making different stops whenever something seemed interesting enough. The final stop you made was the beach, it was a little more into the country so there was a lot less people and noise. You made it just in time for the sun beginning to set, you and Bucky are both leaning against his bike, Bucky has his left arm wrapped around you and you have your head up against his shoulder. It was peaceful, mostly silent, both of you just watching the waves crash against each other. 

You were happy, Bucky was happy, everything was good. Bucky should be looking at the view but he can’t take his eyes off of you, the way your hair is blowing slightly in the wind and the slight curve in your lips every time you see a wave crashing against the sand. He decides he can’t hold it in anymore and breaks the silence. “Y/n?” 

“Hmm?” you lift your head away from him a little so you can see him.

“I love you.” you freeze for a second, in complete shock over his words and he notices so continues speaking, “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know I really love you.” 

“Bucky” You turn your whole body towards him now and lift your feet up a little so you’re level with him. “I love you.”

This was the moment you had been waiting for, you finally said the three words you had been wanting to say. It was perfect, better than you expected, it’s how it always looks in the movies, on a beach at sunset, which some would say is cringy but for you it was perfect. 

From that day your relationship only got better, you missed Bucky when he was away on missions but you’ve started going into the store a few days a week now which helped pass the time. You were still mostly working from home where you felt safer but things were really good. Bucky had helped you through a lot in the last couple months, he supported you through all the times you felt responsible for what happened to you and reassured you that it was not your fault in the slightest. When you had random days where life was just a little bit harder he reassured you that it was okay to have those bad days, and that he was there for you, and that he loved you more than life itself. 

One thing that hadn’t changed in the past couple of months was your sexual relationship with Bucky, you’d made it clear that night that you weren’t ready for anything more to happen and he was okay with that. The truth was he would wait as long as you wanted or needed before doing anything more, he understood why you aren’t ready and respected you. As  much as he likes to pretend he isn't, he actually is a huge cuddle addict, every night he comes home he rushes to hug you and doesn’t want to let go all night. Bucky still had his own apartment but he stayed at yours most nights, it wasn’t official but he had basically moved in, his things had filled up the empty spaces you once had and his own apartment was pretty bare now. 

It had been a normal day up until now, you and Bucky were laying in bed, but you felt different tonight, you’re not sure what shifted but you wanted to take things further. You bring your lips to his neck and whisper into his ear. “I love you.”

Bucky lets out a breathy chuckle as you speak, “I love you too baby.”

You bring your lips closer and place soft little kisses over his neck, whilst you run your fingers through his hair. “That feels nice..” He can feel your smile against his skin, which causes his cheeks to fill with blush. You were craving his touch and you knew he wouldn’t do anything without your permission so you asked for what you wanted, what you needed. 

“Bucky, touch me.” You see his eyes widen at your words, he was slightly surprised. 

“You sure?” You nod but he needs more, “I need words, baby.”

You can’t help the grin starting to form at the thought of being touched by Bucky, “Please touch me.” 

He turns his body around and guides you to lay flat. “You look so pretty.” You blush at his compliments, he notices and decides to keep going. First kissing your neck, “My pretty girl,” he moves lower, kissing your shoulder, and brings his left hand up to your breast. His cold fingers ghost your nipple through your thin shirt which makes you moan quietly, almost a whisper but he heard it. “Feel good baby?” You could feel the heat racing through you, following his line of kisses. 

As you open your mouth to answer he twists your nipple between his two fingers, you bite your bottom lip trying to stifle the moan trying to escape your mouth. “You don’t have to be quiet, I wanna hear how good you feel.” Bucky lifts your shirt up, exposing your breasts, the cold air hits you but not as hard as his cold fingers do. He continues playing with your nipple with his left arm and brings his mouth to the other. 

“Fuckk, that feels so good Bucky..” You weren’t sure if you were making much sense at this point. “Please Buck- Please.” It was like every bit of you was more sensitive than ever, every time his lips touched you it sent a shiver down your spine. You lift your hips up a little hoping to get some friction against your aching core. You feel his cock through his sweatpants, which made you even more excited. 

“What do you want me to do, baby?” He smirks as you look back at him, he knows what you want but he wasn’t going to do it until you asked. You both loved and hated the way he was teasing you, it made you feel so good but you needed more. 

You wrap your hand around his and bring it down to your shorts, “Please touch me Bucky.” You pull your hand away from him and he starts to pull your shorts and panties away from you. His fingers slightly graze your clit which makes you whimper under him, “Fuckk.” 

He runs his fingers up your folds a couple times, you were already so wet and he’d hardly touched you. He starts to run circles over your clit, your head falling back at the feeling, “Like that?” You could practically hear his smirk.

“Yes.. Bucky, keep- Fuck. Keep doing that.” His touch was sending you nearer and nearer to your climax, you didn’t know if it was because you were touch starved or because he was just that good but oh my god it felt amazing. He brings his other hand down and starts to tease your pussy, he drops a ball of spit down onto you and rubs it over his fingers and around your opening. He slowly pushes two of his fingers into you, you go to bite your lip to try and hide your moaning but remember back to him saying he wants to hear you.

It’s almost like he could read your mind, “Fuck baby, you sound so sexy.. squeezing around my fingers so tight.. Fuck.. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock” Your pussy clenches around his fingers at the mention of him being inside you, pushing you closer towards your orgasm.

“Oh. My. God. Bucky, I’m gonna come.” You manage to string together your sentence through your shaky breaths. No one, not even yourself, had made you cum this quickly before. 

“Go on Baby, come for me.” He speeds up his fingers rubbing your clit, which along with his words makes you completely let go and your orgasm rushes through you. 

“Fuckk..” Bucky continues to rub your clit but slows down as you come down from your high, whispering praise into your ears.

“You okay? You did so good.” You’re still catching your breath so you just nod. He moves to cuddle you a bit but you stop him, he’s confused for a second but then sees the smirk on your face. “What?” he teases. Even though you had just come you were still craving more. 

“Buckyy..” you pause for a second, the shyness coming back. “I want more..” Before he can respond, your leg brushes against his cock and he moans at the sensation. 

“Fuck, Baby. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

“Show me?” you ask with a smirk. That was all Bucky needed to hear, he starts to take off his sweatpants, you see his cock hit his stomach as his pants fall and a slight whimper leaves your lips. 

“You ready baby?” 

“Please, I want you to fuck me” He presses his cock against your clit and your hips buck up at the feeling. He slides his cock down your folds gathering your wetness, before pushing just the tip in slightly.

He notices your breath hitch and stills himself, “You okay?” 

“Yes.. Go slow please.” he was so much bigger than you had ever had before and even with how wet you were you had to adjust. 

“Okay baby.” He slowly edges himself in more, “Fuckk.. You’re so tight, squeezing my cock so good baby.” His praise was making your pussy squeeze down harder onto him. 

He was fully in you now and he started to thrust in and out, slow at first but gathering speed quickly. “Fuckk.. Bucky. That feels so- so good” 

“Yeah baby?” He puts his hands on your hips and keeps thrusting into you, one thrust deeper than the rest hits that special spot inside of you, your eyes roll back and you gasp at the new sensation. 

“F..Fuck.” You can’t manage to speak properly with how good Bucky is making you feel, you were practically panting at this point and you could feel your orgasm coming towards you. You try to tell Bucky how close you are but you can’t get out the words. 

Bucky notices and is worried he’s hurting you or making you uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” 

You nod your head slightly but he starts to slow down and you can feel him start to pull out slightly. “Buc- Bucky..” You wrap your legs around him and pull him back towards you, “I’m Okay.. Just please.. I- I’m so close. Please.” 

Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing so tightly it makes it harder for him to slide in and out, you bring your fingers down to your clit and rub circles over it softly. The sight of seeing you touch yourself made Bucky’s cock throb inside of you. “Fuckk. Baby.. I’m not gonna last long seeing you like this,” You were both so close to coming, “So pretty taking my cock like this, baby.” 

He hits that spot again and you feel the band in your stomach snap, “Bucky.. I’m co- I’m coming. Fuck. I’m coming.” 

“Fuckk! Baby.” He groans out as his come shoots inside you, coating your pussy. He slows his movements, helping you come down from your highs, before carefully bringing himself to lay down beside you. You can feel the mixture of both your juices trail out of you, making a mess of your thighs and sheets but you didn’t care at this point.

“You doing okay?” Bucky whispers softly in your ear. You turn to him with a smile on your face and nod. 

“That was..” you can’t find the words to describe how he made you feel. “Thank you Bucky” It may have come across to Bucky that you were just thanking him for making you feel good but it wasn’t just that, you were thanking him for making you feel safe and loved and for waiting until you were ready. 

Bucky chuckles a little at how lost for words you are, “Thank you for trusting me,” He kisses your forehead and pulls you closer towards him, wrapping his arms around you, “I love you” 

“I love you more.” The three words you'd once been so scared to say were now one of the things you said most, Bucky truly was your love. 

“I don’t think that’s possible, baby.”