#28on28

You smiled when he walked in. The bell on the door to the diner rang, alerting his presence to the waitress behind the counter. She nodded and pointed back to the booth where you were seated after he presumably asked if you were here or not already. It was unusually busy for a Tuesday morning, but you weren't one to break routine, and breakfast with Bucky was a very important part of that routine.

"I didn't see you at our booth so I got worried."

You were about to respond when he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You gasped and quickly looked down at your menu, even though you had already decided on your usual.

Bucky's never done that before. He typically plops down in the booth seat across from you and peruses the menu, already complaining about Sam or work or anything really. He's very whiny before he has caffeine.

Bucky's doing a lot of complaining now, actually. It takes him a moment to realize you're not listening, that you haven't even looked at him since he sat down.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

You gulp and look up at him, look around the room feeling like there's eyes on you everywhere.

And now Bucky's got that look on his face, like there's a threat he needs to neutralize. Even if that threat is your morning being not so great. He'd do anything to fix it.

"You kissed me."

Bucky's head tilts to the side.

"You're my girl, of course I kissed you. Am I not allowed to kiss you?"

He wasn't mad, just unsure if he crossed a line. He didn't, not really. It's just...

"There's so many people here, Bucky."

"I can see that, sweetheart."

Your face feels hot in your hands.

"Bucky," you whine.

He slips out of his side of the booth and into yours. His hand curls around your waist and even this is breaking new ground for the two of you.

"I couldn't help but give you a kiss 'cause I was so damn excited to see my best girl this morning. Is that okay, sweetheart?"

If Bucky didn't have superhuman hearing he might've missed the "yes" mumbled through your hands.

"And if it's alright with you, I'd like to give you one every single morning."

You turn into his chest, hiding there for now until you can get used to the idea of Bucky calling you his best girl, of getting the sweetest of kisses from him every morning the two of you share together.

You finish wiping down your section of the bar and yell to your manager in his office that you're done for the night. Bucky waits patiently for you to collect your tips and grab your bag from the break room.

"You don't need to walk me home, Bucky."

"Of course I do. You know how this neighborhood is."

"I can handle myself," you protest as Bucky drapes his leather jacket around your shoulders. It's not cold really but the early rain left a chill in the air.

"What are you gonna do when I actually get a boyfriend who'll walk me home? Wait around at the bar to make sure he does it right?"

"Maybe."

"Bucky. You need to get laid, you're too stressed out," Bucky opens his mouth to speak but your hand lifts to cut him off. "Which, like, I get it. It comes with the territory. But a little stress relief might bring your doomsday clock down a minute."

"What about you then, sweetheart?"

"What about me?"

Bucky's quiet for the entire last block of the walk to your apartment building. You don't want an answer to that question. It's so tempting to know if he feels the same way you have since you made him his first drink. And all the other drinks you make that he keeps coming back for even though he can't get drunk, not anymore.

He stops you at the steps to your building.

"Bucky?" You can see the apprehension on his face. Like he knows the answer to your question will change things. Maybe his lack of an answer already has.

"Do you want to come up?"

---

You're pouring a drink, this time for yourself now that you're off the clock as Bucky toes off his shoes in your entryway. He's been in your modest apartment before but this time feels different. It feels awkward. Bucky sits on your couch like he's afraid of dirtying it and you can't take it anymore.

You throw back your drink in one go and sit next to Bucky on the couch.

"Barnes."

He doesn't say a word, just looks at you. His jacket is on your kitchen table, the muscles of his arms bulge under his t-shirt. Even the black metal of his left arm looks like it's trying to break free from the thin cotton surrounding it.

"Can I?"

Your hand coasts up his jean clad thigh where it's pressed up against yours. His length is clearly outlined against his zipper and the sight sends a thrill through you, running hot down your spine.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to-"

"I know. But I want to."

Bucky's eyes flutter shut and he groans when you palm his dick over his pants. The weight of him against your hand feels so good, you can't waste another second without seeing it.

You feel Bucky's eyes on you as you pull down his zipper and slide his dick out.

"Fuck. You've been holding out on me, Barnes."

Bucky sputters about to say something about your teasing him again, but you don't give him a chance. Your hand is lightly squeezing around his length, your fingers barely touching. His angry, red tip is leaking, running down to meet your grip.

"So big, Barnes. This why you were holding out on getting your rocks off? Worried you might scare some poor dame?"

You tease him with more light strokes, getting him nice and wet with the precum oozing from him. The urge to get a taste is strong but with the way Bucky's legs are shaking, you don't want to overwhelm the poor man.

"This feel good?"

You're close, practically in his ear as you stroke him with your right hand.

"Y-yes. So good."

You hum in content and pick up your pace, making sure to give that spot under his head an extra tight squeeze.

Bucky's groans are getting louder, rattling through you like the rumble of an oncoming freight train.

You stop your ministrations only for a moment to drop a long line of spit on his dick, coating his length and easing your fast paced glide up and down. The slick sounds make your pussy pulse, wondering how he'd sound pumping into your warm, wet channel instead.

"Doing so well for me, Buck. You gonna come? Give me that big load? I want it, Bucky."

Bucky comes suddenly with a shout, spurting white hot all the way up his black tee.

"Oh fuck."

You pump him a few more times, your hand coated in his spunk that's still, somehow, dribbling out.

"Oh fuck is right," you release him, lifting a finger to your lips to sample his flavor. "So fucking good, baby."

Bucky's head is thrown back on the couch, his breathing beginning to come back to normal. He watches you as you clean your hand with your tongue, making sure to get every last drop.

"Feel better, Bucky?"

"Not until you kiss me."

"Ow!"

"Would you sit still? I've never heard someone complain so much in one day."

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you slipped the hooked needle through Six's arm. The gash running up his forearm is still oozing slightly so you're trying to move quickly.

"Next time try not to get kidnapped then, okay?"

"Oh sure, I'll tell the guys who set us up to be more considerate. Maybe they'll think twice about tossing me in the back of a moving van."

Your last tug on the string is maybe a little harsher than it should've been if Six's wince and low growl is anything to go by.

"I told you to stay put. You were safe at the docks."

You huffed and rolled your eyes as you packaged the first aid kit back up and stored it away under the kitchen sink.

"It was my mission too, asshole."

"Hey."

Six reaches for you with his good arm before you can walk away, hide in the bedroom of the safe house you two are stuck in until your pick up comes.

Thoughts of what happened in that van, what you had to do to defend yourself swim through your head. You trained for years on how to keep yourself safe in a situation like that, only to freeze, to let fear consume you in those few short moments. You were almost taken, almost jeopardized the whole mission and got Six hurt in the process. And you felt stupid for not listening to him in the first place.

"You're right. I should've taken you with me."

"No, I-"

"The safest place in the world for you," Six tugs gently on your hand, "is right here with me."

You look up from his bandaged up arm to the multitude of cuts and bruises marring his handsome face.

A sob catches in your throat but you won't le7t it free, you can't. You're supposed to be stronger than this.

But he's right. He makes you feel safe. Even if staying with him is more dangerous, nothing feels better than being wrapped up in his arms. Like you are right now.

"I almost lost you."

Six tightens his grip around your waist and buries his head in your neck.

"We really need to stop working together."

His goatee tickles your skin when he smiles.

"You know I'm never letting you out of my sight again, right?"

Oral: Lloyd

I want to cockwarm him while he works. Just always at his feet with his cock in my mouth 🥰

Vag: dark!nomad!Steve

Three words. Breed me, daddy.

Anal: Freezy

Chase kink activated. No prep. Just him in those rubber gloves, and apron. Maybe if I'm good he'll keep me around and I can have all the popsicles I want 😌 Sure I'm chained to the freezer in the back of his truck, but I've never been a fan of Summer.

As for the list,

Go clothes shopping with: Lloyd

Just look at him! That man knows how to dress! 😂

Go to Ikea with: Freezy

No reason in particular other than I'd like to know if he likes the Swedish meatballs.

Go grocery shopping with: dark!nomad!Steve

He can tell me exactly what he wants with the roast I'll be making for dinner. Because for at least tonight he wants a good little housewife to take care of him.