It was supposed to be two easy days of cat-sitting Alpine. Just like you always had every month. You cat-sit her and you earn two hundred at the end. It was all great doing this for him, especially for you. Sure it never quelled the tiny (huge) crush you had for the man but it was helpful cash for you. Plus, he confessed to you after six months of doing this that it did get lonely for him at times so, you were happy he considered you somewhat as a friend. And that he trusted you to some degree.

You knew his secret. He’s a vampire and that his monthly vacations were to quell his thirst. It wasn’t hard for you to figure all of this out and the way you found out never made sense to him, but you knew his soul. He knew yours.

It was just…you never expected to see him at his front door in the middle of the night, a whole day early from his bloody trip, staggering while he’s on his knees as blood was coated his body and clothes. The redness seeped into his floors. A tiny puddle of red slowly emerged as the darkness swallowed the color deeper. His face was flushed and beaten, his eyes barely opening.

“Oh my god.” You choked out.

You carefully placed Alpine down on the couch and rushed over to him, placing tender hands on his forehead, “What happened, Bucky?”

Bucky, with whatever strength he had left, tried to push you away from him but you stayed put, your clean hands now painted with his blood. He mumbled something incoherent as his head spinned and spinned. The air was getting dazier and thicker for him. The figure of you blurry.

“Bucky?”

He shut his eyes to wallow the pain. “You need,” He winced, trying to even his breathing as he held onto his stomach, “You need to go.”

You shook your head, inching yourself closer to him to inspect how badly the bruises on his face were before your eyes worriedly searched his body. You then used your hands to pat around and when you found the wound spot, you quickly tore off your sweatshirt. Luckily you wore a tank top underneath.

Bucky gazed upon you and started shaking his head, “Please, go. You don’t need to do this for me.”

“Are you kidding me?” You furrowed your brows as you gently moved his hands away from the wound and wrapped your sweatshirt to keep the blood from oozing out more, “Bucky, I’m your friend.”

“You’re my cat sitter.”

“You’re only saying that now cause I’m helping you.”

You disregarded how his blood was on your hands, on your favorite sweatshirt. At this point, it didn’t matter to you. This man single handedly saved your life with the money he gave you every month and to think you’ll just stand around without helping him was bullshit to you.

With quick succession, you wrapped a careful arm under his arms and hoisted him so he was able to lean on you somewhat despite his taller height. You watched him intently to see what he needed, what his face was like, what medical attention he needed.

You couldn’t let him bleed out like this even if you knew he was an immortal vampire.

Bucky stumbled a bit as you guys started to walk to the nearest bathroom. He would hiss as he moved, his face scrunched in such a way it made your heart break. His body was slumped on you mostly and you used whatever strength you had to carry this bigger man.

Pressing down on his wound, his mind still waving in and out, his eyes gazed upon your dizzy figure. “I’ll heal.” He mustered out but the way his grip tightened on you made his statement unbelievable.

“Self-healing or not, you need medical attention, Bucky.”

He frowned, mumbling, “No I don’t…”

“Whoever told you the lie that you don’t need it is a bullshitter. You’re not Batman. Just tell me what I need to do.”

You two managed to make it to the downstairs restroom. You quickly heated up a warm bath to wash him up and found some medical supplies from the sink’s cabinet. He stopped protesting against your help and let you shimmy him out of his clothes.

You pried your eyes away when you helped him take off his slacks, but you couldn’t help the disgusting urge to look at him exposed all the way. But you kept the boundaries in check, never looked below his lower half. He needed help whether he believed it or not.

The whiteness of the bathroom had splatters of the red on little spots. His clothes made the wall painted red, the doorknobs you opened were painted in the red. And when you ushered him in the hot water to wash off his blood, the water turned a lukewarm red quickly.

You cautiously cleaned the wound he had on his stomach, wiping the rest of his blood clean everywhere on his chiseled body. His erratic breaths soon turned quaint as he let you clean him. Your eyes stayed on his face to stop them from looking anywhere else on his body.

The only sounds in the restroom were the splashes of water and his occasional wince or hiss.

You were softly rubbing the bar of soap over his stomach where the wound. You absorbed every reaction from his face. His frown, his scrunched face, his brows furrowed. You took it all to see when the cleaning was too much. His eyes were shut the entire time, trying to keep the loopiness down.

“Doll…” He muttered.

You leaned in closer to hear him clearer, “Yeah?”

His hand slowly grasped your wrist and you gulped, your heart pittering. He opened his eyes, his head tilting so he could see you better. His eyes were low and dark as he moved your hand to his chest, metaciously watching your every breath, every move, every reaction.

“Thank you.”

You gave him a faint smile and ignored the way your stomach was flipping with this burning desire, “I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.”

“And you did.” Bucky jokes and the two of you sweetly chuckle but the moment falters when he hissed loudly, his head rolling back and his eyes back to being shut. “Fuck.”

“Here,” You pulled the drain from the tub fast, “Let’s put you in a robe so I can stitch your wound.”

You turned around to find one of his robes but his hand pulled you back roughly to the spot you sat at. Confused by his action, you looked at him to see him shake his head.

“I just want to rest now.”

Even though you were afraid the wound wouldn’t heal when you dragged him to his bedroom, he reassured you it was alright. (Though you still wrapped the wound with a bandage). You gave him a robe so he was able to sleep in some clothes rather than lay naked. Plus it was easier than dressing him knowing you were going to be face to face with his dick.

It eased your heart a little knowing that.

He fell asleep the minute he was covered in blankets and when his head hit the fluffy pillow of his. Little Alpine came strolling and took her place right next to him. She meowed while looking at you, as if telling you to come too in bed, but you told yourself no that’s delusional and you closed the door quietly so you could take a shower.

Yet you couldn’t sleep that night. Even after you took your shower and wore the silk black pajama Bucky gave you as a present. The second day was sleepless too. You took care of Alpine as usual but this time you waited by his door in case he needed something. By the third day where Bucky had rested like he was in a coma, you were growing restless with this urgent need bellowing in the bottom of your stomach. Combined that with your tired self, you were bitchy to yourself to say the least.

On the fourth night when you washed the pajama set (seeing how the clothes you were when he was bloody got bloodied, it was hard to wash off blood), you laid in the bedroom that Bucky claimed was yours while you were over cat-sitting. Sure you were extending your stay, but you were worried for him and if he wasn’t awake soon, you were sure he wouldn’t like to see his cat meowing and purring cause no one took care of her.

And for the first time in ages, you tried sleeping. You had your eyes shut tight and you snuggled with another pillow on the bed. There you pushed images of the beach, hiking, anything you would deem peaceful to help you sleep. But nothing worked because your random thoughts would shift to Bucky going down on you, biting you, grazing his fangs over your lips, him eating you out while you’re on your period—

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You moved your fingers to touch your lower lip and let out an annoyed huff when you realized you bit down hard, specks of blood started to drip. Frustrated, you went out of the bedroom and walked down the hallway to reach the grand staircase. You kept your hand on your mouth to stop the cut from flowing more blood.

You were six down from the stairs when you stopped, hearing footsteps from above.

“Doll?” His voice was raspy and low, maybe even a hint of sultry in it. “You’re still here?”

You whipped around to face him and the relief spread throughout. With your hand still covering your mouth, you nodded, “Of course I am,” You mumbled, “Someone had to take care of Alpine.”

He didn’t smile. But he smelled an intriguing aroma coming from you, the boxers he put on before leaving now tightening. He leveled his breathing as he started to make his slow descent towards you and you were pretty certain he was hunting you.

The way his eyes slanted and how dominating his presence was gave you this exciting feel in your core. Your thighs clenched when he stopped in front of you, one of his hands gently tugging your wrist to unwrap the gift you were beholding from him; your dripping blood.

“May I see it, love?”

You held back a whine as you nod, never looking away from his eyes. It seemed like his wounds and pain were healed. The bruise that was near his eye disappeared.

He moved your hands away from your bleeding lip. His eyes gazed upon your blood coated fingertip. He was trying hard to control himself. His jaw clenched as he reached his hand closer to your lips, peering down at you through his eyelashes.

“May I?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was beating fast as he glided his finger over your blood. Like he was a scientist, he sucked your blood off your finger and it was like tension rolled off of him. He towered over you and placed tender hands on your cheeks, gently pulling your face closer to his.

Both of your heads touched and you couldn’t deny how this situation made you feel.

“Do you know how long I wanted to taste you, doll?” His head tilt made you feel like he was taunting you, his words making your head turn into the thought of that, “Every damn month when you show up on my doorstep with that pretty little face of yours, your smell overwhelms me.”

You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips. Your body squirmed around, hips trying to reach him but he inched his lower half away.

“Did you know?” He asked, his warm breath clouding your senses as he turned you into mush.

“No.”

He breathed in deep. His thumb started to trace your cheek in delicacy as he stared at your face for a while. Relishing the small reactions you gave to his touch, his words.

“Would you give me the permission to taste you even more? Touch you where you want it?”

You gazed up at him with fast nods. Your body was heated with this lustful energy and you just wanted him now selfishly. Like all of the small dreams you had of him came true.

“Need you to use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes…please.”

His tongue glided across his lips at your words, your eyes concentrated on how they glistened after. The light of the moon fell perfectly on you both. His eyes bounced to your lips and to your eyes and when you nodded again to push him to the edge, his lips engulfed yours.

It was gentle. His hands moved to your hair, to your neck, to your face, anywhere that he could touch you. He started to guide you down so you two could sit on the wide staircase, comfortable enough than standing. He leaned back on the railing, the sensual kiss pursuing. He licked your lips and rolled you on top so you were straddling him.

He produced deep grunts when he tasted your blood and when your hip started to grind against his in a desperate manner. He felt your wetness soak his boxers, his dick erecting harder at that feeling.

You moaned when his tongue experimentally prodded against yours. He assumed from your reaction it was alright and his tongue met yours again, your hands combing through his hair for some form of grounding. His nails traced your back in a repeated pattern as he bucked his hips into yours and you moaned in surprise, breaking the kiss.

The both of you catched your breaths, your chest heaving. His spit combined with yours covered your mouth, the blood he went in search for gone. You gulped and was ready to kiss him back, but his face had gone to the crook of your neck. His fangs grazing your skin, earning him shuddery breaths and goosebumps from you.

He nibbled in different areas to find your sweet spot. He listened to your every reaction and when he finally found the spot, he began sucking, and placed his hands on your hips to help you grind against his crotch. He didn’t give you a hickey, no, with a test of his fangs, he bit into your neck, holding you still as you gasped out.

“Shit!” You muttered, your forehead laying on his.

He drank your blood slowly as he didn’t want you to pass out on him but fuck, he wanted you to get used to this. He couldn’t get enough of your blood. He groaned when it reached his tongue. It was hard for him to stop, especially when you moaned and whined next to his ear, urging him to keep doing it.

But he let go. His desperation was clear when he licked over the spot he bit into to swallow more of your blood. He looked over at his bite mark proudly, loving the way you were marked. With your blood covering his fangs and mouth, he looked up at you.

“How did it feel, love?”

You moaned, arms wrapped around his neck as you continued to grind on him.

“It felt good.”

“Yeah?” He slowed your grinding, wanting you to look at him for a moment. “I enjoyed it. Your taste fucking gives me life.” He planted a kiss on your cheek, pecking his lips to your jawline, chin, neck, before grazing your lips, coating yourself in your blood, “What else did you want me to do, huh?

You hummed as you tried to push down on his clothed dick again, but his hands held a firm grip on your hips. “Fuck, Bucky, please.” You whined desperately into his ear, earning yourself a deep chuckle. “This isn’t funny at all.”

“I need you to use your words, doll. I’m not gonna do anything else unless you give me permission.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“My pleasure.”

Your lips crashed onto his. This time it was passionate. He let his fangs graze your lips and every time you shuddered or moaned, he would hump against you. You tugged on his tongue and he hummed, his hands gripping on your hips tightly now.

He did the same to you, but he eased you down on your back, his knee spreading your legs open. He soon planted kisses all over your face and neck, his hands clasping your shirt so he could unbutton it. You watched him, seeing his hands expertly doing so.

You looked at the beautiful sight in front of you. With his beefy body on top, no shirt on, and the clear erection he was keeping in his boxers, you only got more wet. You wanted to clamp your thighs together but he knee kept spreading you apart.

Bucky took your shirt off and stared lustfully at your uncovered breasts. He started to massage them, giving you tiny peeks to see if this was pleasuring for you. When he got his answer, he licked the nipple and relished in the way you rolled your head back, your back arching at the sudden warm temperature.

He gave your boobs the attention they deserved. With one hand massaging the other or squeezing your nipple sometimes while he sucked and licked the other and then he would switch. You could only moan at the worship he was giving your body, your hands beginning to tug on his hair.

He sucked on one of your breasts before releasing it with a pop, circling his spit over your nipples. He glanced at your disheveled self, “Does this feel good, love?”

You groaned at the raspiness in his voice. Nodding, your face scrunched in pleasure, “It feels good, Bucky.”

“Finally responding to my questions, hm?” He nibbled on your ear, his hands dragging their way towards your shorts, teasingly tugging on the hems of it, “You know how to be good, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” You whined, “I know how to be good.”

Bucky grinned. With a slow taunt, he got rid of your shorts and placed them somewhere near. He dragged his fingers towards the outline of your panties, rubbing his thumb in a circle on the inside of your thighs. He hummed at your desperate pleas, leaning himself closer as he started to kiss your jawline.

His fingers, so close yet so far, grazed your pussy through your underwear and you whined, bucking your hips up to find his fingers. He gently tapped your cheek so you could open your eyes, and cupping your cheek so softly, he whispered, “I want you to stare at me while I finger you.”

Fuck.

You nodded, staring into his eyes that intently stared into yours. You couldn’t even watch his fingers take your panties off or watch his fingers barely miss your throbbing cunt. You wanted to look away from his eyes so you could grab his wrist and do the work instead, but his eyes held you in your place.

One finger found your clit and you quietly gasped, resisting yourself to flutter your eyes shut. His finger started to rub your clit. Your thighs clamped on his hand but he used his knee to widen your legs again.

The more he waited and teased, the more wet you got.

“Bucky, please—“

“Shhh,” His finger dipped to your entrance and you whined, trying to grind on his finger but he simply moved it away, “It’s okay, doll. You’ll get what you want soon enough. Just keep those precious eyes on me.”

His finger went back to your wet pussy and he gathered your slick, humming when he realized how wet you were for him. Tilting his head, he found your entrance and with one finger, he pushed his finger little by little, watching how your eyebrows bunched up together and much you wanted to look away but you kept your eyes on him, letting him soak in your pleasured expression.

He didn’t move his finger for quite some time, letting you grind helplessly on his finger to find the relief yourself. The sight alone had him leaking in boxers.

Then he started to pump his finger in and out, slowly, testing you. You moaned, your hands trying to find something to grasp on. The obscene and slick noises coming from your pussy and your moans were the only sounds around you guys.

Your hand grabbed onto the railing behind you. The intense staring was hot and it only made you want more of his fingers inside of you, pumping fast. You wanted him to find your release. Let him stare at you while you orgasm.

You moaned loudly when he started to pick up his pace, his other hand finding your breasts. He spit on them, using his spit like a lube as he massaged your boobs like he did before.

“Bucky.” You drawled out his name, mumbling cuss words under your breath, “Don’t stop, please.”

But like a tease he was, he pulled out his finger, smirking when you groaned. You pulled yourself up on your elbows and glared at him, “You’re such an ass, you know that?”

He shrugged.

“Bucky—“ You gasped when he inserted two fingers inside you. You huffed, resting on your back now at the new feeling, ignoring even staring at him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Am I an ass now?”

Frustrated, you shot out your hand to his boxers and touched his throbbing dick. He grunted, eyes closing shut. His stomach tightened when you began stroking him through his boxers.

“Shit doll.” He groaned out, quickening his pace with his fingers. “This makes me want to fuck you so bad.”

“Fuck me, please.”

He pulled out his fingers again, much to your dismay, but he pulled down his boxers with your help. You stared at his dick and the way his precum glistened and leaked out. You supposed there was always another month to suck the hell out of it.

He settled you into a position as he pumped his dick. His eyes relished in the sight of your wet pussy, seeing the way it clenched around nothing. He bit his lip and positioned his dick to your entrance, looking at you, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky used your slickness to lube the tip of his head. Guiding it to your hole, he slowly inched his dick inside, losing all of his self control when he heard you strung out moans and gasps.

He pushed himself all the way inside, his head over yours and his arms besides your head. Veins popped out from his neck as he shuddered at the feel of your pussy stretching and taking his dick.

Clenching his eyes, he bottomed out and the both of you groaned at the feeling. Your hands wrapped around his arms, nails digging into his skin. He grunted, snaking his mouth to your neck where he thrusted his hips.

You moaned and he couldn’t help himself anymore. After years of not having sex, he couldn’t help but to chase your high.

“I’m so sorry, doll.”

“Why are you—fuck!” You shouted.

Bucky slapped his hips against yours repeatedly, grunting each time he did. His arms gave up on him as he wrapped them around your back while you wrapped yours around him. He listened to your breathy moans in his ear, the primal rage in him wanting to go harder, but he restrained himself from doing so.

He felt the way your boobs moved up and down on his chest and when you started grinding your hips against him at the same pace he was going at. It was all so warm, he knew he couldn’t hold in his release for much longer if you kept doing this.

“Where do you want me to cum, doll?” He groaned out, caging you closer to him. “I, fuck, you feel so good. The way you’re clamping down on me, shit, feels like heaven.”

“Cum in me…please, sir.”

“Fuck.”

He didn’t speed up his movements but the nickname you used for him lit up a fire in him. He kissed your neck, licking over the mark he made, now littering you with purple hickeys. “You have no idea how good you feel. How badly do you want to cum?”

“Very badly?”

“Yeah?” He thrusted deeply, you moaning loudly, “You want to cum? You can cum, love. Want you to cum while I’m fucking you like this. I know this pussy wants to cum so bad. Come on, doll, cum. You got this.”

You moaned. The coil in your stomach churned when he talked to you. So cooing. With one last thrust, your thighs clenched as you groaned, cumming while he fucked you through it.

“I got you, fuck, yeah, I got you.”

He didn’t hold out for long after you did as he grunted and came inside of you. You hummed when he did, your pussy becoming sensitive the more he slowly thrust into you to finish both of your releases.

Panting, his head fell onto your shoulder, giving you tiny kisses where his mouth was. He pulled out his dick and watched his cum leak out. Fuck, there was no way he could consider you just his cat-sitter anymore.

He used his boxer to wipe down there for you, apologizing when you moved your hips away. You yawned, the tiredness catching up to you. Bucky grinned and lifted you up, letting you wrap around him as he carried you to his bedroom.

“If you get pregnant, I swear I won’t leave you.”

You laughed against his neck, “I have the arm implant. Trust me, I’m not getting pregnant, Bucky.”

“So my name is Bucky now, huh? No more sir?”

“Oh, shut it.”

He cleaned you up in his own bathroom. You fell asleep in the tub before he even finished. Cleaning himself off, he puts you in clean nightwear clothes and carries you to his bed. He covered you in blankets and kissed your forehead before moving to the other side, cuddling you.