#james barnes

“What a massive fucking waste of time this was,” you muttered as you uninstalled Hinge from your phone with a little more force in the press of your thumb than necessary. 

“Not to mention a waste of space on your phone,” your best friend and co-worker, Brittany, said from over the rim of her coffee cup as she took a sip. 

“Yes! Exactly, thank you,” came your muttered response as you watched the app bounce slightly on the screen before the icon disappeared entirely, your profile you set up seven months ago vanishing with it. 

You sat up at your desk, setting your phone down a little roughly on it as you looked over at Brittany. She was sitting with her back to the floor to ceiling windows, the sun filtering in since the blinds had been pulled all the way up, and your eyes instinctively flickered over to the hand that was holding the cup. 

Her left hand, to be specific. 

On her finger were two rings, one big, achingly beautiful engagement ring that stood out because of the large princess cut diamond on the center of it while the rest of the band was rather simple. Under it though was another band, her wedding ring, and this one was littered with smaller diamonds, because she scored a man who fucking adores her and shows it in everything he gives her. 

No, women didn’t need expensive things or giant rings to know they’re loved, but it was sure as hell nice to receive them anyway. 

You narrowed your eyes at her hand, at the way she flaunted the rings like she knows just how fucking lucky she is and wanted to show it off, and she has every right to. She found love in a city full of fuckboys and sugar daddies, and she found someone who looks at her like she hung the moon, and someone that wasn’t a couple decades older than her. 

Then again, she was simply sitting there drinking her double shot espresso and listening to you rant about yet another miserable and failed date you went on last night. She wasn’t flaunting or showing off anything, she was simply existing. 

You sighed, shaking your head. “You know how lucky you are, right? You and Garret have been together, what, six years? And it’s like not a single day has gone by that you and he haven’t fallen even more in love with each other. It’s sick, honestly,”

Brittany laughed, shaking her head as she set her coffee down on her desk. “I am quite aware of how lucky I am,” she said, “And I’m incredibly sorry that last night was a bust. If there was any way I could stop these horrible, disgusting men from inserting themselves into your life, I would.”

She was being serious, though the teasing tone of her voice had you letting out a pitiful whine as you looked back down at her rings. “I know, and I love you for that,” you said, then held out your hand. “Can I wear it again? I want to feel the weight of the love you get to feel every single day.”

Brittany smiled and shook her head again, but she slid off her engagement ring and handed it over to you, watching with a soft grin as you slid the ring onto your own finger. 

You looked down at it, feeling the weight of it trying to balance on your finger, then huffed, tipping your head back on the chair. “You lucky bitch. I hate you,”

She scoffed, turning back to her desk and clicking on the keyboard in front of her, making the monitor to her left turn back on. “You just said you love me,”

“I know. I do love you and I would be so miserable if I didn’t have you in my life,” you said back, and you watched her as she sent you a smirk over her shoulder. 

“You mean you’d be even more miserable?” 

“Yeah, no, I do actually hate you,”

Brittany snorted as she pulled up the spreadsheet she’d been working on before you interrupted her by telling her all the details of your date last night; how the guy kept trying to convince you to let him go home with you, how obvious it was that he was just interested in fucking you even though you explicitly told him on the app messages that you don’t do that on the first date, and how the whole thing just felt like a giant waste of a night. 

“Why don’t you try meeting someone out in the real world? You know, running into someone on the street or striking up a conversation in a store,” she suggested, likely since it worked out so well for her since she met Garret in the checkout line at a Whole Foods. He was behind her after letting her go first, and she thought he was cute so she paid for the six things he’d had in his cart, and he ended up asking her out on a date as they left the store. 

It was so easy, and yet it was simply not that fucking easy. 

You shook your head, looking at the ring on your finger for a few more seconds before sitting up and going back to your own computer. “Somehow I think that would be even worse,”

After spending most of the day sitting at a desk, your back was kind of hurting and your fingers were sore from all the typing you did. 

The relief you instantly felt in your body when you slipped under the sheets of your bed after having a good half hour shower had you moaning, your eyes fluttering shut. It hit you like a ton of bricks that you would much rather prefer to have a man make you moan in bed at close to midnight, but not on the first fucking date, and not when it’s obvious that it’s the only thing he wants from you. 

You’d love to share your bed with a man, preferably your steady, and preferably someone who didn’t make you cringe at the first line he sent you in a text message. You lifted your left hand, your finger once again bare since you obviously gave Brittany her ring back earlier, and you sighed. 

You want what she gets to come home to every night. Dinner, loving arms, handsome smiles, and a kiss on the cheek or mouth as a way of greeting each other after a long day away from one another. 

You wanted your own Garret, which is why you keep going through those fucking apps, hoping to find someone actually interested in more than a quick, easy lay. It was concerning how many men have ignored the way your profile so clearly stated that you are looking for something long term, and assume you just want a night with them instead of a progressing relationship. 

But it seemed hopeless. You tried so many apps now, and they all led to the exact same result; a miserable night with a man who stared at your chest the entire time and lacked basic conversation skills. 

Bumble was a failure, and you couldn’t count how many times you’d been catfished since most of them did not look like their pictures at all. It had you questioning every single man going forward, with you analyzing their photos to see if it looked like it was recent or taken ten years ago.

You were embarrassed at how many times you’ve messaged back and forth with a guy you thought was cute, only for him to show up to the date with a full on beard instead of the clean shaven face he has in his pictures, and bald spots on his head instead of neatly brushed hair. It was offensive, honestly. They weren’t ugly, but to show themselves from before they started to bald, then show up with less hair on their head than they have on their chest is a bit much. 

That’s when you deactivated your profile and deleted Bumble. 

Hinge wasn’t any better. You got sent countless roses from guys who looked to be about the same age as your dad, and so many messages were sent straight into the hidden tab since they were automatically filtered for saying something inappropriate. 

One comment was on a picture of you sitting at a bar, one leg crossed over the other as you held up your drink, and the man had the nerve to have his opening line be ‘My face is a lot more comfy than that stool, why don’t you sit on it instead?’. 

And that pretty much summed up your Hinge experience. 

Your last app is Tinder, and you left it for last since you’d heard about its reputation, and you thought that if you couldn’t find any decent men on the apps you tried before it, it would be your absolute last resort. 

With a soft sigh, you lowered your hand to your bed then rolled onto your side, reaching for your phone. Clicking on the app, you cringed as the first profile popped up, the first photo being of a man taking a mirror selfie, shirtless and with his gym shorts low on his hips. You could tell that it was taken in a gym changeroom, the lockers in the background making it obvious, and you squinted your eyes as you looked at his bicep he was so obviously trying to show off by flexing his arm. 

You swiped left. 

The next few profiles were relatively the same as the first, men showing off their bulging biceps and sharp jawlines under thick hair of a beard. A few more were of men fishing or hunting, holding up either a big catch from the lake or a mutilated body of a forest animal, and you were about ready to call it a night and just go to bed. 

Then, just as you were about to swipe off the app, the new profile that popped up had you pausing. It was a selfie taken on what looked like a sidewalk, and the man was wearing a baggy gray tee with his sunglasses latched onto the neckline of it. He was wearing earbuds, the kind with a string still attached to them, and he was smiling as he looked just slightly off to the left from the actual camera. 

He was attractive, and you noticed the way his smile didn’t seem forced or like he was only doing it to put on a show like you’ve seen from countless other guys. He has dark brown hair that was the perfect length to run your fingers through, a clean shaven face that held hints of him having a beard or at least stubble sometime in the past, and what looked to be the softest lips you’ve ever seen. His eyes were a stunning shade of blue, and there were faint lines near the corners of them, making your own eyes flicker down to see what his age is. 

James, 37, 10 M away. 

That had one of your brows raising, and you went a little further in his profile, reading his bio. 

Cat dad if you like that kind of thing. I don’t like fishing because I’m not good at it, and hunting is incredibly boring to me, but I do like cooking and eating. I’m quite good at both of those things. 

Your lips curled upwards into a soft grin before you pursed your lips. 

This guy was definitely a lot more than attractive, and from what little you’ve read about him, he either has a really good sense of humor, or he’s more of a blunt, dry humor kind of guy, and both of those things piqued your interest. He was also a little bit older than you, and your type has always been older rather than younger since you always felt like you were robbing the cradle, even though the youngest man you’ve dated was only two years younger than you. 

After going through the rest of his bio, you moved onto the four other photos on his profile. One was of him and what looks to be his sister, another of him sitting at a booth with his arms crossed and his head turned to the side, seemingly unaware the photo was being taken, another of him at the gym, but he wasn’t wearing a tight muscle tank or shorts, he was wearing a baggy tee and sweats, and he wasn’t flexing in the mirror as he took the photo, he just looked a little out of breath and focused, and for some reason that was really doing it for you. The last photo wasn’t even of him, it was of his lap and tucked into a small ball on his thighs was a white cat, sleeping peacefully. 

Oh, he really is a cat dad if he’s posting her or him on his dating profile. You liked that for some odd reason. You liked it a lot. 

But would he like you? You weren’t sure, but there was also no harm in checking, right?

It wouldn’t be the first hot guy to reject you on a dating app if he didn’t match with you, and you haven’t gotten attached to him, so fuck it.

You swiped right and then got off the app, not even wanting to see whoever’s profile came next since you had a feeling they weren’t going to top James, and then you set your phone back down on your nightstand, rolled onto your stomach and fell asleep.

You’d been so tired last night that you had forgotten to close the blinds and curtains. 

You woke up to the harsh sunlight starting to seep into your room, and you groaned, rolling onto your side for a few moments before you grabbed your phone and checked the time. 

8:04 in the morning. A solid minute before your alarm was supposed to go off. 

You groaned again, your thumb swiping down to see all the notifications you’d gotten while you slept, and while you weren’t expecting to see any from Tinder since you just started using it last night and had only swiped right on one person, it still deflated you a bit to see no notification from that app. 

But you weren’t going to dwell on it, not if you wanted to be able to grab an iced coffee on your way to work this morning.

Throwing your sheets off your body, you hauled yourself out of bed, leaving it unmade since it was Friday and you planned on washing all your bedding this weekend anyway. 

You were out of your apartment by 8:30, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you headed down the street towards the coffee shop you frequented on the corner. After ordering your usual, you were off to work, and by the time you sat down at your desk, it was just before nine. 

Sliding the straps of your bag off your shoulder, you set it under your desk and out of the way, putting your coffee down on the surface of your desk as you shrugged out of your jacket. 

Brittany was already here and looking as effortlessly stunning as she always does, and when she saw you, she turned in her seat and smiled at you. “Good morning,” she greeted, taking a sip of her own coffee. 

“Morning,” you said back, giving her a smile in return as you draped your jacket over the back of your chair before sitting down. 

She looked at you for a few lingering seconds before she smiled. “You look significantly happier today than you did yesterday,” she observed. “Find any new matches on Humble? Or… or Binge? Whatever it’s called?”

You lifted a brow. “Bumble and Hinge?” you corrected, then shook your head. “No, I deleted those apps. I actually spent a few minutes last night questioning whether or not I’d truly be happy if I ended up all alone for the rest of my life with no one to love me but my three pet cats. And I decided that, yes, I’d be very happy.”

Brittany snorted then covered her mouth as she looked over to her right, making sure no one heard it. “So no more dating apps then?”

You shook your head again, pulling out your laptop and setting it on your desk. “No, I still have one more I’m trying out. After that though, I might just give up on them and try paying for the cute guy behind me in the checkout line instead,” 

Brittany just gave you a big grin instead of scoffing at you, and you expected that joke to go either way. “Hey, it worked out quite well for me,” she said, and you couldn’t even argue with her, because she was absolutely right. 

A few hours later, you and Brittany were sitting down at a picnic bench, an array of food trucks forming a semi-circle around the lot you and her often go to for lunch. 

She was talking about a trip that she and Garret were planning on going on soon when your phone pinged from its place in your bag. You put your burger onto the napkin next to your fries, gesturing for her to keep talking as you rummaged around in your bag. 

Pulling your phone out, you checked the notification and felt a brief jolt of excitement go through you when you saw that it was from Tinder. 

New Match with James. 

You pursed your lips to stop yourself from smiling too big, and Brittany abruptly shut up. “What? Why are you making that face? What am I missing here?” she asked, chewing her own burger that was packed with mainly just tomato. 

A small laugh left your lips as you showed her the notification, and her face relaxed a bit. 

“Oh, you matched with James, I see,” she teased, leaning back when you turned your phone away. “Is he one of the ones you swiped right on last night?”

You nodded, “Yeah- well, he’s the only one I swiped right on last night. The others were… just not good,” 

Brittany snorted, shaking her head. “I could never. From the amount of horror stories I’ve heard about dating apps, I don’t think I could ever actually bring myself to try them. If I wasn’t with Gare, of course,”

“Oh, of course,” you agreed, narrowing your eyes playfully at her before you looked back down at the notification. 

It was nice to know that James found you either attractive or found your profile interesting, or even both. That was a good thing, right? You definitely found him attractive, even more so now than last night since you aren’t as worn out and tired as you’d been when you swiped on his profile. 

But you weren’t going to get your hopes up. You’d been led astray by your fair share of handsome men, and you could only hope that James wasn’t one of those guys that only wants one thing from you. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” you tell Brittany, and she nods in agreement. 

You wanted to message him first, but you’d probably end up overthinking your message, and it would probably take you the rest of your lunch break to come up with a cute but subtle first message, and you were starving. 

So you put your phone back in your bag, planning to message James later if he hadn’t messaged you first already, then returned your full attention back to your burger that was packed with everything but tomato.

You’d been craving tacos for the majority of this week, so after work you went to the grocery store you pass by on your way home. 

If you grabbed enough of the ingredients, you’d be able to get multiple meals out of it, so that’s what you did since you didn’t feel like planning your meals ahead for this weekend. 

You set the heavy grocery bag onto your counter with a huff, setting your work bag next to it after. This week had drained you, like most do, and you had very little energy left to get you through the rest of the day. You decided that you’d skip your usual shower you have after work and instead get started on dinner right away while you still had the motivation to do so. 

Pulling out a pan from the drawer, you put it on the stovetop before turning the burner on. You’d just put the ground beef into the pan to cook it when your phone went off, and you turned to look over at your bag. 

Setting down the wooden spoon you’d been using, you walked over to the counter and pulled your phone out of your bag, seeing that it was another notification from Tinder. 

Oh right, James. 

You’d meant to take some time earlier to text him, or at least to think of a fun first text to him, but it had slipped your mind throughout the rest of your shift at work. 

Clicking on the notification, you were brought to a new message thread with James, and you didn’t let yourself feel too giddy at the fact that he texted first, because, well, bare fucking minimum. 

James B.: Is it okay to be completely honest and say that I’ve spent a good few hours trying to find a good opening line, but all of them seemed absolutely ridiculous and I didn’t want to put you through that? So, here we are instead. 

You let out a laugh when you read that, your hand coming up to your mouth as you read the text again before typing out a response to him. 

So… is that your opening line then?

Oh God, was that way too fast to reply to someone? Did he think you were just waiting around all day for his text now? He’d sent it at a convenient time when you had nothing going on, and you weren’t one of those people who liked waiting hours for a reply, so you didn’t like doing it to others. 

Yep, you were definitely overthinking things like usual. 

You set your phone down quickly and walked back over to the stove, picking up the spoon again to stir the ground beef in the pan. Just as you added the seasoning, your phone went off again, and you looked over at it embarrassingly quickly. You couldn’t help but feel excited to see his response, because you found James very cute and handsome, and he came across as a funny guy over text, and that was unfortunately your exact type. 

James B.: Yes, it was. Did I already blow my chance? Because that would really, really suck. 

Another small laugh left your lips, and you glanced over to make sure the beef wasn’t burning before replying to James. 

No, I liked it. Very different from the openers I’ve received in the past. Smoother too. Very straight to the point. 

The reply to that one came a few minutes later when you had taken the pan off the burner and set it aside, starting on a salad to go with your tacos. 

James B.: Gonna be honest again here, I’m not used to this kind of thing at all, so I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not, but I’m really hoping you’re not because I really gave that my all and it would be terrible to know I’d already messed this up. 

Honesty. You liked that in a guy, again, bare fucking minimum, but at least he was making it known that he was an honest guy right from the start. That was a good sign, and the more you texted him, the more his personality came out and made you laugh, which were also good signs. 

He was already coming off a lot more genuine and friendlier than the guys you’ve matched with in the past, and you could already feel your hopes starting to rise the more you messaged back and forth with him.

You knew you needed to reel yourself back in and not get too ahead of yourself until you’ve actually met the guy and had a conversation with him face to face, but when it was an hour after that first text was sent and he’d let it slip that he thinks you’re very pretty, you could already feel your hopes going through the roof. 

Except, this time, that didn’t feel like a bad thing.

When Monday rolled around, you were in such a good mood after having gotten some pretty decent sleep over the weekend, and your mood had extended over to Brittany, who gave you a big smile when she saw you walk in. 

“Wow, you look different,” she said, leaning back in her chair when you reached your desk. “A good different. You look… happy. Way too happy for a Monday morning.”

You laughed as you sat down. “I am happy. I had a good weekend; caught up on some sleep, had leftover tacos for dinner, watched almost an entire season of a show… oh, and I’ve been talking to James since Friday night. Like, actually talking and not just rushing to meet each other the very next day after matching,”

Brittany’s brows raised, and her smile grew a little. “Wow,” she said again, “That’s great. I was secretly hoping this guy wouldn’t be a massive disappointment. But I’m not going to say anything more than that until you actually meet him. I don’t want to get your hopes up even more than they probably already are.”

Jesus, she knows you too well. “You don’t need to worry about that. I got them up all on my own,” you said as you set your bag down under your desk. “We’re meeting for drinks on Saturday.”

“Oh, wow. I think this is the first time I’m hearing about a date happening a week after texting. Usually you’re meeting up within a few days after talking with a guy,” she observed, and you fought off a growing smile. 

“I know, but James is… I don’t know, different? He said he didn’t want to rush into things, and whenever, or even if I want to meet up, it would be when I’m comfortable enough to do so,” you said, and Brittany’s brows lifted up even more on her forehead. 

“Damn, he already sounds so much better than the other losers,” she said, then bounced a bit in her chair. “Okay, I don’t mean to get your hopes up even more, but I’m really excited for you. From the little I’ve heard, this guy sounds great. You need to tell me everything that happens on Saturday.”

“You know I will,” you said back, giving her a cheeky grin just as your boss walked past, and you both quickly straightened up since you’d gotten reprimanded for gossiping too much in the past. 

Once he was out of earshot, Brittany leaned towards you once more. “I’m excited for you,” she whispered, giving you a genuine smile. “I hope things go well on Saturday.”

You returned her smile, “Me too,”

The week had flown by, unlike last week which seemed to have dragged on. 

Before you knew it, it was Saturday, and you had changed your outfit for tonight no less than five times. The first one was way too formal for a first date, but the second one was way too casual. The third one was nice but too simple, and the fourth one you’d put on was just for fun since it’d been a while since you’d worn that type of dress, and the fifth one was your last attempt at dressing yourself for a first date you were actually excited to go on. 

It was simple, but not as simple as the third outfit. A black velvet skirt, dark brown nylons, a tight fitting dark red turtle neck, and matching black velvet boots that went up to just under your knees. 

You liked how you looked when you stepped in front of the mirror, so before you could go back to your closet to find a sixth outfit, you grabbed your black, faux leather purse and slung it over your shoulder before quickly leaving your room, leaving a mess of clothes strewn all over the place you knew you’d be annoyed to come home to later. 

The place James had suggested meeting was a pub that was conveniently located right at the halfway mark between your place and his. The Uber ride there only took ten minutes, and you cringed when you saw the glowing sign with the pub’s name on it quickly approaching. You planned to meet for seven, but of course you being you, you ended up arriving at six forty five. 

You walked into the pub and looked around, having a feeling that you weren’t going to spot James anywhere since you were fifteen minutes earlier than the time you planned. After checking for him anyway and not seeing him, you walked over to the bar and sat down, putting your purse on the stool next to yours so you could save him a seat. 

Once you’d ordered yourself a drink, you pulled your phone out to message James, just to let him know that you’d arrived. You hadn’t yet exchanged phone numbers, which is something you normally liked only doing once you really trusted someone and felt comfortable with them, so you opened the Tinder app and went straight into the message tab, clicking on the only text thread you have on it. 

Just as you set your phone down to take a sip of your vodka cranberry, it went off, vibrating against your lap. 

James B.: I’m so sorry for making you wait. I’m on the way, I just had some trouble getting there. ETA says one minute, I’ll see you soon. 

You squirmed on the stool, feeling giddy that by the time he arrived, it still wouldn’t be seven yet, so he’d be arriving early too just like you had. 

James proved to be as honest in person as he is over text because only a minute later, the door to the pub swung open, and in walked a man you’d been secretly admiring on your phone screen. 

And you could safely say the photos did not do him justice. 

He was wearing dark jeans, white sneakers that were a little stained with dirt, a light grey shirt and a dark blue jacket. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d been messing around with it during the ride here, but the way his lips parted in a charming smile more than made up for it. 

Fuck, the photos did not do him justice at all. He looked even better in person. 

You straightened up a bit, a nervous smile forming on your lips when his eyes met yours after he’d quickly scanned the room. A matching smile formed on his mouth when he saw you, and he maneuvered his way between tables and other patrons with such ease, and the slight bit of confidence you could feel radiating off of him was definitely a plus rather than a turn off. 

When he reached the bar, you stood up out of instinct, and your head nearly spun at the height difference. Your boots made you an inch taller, but you were still nowhere near James’ height, and you had to tilt your head back to be able to look up at him. 

“Hey,” he greeted, and his voice nearly knocked you off your feet. You hadn’t really given much thought to how his voice would sound, and you and he hadn’t spoken verbally on the phone during the week you’d been texting back and forth, but even if you had you were sure the speaker wouldn’t have done him justice either. 

Holy shit, you needed to calm down. 

“Hi,” you said back, willing your heart to stop beating so fast as you leaned towards him when he extended his arm towards you, and you wrapped your own arms around him in a brief hug. You nearly fainted when your nose brushed against his shoulder and you caught wind of his cologne. 

You had no idea how you were making it through this date, because you hadn’t felt like this at all during your dates with other men in the past, and this was just the fucking greeting stage of it. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, even though you both knew you and he were early. “I think I accidentally requested an Uber Share or something because I had to wait for two other people to get dropped off first before it was my turn. I swear, I have no idea how to work my phone half the time, I’m like someone’s fifty year old dad when it comes to that kind of thing.”

That had you laughing as you sat back down on your stool, and you grabbed your purse, taking it off the stool next to you before gesturing for him to sit down as well. “That’s okay. I’m pretty sure I’ve done that before in the past too. On the plus side, at least it’s cheaper,” 

James tilted his head as he sat down. “I didn’t know that either,”

“Oh, well… now you do,” you lifted your shoulder in a shrug. “So… if all else fails tonight, at least you learned something new.”

“That’s a nice way to look at things, thank you,” he said back, and that charming smile was back on his face, and you had to force yourself to stop looking at his mouth after you’d already been staring at it for a good five seconds. 

Before you got to reply, the bartender came over to him and asked for his order, and James ordered a beer before turning his attention back to you. 

“Um, I don’t know when a good time to mention this is, so I’ll just mention it now,” he started, and he sounded exactly like how he texted, and you found that incredibly endearing. “My friends and family call me Bucky. It’s just like a nickname thing that stuck ever since I was a kid, so… you can call me that if you want. Or James. James is fine too.”

Your lips curved into a sly grin at that, and you propped your elbow up onto the surface of the bar. “Well… if I have permission to use your nickname, I’m not about to pass it up,” you said, then teasingly added, “Bucky.”

James, or Bucky, poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, and you had no idea if he realized how attractive that was or not. “So, do you have any nicknames I should call you by?”

You shook your head, reaching for your drink and taking a sip as you answered, “No, no nicknames. I’m boring like that,”

Bucky’s head tilted to the side again, and he shook it as well. “I don’t think you’re boring,” he said all too easily, completely unaware of the flip your stomach just did. “I’ve been talking to you for less than five minutes and this is already the most fun I’ve had all week, so, you know, stop being so hard on yourself.”

The bluntness of his words had your face heating up, and you subtly pressed the cool glass of your drink against your cheek. “Okay, I will,” you said, and you watched as a grin formed on his face. 

“Sorry, I realize how demanding that sounded,” he said, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

Shrugging, you sipped the last of your drink, knowing you’d definitely need another to get through this date, and for once you didn’t mean that in a bad way. “I didn’t mind it. Kinda needed to hear it, if we’re being honest,”

Bucky’s smile grew at that, and he let out a breathy laugh as he dropped his hand. “I’m not like that, I promise,” 

You blamed the one single drink you’d had on what came out of your mouth next. “And yet something tells me I wouldn’t mind if you were,” 

Your eyes widened a bit at your own words, but you didn’t take them back or say anything to distract him, and you watched the way his own eyes widened a bit before they briefly dropped down to your mouth. He cleared his throat just as his beer was placed in front of him, and he quickly grabbed it. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said under his breath, then took a generous swig of his beer. When you set your empty glass down onto the bar, Bucky eyed it instantly, and he gestured to it as he asked, “Can I get you another one of those?”

You pressed your lips together, leaning your head on your palm when you propped your elbow up on the bar. “Sure,” you said, and Bucky was quickly turning to get the attention of the bar tender. 

Once he’d ordered you another ‘red, fruity looking drink’, he turned back to you, and there was a small smile on his lips as he kept a firm grip on his beer. “I should’ve said this as soon as I walked in,” he said, gesturing to your form with his free hand. “Uh, you… you look really beautiful.”

That had a blush taking over your face instantly, and you really wished your new drink was here so you could try to mask it by pressing the cold glass against your cheek again. You’ve found that in the past, if one of the guys you’d gone on a date with actually made you blush, that it just boosted their already massive egos and made them think you’ll let them sleep with you just because of it. Though Bucky didn’t seem like that type at all. 

“Thank you,” you said after you’d finally found your voice. “That’s really nice of… you look nice too. Good, you look good.”

Holy shit, one guy gives you a compliment and you’re already stuttering out your response. Yeah, this guy was definitely different from the rest, because you’re finding it hard to speak to him, and it wasn’t because he was making you uncomfortable. He was making you feel flustered, but in a really good way. This was all so new to you, and you realized you had no idea how to act on a date that wasn’t expected to end in just sex. 

But he didn’t seem to be weirded out by your behaviour, and the smile he gave you at your nervousness made your heart flutter just a bit. “Thank you,” was all he said, and then your drink was placed in front of you. 

You all too eagerly grabbed it and began sipping it. 

Bucky watched you for a few moments before he shook his head, his smile still on his lips. “Is it considered embarrassing if I tell you that I switched my shirt about three times before settling on this one?” 

That had one of your brows raising, and you lowered your drink back down to the bar. “No, I don’t think that’s embarrassing. It’s a nice shirt. I’m glad it was the winner,” you said, and the laugh that came out of his mouth was genuine, unlike the fake and over the top laughs you’d heard when a guy thought it would increase his chances of getting his dick wet. “I changed my outfit about five times, so I think I have you beat there.”

Bucky’s smile softened, and you felt your heart beat a little quicker at the way he was looking at you right now. “Well, I don’t know what the other outfits looked like, but I’m sure they were beautiful too,”

And that was how the rest of the date went. Bucky would say or do something as simple as lifting his arm to run his hand through his hair, or tell you that you have pretty eyes, and you’d instantly blush and turn into putty in his hands. 

It was embarrassing how much you already liked him, but then again, isn’t that the whole point of a first date? To see if you’re compatible with someone and if you vibe together?

You were definitely feeling the vibe with Bucky, and from the looks he’d been giving you and the things he’d been saying to you all night, you had a feeling he was feeling it too.

It was nearing eleven when you mutually decided to call it a night.

You both made your way out of the pub and onto the sidewalk, and you ordered your Uber first, then helped Bucky order one that wasn’t an Uber Share. You’d both had a fair share of drinks tonight, but you weren’t drunk since you paced yourself with the sole reason of wanting to remember this date with almost crystal clear clarity. 

Once you’d helped Bucky with the correct option on the Uber app, he put his phone in his pocket and let out an embarrassed laugh. “Thanks for that. You probably think I’m like an old man now,” he muttered, and you smiled up at him, shaking your head. 

“I don’t. I actually think men who are terrible at using smart phones are incredibly hot,” 

You were tipsy, not drunk, and that was the reason for your lack of filter right now. 

Bucky lifted a brow as his eyes dropped down to your mouth, and you so badly wanted him to kiss you. Fuck what you’d told yourself before. This man was a walking dream and you wanted him to take you to bed. It was obvious now that the other guys you’ve gone out on dates with would’ve never worked, because you’d never felt what you’re currently feeling right now before in your life. 

But Bucky didn’t lean down, and he didn’t close the distance between yours and his mouth. “I’m not going to kiss you tonight,” he said, almost as if he was telling that to himself, and you felt your face heat up. “I don’t want this to become a cliché, because I had a really, really nice time with you. So, I’m not going to kiss you yet. But just know that I really want to.”

Now your face was on fire for a completely different reason. Pressing your lips together, you looked down at the sidewalk. He probably didn’t even know it, but that was probably the most perfect thing to say to end a date. “Let me see your phone,” you said in response, and Bucky narrowed his brows but reached into his pocket and handed you his phone anyway. 

You held back a laugh when you saw that he didn’t even have a passcode lock for it, and went into his contacts. You put your number in, then saved it under your first and last name before giving his phone back to him. “That’s the first time I’ve given a guy my number on the first date, so…” you trailed off, giving him a flustered grin. “Please text me. Or call me. Or both.”

The look he gave you almost had you begging him to go back on his own words and kiss you, but you held back, and so did he. “I will,” he said with a certainty in his tone that told you he would definitely be texting you after this. 

Your Uber came only moments later, and when you turned to Bucky, you didn’t have to say a single word, because he somehow knew what you wanted to do. He pulled you against his chest for your second hug of the night, and when your nose brushed along his jacket again, you let your eyes briefly close. 

“Have a good night,” he said when he pulled back, keeping his hands wrapped around your elbows. “And weekend.”

You gave him one last smile, stepping back and towards the curb. “You too,” 

Bucky opened the door for you, and you were once again reduced to a blushing mess as you crawled into the backseat and tried to force yourself to stop smiling so much, but it was hopeless, because there was a permanent smile on your face the whole ride back to your apartment.

It’d been less than twenty four hours since your date with Bucky, and you were still giddy just thinking about it, let alone talking about it. 

He’d ended up texting you a few minutes after you’d gotten home, and even though it was a simple message that thanked you for a good night, it still set butterflies loose all over your body. 

You weren’t sure how you’d managed to go to sleep at all last night when your mind was completely awake for most of the night, playing back every interaction you’d had with him. 

When your phone went off from its place on the coffee table, you instantly reached for it, and the text made you cover your mouth with your fingers. 

Bucky from Tinder: I’d really like to take you out for dinner sometime next week, if you’re available. Hopefully that isn’t asking too much too fast. 

“Oh, Jesus, you’ve got it bad,” Brittany said from her place on the couch next to you. You’d invited her over for a girls’ day, complete with wine and wearing sweats all day long, and you’d just finished telling her all about how good the date had been. “You’re smiling at that thing like it’s eight inches and about to rock your world.”

You barked out a laugh, looking over at her with a barely repressed smile. “I kind of want it to,” you said back, and Brittany let out a laugh of her own. “He wants to take me out for dinner next week.”

Brittany hummed in interest, leaning over to look at the text as well. “You have him saved as ‘Bucky from Tinder’?” she scoffed, shaking her head. 

“Hey, he didn’t give me his full name last night,” you defended yourself. 

“Did you give him yours?” 

“No… just my first and last name,” you said, and Brittany shook her head as she brought her wine glass up to her mouth and took a sip from it. “But I would’ve given him a lot more than that. He was so sweet and kind and funny and… Britt, he was respectful, and he made me feel so comfortable the whole time. I’ve never been on a date that was that… good. Does that even make sense?”

Brittany nodded, smiling when she lowered her glass. “Of course it makes sense, that’s how it’s supposed to be,” she said like it was obvious, and you supposed it kind of was. “That’s exactly how Gare made me feel on our first date. I mean, yeah that’s the bare minimum, but in this day and age? It’s how you know you’ve found a good one.”

“Or found one who’s too good to be true,” you said, but even you didn’t believe that, and the eyeroll you received from Brittany was justified. 

“Stop trying to convince yourself it’s all an act,” she said, reaching for the wine bottle and pouring more into both yours and her glasses. “There are good guys still in the world, and from what I’ve heard, you’ve finally found one after multiple failed attempts.”

You scoffed. “Wow, harsh,”

“Am I wrong?” she asked, giving you a sly smirk, “That’s what I thought. Now stop second guessing things, and stop trying to convince yourself that it’s too good to be true. Just have fun and see where things go. Oh, and get his last name and text it to me so I know who to point fingers at if you ever go missing. You can never be too careful.”

You let your shoulders drop as you laughed, and you nodded, taking your now filled glass from her when she held it out to you. “You’re right. I’m having fun and seeing where things go,” you stated, and Brittany held up her pinky to you with a grin, and you wrapped your own pinky around hers before the focus shifted to what to order for dinner.

The restaurant you and Bucky met at had been your choice since he picked the pub last Saturday, so you opted for a place you’d gone to a couple times before with your friends, because the menu was good, and it was a relatively chill place compared to the more lively restaurants located throughout Brooklyn. 

You’d planned to meet there for six, and of course you were both there around five forty five instead. This date felt significantly more formal than the first one did, so you dressed up a little more than you did last week, while also trying to not overdo it. A cute black dress that fit you well and had thin straps and went down to just above your knees, and black heels that gave you another inch or two of height, but when you stood next to Bucky, you were still nowhere near being as tall as he is. 

He dressed up more too, and if you thought he looked good on the first date, you had no words for how he looks right now. A crisp white button up that was pulled up to his elbows, showing off his, for lack of better words, thick forearms, covered his top half, while dark grey jeans and Converse covered his lower half, and holy shit. This man has the ‘stylish but still casual’ look perfected. 

And when he pulled out your chair for you, you swooned even more, even though Brittany’s words of that being ‘the bare minimum’ rang throughout your head. It somehow felt like much more than that. 

You were two glasses of wine and one shared appetizer deep when the vibe shifted from light and friendly to downright flirty, and you were grateful that the lights were dim in this restaurant, or else Bucky would be able to see how easily he can get you all flustered. 

Bucky’s arms were crossed on the table, his eyes fixated on you as he watched you take a slow sip of your wine. “I gotta say… I thought you looked beautiful last weekend, but tonight… Fuck,” he muttered the last word, and you had to cover your mouth with your hand as you quickly averted your eyes. 

There was no way you could look at that man while he says things like that and not jump across the table at him. You had no idea a simple swear word could sound so hot. 

You had to take a few moments to compose yourself, and a few more sips of wine, before you could even string together a response. “Well, I thought you looked incredibly good last weekend too, but the way you look right now… Not sure if there are words to even describe it,” you said, feeling more confident about what to say in front of him now that the ice had effectively been broken. “You look like a sexy professor or something. I would’ve definitely gone to all my classes if my teachers looked half this good.” 

Bucky’s brow raised and he ran his tongue along the seam of his lips. “So, does that mean I have some competition? Are you harbouring some feelings for your past professors or is this some kind of fantasy you have?”

You shook your head. “No, definitely not harbouring any feelings,”

“No?”

“No. No, they were all old and balding, not that that’s a bad thing, but still,” you said, and the small laugh you’d gotten out of Bucky had a permanent smile on your lips. “Oh, before I forget. What’s your last name?”

“My last name?” he huffed out another laugh. “That’s an odd shift in conversation. It’s Barnes.”

“Bucky Barnes,” you said, unable to stop yourself from cracking up. “The double B, huh?”

Bucky shook his head, holding up a finger as he poured the remaining wine into yours and his glasses. “No, my first name is James, remember? So it’s technically JB.”

You hummed, nodding slowly. “Well, what’s your middle name?”

That had him freezing, and he shot you a sheepish smile as he set the empty bottle aside and pushed it towards the edge of the table. “That’s reserved for date number three,”

Your face flushed at that, and you tilted your head. “So, is that you telling me you would like to see me again after this?” 

Bucky tilted his head too, a grin tugging at his lips. “If I haven’t made it obvious enough, I like you. And I’d definitely like to see you again after this,” he said, and his way with words made your heart flutter wildly in your chest. He was so blunt, but equally sweet, and you didn’t know how much you liked that until now. 

You pressed your lips together before swallowing harshly. “Me too,”

“You like me too, or you’d like to see me again after this too?” he asked, and you let out a soft laugh. 

“Both,”

After dinner, you and Bucky once again found yourselves standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, waiting for your separate Ubers. Even though every inch of your body was screaming at you to ask if you could go with him, or tell him to come with you, you didn’t want to rush this. He didn’t rush things the last time, and it only made this second date that much better. 

You weren’t waiting for nearly as long as you were last time, which was quite unfortunate since you would gladly spend the rest of your Friday night with Bucky. Your Uber driver was just down the street, and when you turned to look up at Bucky, you found him already looking down at you. 

Before you could say anything, he took a step towards you, then another until he was right in front of you, and you had to crane your neck a bit to look up at him. “I really wish I kissed you last time,” he said, and you felt your heart start beating a little faster as you inhaled a shaky breath.

“I wish you did too,” you said back, and you stood completely still as he lifted his right hand and cradled your jaw. He tilted your head up just a bit more, and you were desperate to feel his mouth on yours, and he must be feeling a similar way, because only a few seconds later he was leaning down and closing the distance between you and him. 

You stayed frozen for a few more seconds before your hands came up and rested on his chest. You kissed him back, and despite the tension between you and him, the kiss wasn’t rushed or rough or harsh. It was deep and intense and it left you feeling light headed but in the best possible way. 

The hand on your jaw slid into your hair, and he deepened the kiss just slightly before pulling back, and his forehead came to rest against yours just as your Uber pulled up. 

You looked to the side and winced when you confirmed that was indeed the car listed as the one that would be taking you home, and then you turned back to Bucky. “That’s my ride,” you muttered a little miserably. 

But Bucky just laughed softly. “Have a good night, sweetheart,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be thinking about this all weekend.”

“Just all weekend?” you breathed, earning yourself another laugh. You smiled as you pulled away, and he once again opened the door for you. “Have a good night, Bucky.” you said back, then got into the car. 

The breath of air you let out as soon as he shut the door would’ve been embarrassing to have done in front of a stranger, but you were full of nerves and wine and you could still feel Bucky’s lips on your own, so you didn’t even care. 

Brittany was right. You’ve got it bad.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that fucking starstruck after a first kiss. Like, ever,” you said after you finished telling Brittany all about your second date with Bucky. It was a Monday morning and you’d been at work for forty five minutes now, and yet you’d done absolutely nothing at all except talk to your best friend. 

Brittany leaned forward at her desk, wiggling her brows at you. “Not even after your first kiss with a man ever?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Not even then.”

“Oh, babe, you’re down so bad,” she laughed, leaning back in her chair and swaying it a bit. “I’m definitely mentioning this in my maid of honor speech at your wedding.”

Your face heated up at that, and you bit down on your lip. “Promise?”

“Oh, my God!” she laughed again, “You really like this one, huh? You never reacted like that when I joked about marriage in the past.”

“Well, none of them have been as amazing as Bucky’s been,” you said back, and as if you’d manifested him, your phone vibrated from where it was on your desk. You grabbed it, and the look on your face must’ve told Brittany everything, because she let out a scoff. 

“Speak of the devil, huh?” 

You laughed, reading over his text another two times before looking up at her. “He wants to see me again this week,” 

“Damn, he’s down bad too,” Brittany said, and you rolled your eyes as you began typing out a reply. “But I’m happy for you. Seriously. This is going extremely well, and I can’t wait for a double date with you and Bucky and Gare and I.”

That had you looking up from your phone with a grin. “I’d be so down for that,”

The week passed by in a blur, and so did yours and Bucky’s third date which was at the movie theater, and by the end of that one, after whispering to each other all throughout the movie, he asked if you wanted to come over to his place Saturday night for dinner, and you were quick to say yes. 

You hadn’t been to a man’s house in an embarrassingly long time, and you hadn’t been to a man’s house for dinner in an even longer time, so of course you had no idea what to wear. 

Something similar to what you wore to the movies seemed appropriate, especially since you wouldn’t be going out to a restaurant to eat, so there wasn’t really a need to dress up too much… right?

You settled on light blue jeans and a burgundy sweater, completed with the letters NYU in large, white font across your chest. It was your comfort shirt, and it felt fitting since your heart had been beating a million miles a minute since the moment you stepped foot in Bucky’s apartment. 

He’d ushered you over to the couch, where he’d gotten you settled in with a glass of wine and a nice view of him as he moved around his kitchen. The open concept allowed you to shamelessly watch him move from one counter to the stove to the fridge without anything in the way of your view, except for the big island that took up a good portion of the kitchen. 

He was making some old family recipe that had been passed down for about seventy years now, but he’d told you that it was pretty much just a fancier version of pasta with a homemade sauce. 

As you looked around his apartment, you couldn’t stop the smile that had formed on your face. It was so Bucky, which made sense, but it still made you feel all warm on the inside. 

On the coffee table in front of you were two TV remotes, a coaster that had seen better days, a book that must’ve had well over a thousand pages in it, and a small spider plant that seemed to be living its best life. How men were so good at keeping plants alive, you had no idea, but you felt bad about all the plants you’d accidentally killed in the past when you saw how lively his plant looks. 

A large flat screen TV was mounted on the wall, and under it was an electric fireplace encased in dark gray brick. The couch you were sitting on could fit maybe four people comfortably, and was a soft velvet fabric but it also had a more modern feel to it. 

The rug under your feet was a dark blue and you could see traces of white fur embedded in it, which made sense since there was a small cat tree tucked away in the corner by the window, and it also had traces of white all over it. 

His kitchen was modern too, with light gray cupboards and cabinets with a black marble counter top, and the fridge and stove were both stainless steel you had personal beef with since it was a pain in the ass to clean and remove all fingerprints from, but both his appliances were pretty close to spotless. 

There was a six seater dining table off to the right near the floor to ceiling windows, and there was a beautiful light made of black metal hanging over the center of the table.

Dim lights hung over the island while white spotlights filled in the dark spots in the kitchen, and you were extremely jealous that Bucky gets to come home to his place every day after work, because this was pretty close to being your dream apartment. 

Bucky was a good looking guy, and he always seemed to know how to dress himself perfectly for whatever occasion, so it made a lot of sense that his apartment was very nicely decorated. 

Now if only you knew what his bedroom looked like…

After taking in his apartment, you let your eyes drift over to Bucky again, and you had to bring your wine glass up to your mouth to hide your growing smile. He looked good, even though he was just wearing jeans and a light blue Henley. 

You watched as he stirred the pot of noodles on the stove, and you were finally able to compose yourself enough to speak. “Your place is so nice. I’m actually jealous that you get to come home to this every day,” you said, taking a sip of the wine and letting it cool you down a bit. “I didn’t realize you had such a creative eye for interior design.”

Bucky laughed, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Don’t give me all the credit. I put pretty much half a year’s paycheck into it. This place looked a lot different when I first moved in a couple years ago,” he said, setting down the spoon he was using before taking the pot off the burner. “My sister had a lot of say in most of it. She’s the one who has the eye for that kind of thing.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Has anyone ever told you that it’s okay to take a compliment?” you asked, earning another laugh from Bucky as he began putting the pasta onto two plates. 

As he plated the food, you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, and when you turned your head, you saw a fluffy white cat sitting in the entrance way of the hall. There was a pastel yellow collar around its neck, complete with a small silver bell, and it had blue eyes that matched Bucky’s. 

Like father like child, you guessed, even though this wasn’t a human being.

“That is the cutest cat I’ve ever seen,” you said, sitting up a bit as the cat looked inquisitively at you, like it was taking you in. 

Bucky hummed, looking over his shoulder again, and when he saw the cat sitting in the hallway, he grinned. “Yeah, that’s my girl, Alpine. She’s pretty sweet looking,” he said back, picking up both plates and making his way over to you. “She’s feisty though. I could’ve sworn she was on drugs when I first got her. She scratched pretty much every piece of furniture to the point where I had to replace it all. She’s more relaxed now that she’s three, thankfully.”

You smiled at that, sitting up even more as he held the plate out to you, and your mind briefly went back to his dating profile, where he explicitly stated that he is a cat dad. “Are we eating here?” you asked, setting your wine down on the coffee table as Bucky sat down next to you on the couch. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you,” he said, a smile growing on his lips when his knee brushed against yours. 

“It’s okay with me,” you immediately said, setting the plate down on your lap. “Feels more domestic this way.”

His lips only curved more at that. “That’s what I was thinking too,”

As you and he ate, you couldn’t stop yourself from constantly looking over at him, watching the way his jaw moved as he chewed. You’d been thinking about yours and his first kiss pretty much all week, and having him so close to you and looking so effortlessly hot was not helping your case at all. It definitely didn’t help that you’d gotten teased a little earlier when you first arrived, since he’d welcomed you into his place with a kiss to your cheek that was dangerously close to your mouth. 

You and he also shared a kiss on your last date, but it was brief since he’d got called into work afterwards when you and he left the theater, so you only got to feel his lips for a minute or two before he left. You wanted him to kiss you again, but this time for much longer. 

Once you and he finished eating, he set the plates aside and picked up his own wine glass, and your eyes were once again drawn to his mouth and neck as he swallowed. “That was really good,” you said, trying to distract yourself as you nodded at the now empty plates. “I think whoever came up with that recipe would be very proud to know that it was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”

Bucky’s mouth lifted in a small grin, and he shifted on the couch, draping one arm around the back of it all too casually. This whole thing felt all too domestic and comfortable, which are two things you hadn’t felt around a man in quite some time now. “That would be my great grandmother. She came up with it when my grandma got married and they couldn’t afford to hire a chef to handle the meal for the wedding, so she came up with something special for her,”

You grinned at that, propping your elbow up on the back of the couch. “That’s so sweet. That just makes it even better,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, “That makes it feel even more special. Thank you for that.”

Bucky gave you a look that had you squirming a bit, and when he leaned forward to set his glass aside, then reached for yours, you let him take it from you and place it next to his. 

Now empty handed, you had nothing to fiddle with as a blush was starting to take over your body. But you didn’t have to simmer in it for too long as Bucky’s big hands moved to your face, and he cradled your head like you were something precious. 

Then he was guiding you into a kiss, and you all but melted against him. Your own hands came up to rest on his shoulders, and that must’ve encouraged him to deepen the kiss as his tongue slid past your lips and brushed against your own. 

This is what you’d been craving since your very first taste of him, and you were not about to not take full advantage of the fact that he’d initiated this, and he clearly wanted this as much as you do. 

One of your hands slid around to the back of his neck, and you tangled your fingers in his hair as you pressed closer, and Bucky nearly pulled you onto his lap. A soft, needy sigh left your mouth and entered his, and you felt the way his grip on you tightened before his hands moved to your waist, holding you firmly against his chest. 

When you pulled back for a breath of air, Bucky was pulling you back in, and you once again forgot how to breathe as you shared his air instead. He tasted like the dinner he’d made for you and wine, and for some reason it tasted even better on his tongue. 

Your fingers tugged gently on his hair, and your stomach flipped wildly inside your body at the deep sound that tumbled from the back of his throat. Your arms banded around his shoulders, keeping him close when you had to pull away to be able to breathe in fresh air. Your lips were tingling and your heart was pounding in your chest, something you were sure he could feel from how close you were. 

God, he was a good kisser. Definitely the best guy you’ve ever shared a kiss with, though you were sure your attraction to not only his appearance but to his overall personality played a huge factor in your opinion on that. 

Bucky pressed his forehead against yours, soft breaths leaving his lips that you tried to match your own breathing to. His lips were puffy and damp like you knew yours were, and his eyes had significantly darkened. 

A heat pooled in your lower body, but you didn’t let yourself give it too much attention. 

As much as you wanted to have sex with Bucky right now, you also didn’t want to rush things. Yours and his relationship had been going perfectly so far, and the pacing of it was a huge part of that. There was no doubt that you wanted him to take you to his bed right now and fuck you into tomorrow, but you also knew that the build up to it, especially after this heated interaction on the couch, would make it that much better. 

So you just leaned in and started a much lazier kiss that still had that heat growing inside of you, but wouldn’t be enough to persuade you into begging him to take you right then and there. 

Though as you felt his big, strong hands slide up your sides as he kissed you back, you weren’t sure how much longer you would be able to have him like this before you could no longer resist taking that much more serious step with him.

The first thing you read on Monday morning was a text from Bucky that had you feeling all kinds of things. 

Bucky Barnes: I can’t stop thinking about you. 

It was simple, straight forward, but so fucking sexy. You practically melted all over again when you read it after sleeping alone in your bed. How you managed to keep yourself off his dick on Saturday, you’d never know, but you had a feeling that the next time you see him, you weren’t sure how you would be able to stop yourself from taking that next step with him. 

You were already feeling a little heated just thinking about it as you texted him back. 

I can’t stop thinking about you either. Movie night soon? At my place? I’ll provide the movies and booze, you just bring yourself. 

The fact that it only took him under two minutes to respond only made you feel even warmer. 

Bucky Barnes: Absolutely. I can’t promise I’ll be paying much attention to the movies, though. Fair warning.

How he was so easily able to make you melt like this, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining about it at all. You hadn’t felt this way in so long, you were more than ready to bask in it for as long as you could. 

That was kind of why I suggested it. Fair warning back to you. 

It turns out that you weren’t the only one who’d been holding back that night at Bucky’s when he made you dinner then indulged in some shameless making out on the couch after.

You and Bucky had only gotten ten minutes into Twister before you both leaned in for a kiss, and things had only escalated from there. 

He looked so big on your two seater couch, and that sight alone had you feeling needy for him, and he must’ve been feeling something similar since it didn’t take long for him to haul you onto his lap and guide you into a much deeper kiss as the movie continued to play on the TV behind you, completely forgotten about. 

Your hands slid into his hair, tilting his head back as you took control in the way most men you’d been with in the past didn’t like very much, because God forbid a woman be in control. 

But Bucky just let out the deepest, sexiest sound you’d ever heard in your life, and it once again proved to you that he was so beyond different from the failures you’d let into your life before him. 

His hands slid under your shirt and grabbed onto your waist, his fingers gently digging into your skin. The skin on skin contact you’d been craving since the very first date had you moaning into his mouth, and you felt the way his grip tightened just a bit more. 

When he broke away from the kiss, you were both panting heavily, your lips damp and puffy much like his are. “Is it too soon to say that I’ve been thinking about this for a while now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he let out short breaths. 

You quickly shook your head, your nails scratching along his scalp. “No. I’ve been thinking about this for a while too. An embarrassingly long time, honestly,” 

Bucky huffed out a laugh, his hands smoothing up and down your sides. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he mumbled, “But I am curious to know exactly how long you’ve been wanting this now.”

Your face flushed and you let out an embarrassed whine as you pressed your forehead against his. “Like… since the first date,” you confessed, and Bucky let out another soft laugh that had you heating up even more. “But it’s really not my fault. You were so sweet and kind and… I’d never gone out with someone who was so considerate and nice to me.”

Bucky gave you a small grin, one of his hands moving to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. “Too bad for the guys who came before me then,” he murmured, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. “They didn’t deserve to see you like this anyway.”

Your breath hitched at that, your eyes flickering between his own and his mouth. “Like what?”

Bucky guided your face closer to his once again. “Like this,” he repeated, his lips brushing against yours. “So perfect and pretty and sexy.”

Your body flushed at that, and your thighs tried to close around his hips, something you knew he noticed as he gave you another brief smile before he was leaning in and kissing you again. 

You kissed him back, pressing your chest right up against his as you deepened the kiss. As his tongue brushed along the seam of your mouth, you parted your lips and moaned when it immediately touched yours. Your hips instinctively rolled forward against his, and the sound he made had you feeling light headed and tipsy despite you being completely sober. 

He pulled away again, and when you tried to chase after him, he brought both hands up to your face to hold you still. His lips were wet and parted and there was obvious desire in his eyes, but he still refrained from kissing you again. Before you could question him, Bucky asked a question of his own, “Are you ready to do this with me? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to yet,” he asked, and you reeled back in surprise. 

Was he seriously asking if you were ready to have sex with him? God, you wanted to meet his mother so bad, because the first thing you’d do is thank her for raising such a perfectly decent man who effortlessly put the rest of the men in the entire world to fucking shame. 

You felt a bit too giddy as you nodded. “Yes. I do want to do this,” you said. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Bucky replied instantly, and you smiled. “I just don’t want to rush you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

Your smile grew at that, and you ran your hands down the front of his dark red Henley. “I want to do this. I’m ready to do this,” you said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready. You make me comfortable, Bucky.”

You watched as a small grin formed on his face, and then his hands were cradling your face as he guided you back into a kiss. As you lost yourself in the feeling of his mouth on yours, his hands moved down your body, one planting firmly on your hip while the other one teased the waistline of your leggings. “Can I?” he asked against your lips, and you once again eagerly nodded. 

His hand slid beneath the fabric of both your leggings and your panties, and your breath hitched when you felt his fingers brush against your core. You moaned against his mouth as his fingers found your wetness, and the roughness of his skin against yours felt better than anything else. 

“Still okay?” he asked, pulling back to look up at you, and you closed your eyes as you nodded. He gathered your wetness on his fingers, swiping them along your folds before he dipped one inside of you. A soft moan tore from your lips, your hands coming up to grab tightly onto his shoulders. “You’re so wet.” he murmured, something close to pride evident in his tone. 

Your face flushed at that, and you held him even tighter. “Bucky,”

He worked you open with one finger before slowly adding a second, and you moaned a little louder. “You’re so pretty,” Bucky said under his breath, the hand on your hip helping you rock against his hand. You rolled your hips forward, grinding against his hand as he worked his fingers inside of you, and another long moan slipped past your lips. “So fucking pretty.” he repeated, then nuzzled his face against your neck. 

He started placing open mouthed kisses along your skin, his tongue darting out to taste you. Your head fell back a bit, giving him more room as you rode his fingers, and he all too happily let you set the pace. 

“Mmm,” you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair as he ran the tip of his nose along the length of your throat. “Feels so good.”

Bucky smiled against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, your pussy clenching a bit when he curled his fingers just slightly inside of you. He was so gentle and it made it feel ten times better than it ever had before. “So good, Bucky.”

He hummed against your skin, then he gently sucked on the spot between your neck and shoulder, and you shuddered on his lap. Normally, you thought hickeys were uncomfortable and a bit childish to both receive and put on others, but with Bucky you found yourself leaning into his touch. He had completely switched your perspective on most things regarding dating, and you weren’t the least bit mad about it. 

After he was satisfied with the mark he’d left on you, the one you couldn’t wait to see later in the mirror, he lifted his head and pressed his lips to yours. You moaned against his mouth, your sounds muffled now as you rocked your hips against his own. When his thumb brushed against your clit, you jolted unexpectedly, a needy whine tearing from your mouth after. 

“You like that?” he asked, once again pulling back from your mouth so he could look up at you. 

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you tugged gently on his hair. “Yes. Fuck,” you gasped. “I like it.”

Bucky hummed again and continued to tease your clit as he worked you open on his fingers. “I wanna feel you cum for me, baby,” he murmured, and the pet name had you clenching tightly around his fingers. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your grip on his hair tightened a bit as you dropped your forehead to his, your moans growing louder as you felt your body start to tense up. “Fuck,” you whispered harshly, pressing your chest against his as you came. Pleasure ripped through you, hitting you harder than anything had in a while, and you could confidently say that no man had ever made you feel like that with just his fingers. 

A shaky breath left your lips as your body trembled on top of him, your pussy fluttering from the sensitivity as he worked you through it with his free hand placed firmly on your lower back, holding you against him and keeping you grounded. 

“Holy shit,” you laughed, reaching down to wrap your hand around his wrist when the pressure became too much, and he instantly paused, his eyes locking with yours. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that before in my life.” you confessed, and Bucky smiled up at you. 

“It’s about to get even better,” he said, and you believed him wholeheartedly. If he was that good with just his hands, you weren’t sure how you were going to survive having his cock inside of you, but you were excited either way. You watched with hooded eyes as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, then pulled his hand out of your leggings before bringing it to his mouth and cleaning it of your wetness. “Where is your bedroom?” he asked as he licked his fingers.

You were breathless when you answered, “Last door on the right. Down the hall,” you gestured behind you then grabbed onto his shoulders again as he grabbed onto the undersides of your thighs and stood up from the couch, lifting you up with him. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you, following your directions to your bedroom. Your fingers bunched up the fabric of his shirt as he entered your room, and then you were laying on your back on your bed as Bucky stood over you, looking down at you with nothing but desire all over his face. 

You watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your eyes instantly dropped down to his chest. This man was effortlessly beautiful, and you never wanted to lick someone’s abs so much before in your entire life. 

When he started to unzip his jeans, you snapped back to the moment and began pulling down your leggings, along with your soaked panties. You were so turned on and so comfortable with Bucky that you didn’t even feel self conscious about the fact that he’s seeing your lower half completely bare for the first time, and that only solidified things for you. 

You were almost certain that you’d found the guy you wanted to spend your life with, but it was still too early to say that, so you kept it to yourself for now as you kicked your leggings aside and sat up on your bed. 

Bucky popped open the button and lowered the zipper on his jeans, but he abandoned doing the rest in favor of reaching out and helping you pull off your shirt. You took it upon yourself to pull down both his boxers and jeans while he reached behind you and unclasped your bra, and then you were both completely naked. 

Your eyes widened at the sheer size of him before he grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you against him as he lowered himself onto your bed, settling on top of you. 

A moan left your mouth and entered his when he kissed you, pushing your thighs apart as he moved in between them. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you kissed him back, another moan leaving your lips as he rocked his hips against yours. His cock was hard and thick as it brushed against your wet folds, making you shudder against his body. 

“You’re big,” you choked out when you pulled away from the kiss to get some air. “Sorry, that was the first thing on my mind now that we’re seconds away from having sex.” you added sheepishly when you saw the boyish grin on his lips. 

“It’s okay,” he laughed, pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips. “We’ll go slow, at your pace.”

You let out a soft sigh, nodding as your hands came up to cup his face. “Okay,” you whispered, stroking his cheeks with your fingers as he continued to slowly rock  his hips against yours. “Do you have a condom?”

He nodded, bracing himself on his forearms above you. “In my wallet,” he answered, “Hang on, I’ll get it-”

But when he tried to lift himself off you, your legs came up to wrap around his waist. “I’m on the pill,” you breathed, feeling your body heat up at the way he instantly paused. “I’ve never done it without a condom before, but I wouldn’t mind trying it with you. But if you want to use one-”

It was his turn to cut you off now, but he did it with a kiss. You hummed against his lips, but before you could deepen it, he slowly pulled away. “I’ve never done it without one either,” 

Your eyes widened at that. “Really?” you asked in shock, and one of Bucky’s brows raised. “I mean… you’re just a little older than me, so I just assumed…”

He shook his head, lifting one hand to brush your hair out of your face. “No. Never. I was only in one serious relationship before this, and she was terrified to get pregnant, so we always used a condom,”

“Oh,” you breathed, running your hands up his firm biceps. “So… do you want to try it without one?”

Bucky smiled down at you, kissing the tip of your nose. “Yes. I do,” he said, “As long as you’re sure.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together as you felt his cock brush against your core again. “I’m sure,”

Bucky kissed you one more time before reaching down and grasping his cock. “We’ll go slow,” he said again and waited until you nodded before he slowly pushed inside of you. 

Your back arched off the bed, a choked moan leaving your lips as you tensed up. “Fuck,” you whimpered, grateful that he’d paused after only sliding the first couple inches inside of you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding himself up on one forearm braced above your head as he looked down at you. 

“Yeah. Yes,” you whispered, “Just… slow. Please.”

Bucky smiled at you, and it had you momentarily forgetting about the pressure you felt in your lower body. “Slow,” he agreed, his other hand grabbing yours. He laced your fingers together before gently pinning your hand on your pillow next to your head, and you gave it a gentle squeeze. 

He pushed the rest of his cock inside of you, and you closed your eyes as your head fell back on the pillow. “Oh, my God,” you breathed, and the deep laugh Bucky let out had you clenching tightly around him. 

“Fuck,” he echoed, his laugh quickly dying out as he dropped his forehead to yours, his own eyes squeezing shut. “God, you feel so good.” he whispered, and his praise made you blush all over your body. 

Your free hand slid up his back before tangling in his hair, a long moan leaving your mouth as he slowly pulled back just a few inches before pushing back in. “Fuck, you feel good too,” you whimpered, turning your head as you pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “Never felt this… this full before.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, his hand giving yours another gentle squeeze as he set a deep, slow pace. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” 

“It definitely is,” you said, softly dragging your nails along his scalp. “You feel so good, Bucky.”

He moaned at that, and you felt the shifting of his hand on the pillow above your head as he fisted the fabric between his fingers. “So do you, baby,” he rasped. “Never felt something this fucking good.”

A loud moan came from the back of your throat from both his words and the way he thrust into you a little deeper. He connected his mouth to yours as he started to rock his hips against yours, every drag of his cock allowing you to feel every inch of him. 

As your body adjusted to him, you started to crave him more and more. Your hand tightened in his hair as you dragged your tongue along his, revelling in every thrust of his hips. “Faster,” you moaned against his mouth, and your stomach flipped at the deep groan he let out before he started moving his hips a little faster. 

You jolted with each thrust, your body starting to move further up the bed. Bucky released the pillow and reached down, hiking your leg up higher around his waist and keeping your body pinned to his as he started to fuck into you, each drag of his cock audible now. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, your other hand flying to his hair as well when he let go of it. Both his hands grabbed your hips, holding you in place as he worked himself inside of you. 

Bucky let out a deep grunt before he kissed you again, and it was much messier now than it was before. It was teeth and tongue and his spit meeting yours as the headboard began to tap against the wall, and you briefly worried that your neighbours would be able to hear it. 

But then again, you’d lived here for five years and not once had you brought a man home and let him fuck you in your bed, so they could just deal with it for one night. 

Though you really hoped this wouldn’t be only one night. The way Bucky was fucking you told you that it wouldn’t be. 

“God, baby,” he groaned, one hand moving down to grab onto your ass, and he wasn’t being quite as gentle as before, but he still wasn’t anywhere near being rough. “You’re so tight and wet and… fuck, you’re perfect.”

You moaned at that, because that was the exact word you would use to describe him. “You are,” you said back, one hand leaving his hair and latching onto his lower back. “You’re fucking perfect, Bucky. You have been this whole time.”

Bucky grunted against your lips, and his hand quickly moved from your hip to your clit. “I need you to cum for me again, baby. You feel too fucking good, I won’t last. I want you to cum first,” he nearly begged, and that shouldn’t have been so sexy. 

Your heels dug into his lower back as he fucked you a little harder and circled your clit with clumsy fingers, and it was more than enough to send you reeling into yet another orgasm. Your nails dug into his skin as your back arched, and your cry filled your bedroom as you came, this time around his cock, though it hit you just as hard as when you came on his fingers in the living room. 

Bucky let out a low grunt, his hips stuttering a bit as he grabbed your hip again, seemingly needing something other than your ass to hold onto as he began to spill inside of you. 

Your pussy pulsed sharply around him as he filled you, his warmth being the first to ever find home deep within your body. You hoped he would be the only man to ever cum inside of you. 

He pressed his warm body against yours, his arms banding around your middle as he buried his face in your chest, heavy breaths raking through his body. “Fuck,” he huffed, turning his head and pressing his cheek against your breast. “Shit.”

You let out a small laugh, running your fingers through his hair and trying to smooth down the strands that were now sticking up. “Fuck indeed,” you murmured, a smile forming on your lips when he let out a laugh as well. 

Bucky lifted his head and looked at you, a sated, satisfied smile on his lips as he tried to control his breathing. “That was… really fucking good. I don’t think anything else could ever top that,”

You hummed, your smile turning into a smirk. “That sounds an awful lot like a challenge, Buck,” 

His lips curved at that, and you had a feeling he liked the sound of the shortened version of his nickname coming from your mouth. “It is,” he said back, shifting on top of you and making you wince as his cock moved from its place still inside of you. “A challenge I can’t fucking wait to try over and over again.”

A blush took over you once more, and you quickly hid it from him as you pulled him down into another kiss, and this one wasn’t broken for a long time afterwards.

It had been a few weeks since you and Bucky first had sex, and it’s been a few weeks since you’d been trying to one up your first time together. As you’d both found out, it only got better with every attempt. 

You and he finally put a label on your relationship after that night, and tonight is the night Brittany gets to meet the man who had taken all your past experiences with other men and completely rewrote them. 

The bar you were meeting at wasn’t far from your place, so you ended up walking there. You knew Bucky would probably be spending the night at your place again tonight, so you didn’t worry about the walk back home after having a few drinks. 

You, Brittany and Garret were currently sitting in the booth tucked away in the back corner, the one furthest away from the speakers so you could actually talk to each other and hear what the other person was saying. 

You’d only been here for around ten minutes and had taken it upon yourself to order the same beer Bucky had ordered on yours and his first date for him, and it was sitting on the table next to your own untouched drink. 

Just as Brittany was about to dive into another rant about her opinion on the latest, shitty reality TV show that had come out on Netflix, the door to the bar swung open, and you barely had time to look over your shoulder before you heard footsteps heading in your direction. 

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice met your ears, and it instantly had you smiling as you turned to look up at him. “I’m sorry I’m late, I had trouble getting here.” he said, beginning to shrug out of his jacket. 

“Did you order Uber Share again?” you asked with a teasing smile, and Bucky playfully glared at you before sitting down next to you in the booth. 

“What is she talking about?” Brittany asked, and Bucky shot you another glare before smiling over at her. 

“Just an inside joke,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “You’re Brittany, right? Her best friend and co-worker?” 

Brittany lifted a brow, her eyes darting between you and Bucky before she allowed him to shake her hand. “That’s right,” she said, “And this is my husband, Garret, who I’m counting on you to hit it off with so we can go on more double dates now that our girl finally found herself a man.”

You blushed at that, finally taking a sip of your drink. 

“No pressure,” Garret laughed, then shook Bucky’s hand as well. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Bucky said before picking up the beer you slid in his direction. “Thank you.” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. 

Brittany smirked over at you, mouthing ‘I like him’ before quickly relaxing her face when Bucky looked over at her. 

It was safe to say that Bucky and Garret hit it off as they were already making plans to get together one night for beers, burgers and football. He also hit it off with Brittany, and she gave you her blessing now that she had finally met the guy who’d easily been making you feel flustered since the very first text message. 

After saying goodbye, you and Bucky walked the short distance back to your apartment, and you’d barely made it inside before he was all over you. 

You laughed against his mouth as he shut the door behind him, nearly tripping over the table you had next to the front hall closet. “Wait,” you said, breaking away from his mouth. 

Bucky furrowed his brows, and he looked unbelievably hot with flushed cheeks from the three beers he’d drank tonight. “What?”

You pushed on his chest when he tried to kiss you again. “Let me see your phone,”

His brows furrowed further before he reached into his back pocket and pulled his phone out, handing it to you. You smiled down at his lockscreen, it being a picture of Alpine laying on her back on his lap, and put in the password you’d set for him a few days ago. 

It was your birthday, as per his request. 

You swiped through his apps before finding the Tinder icon, and you clicked on it. “What are you… oh, fuck,” he said, looking at you with wide eyes. “I meant to delete that a long time ago. I haven’t been on it since I met you, I swear.”

That was proven since the last message he sent on that app was from a month and a half ago, and it was the same one he’d sent to you when he was ‘late’ for your first date. “I know. It’s okay, I haven’t deleted it off my phone either,” you said, then pulled up his profile. 

You held his phone in one hand while you pulled out your own, and you quickly clicked on the Tinder icon before going onto your profile. “What are you doing?” Bucky asked, taking your phone from you when you held it out to him. 

“We’re deleting our accounts. Together,” you said and watched his eyes dart down to your phone screen, the red prompt outlining the permanent deletion of your account starting back up at him. 

He huffed out a laugh. “Oh,” he said, then his thumb instantly clicked the button, and you scrambled to do the same on his phone. Once both your accounts were deleted, the app itself followed quickly after, and then you were both tossing your phones onto the couch before he picked you up in his arms and carried you to your bedroom, this time knowing exactly where it is.

“You okay?”

“Mhm, just want a kiss, please,” you sit up, smiling all sweet and pretty at him, he can’t refuse. His hand gently cups your jaw as he presses his lips against yours, the two of you moulding together. Your legs shift ever-so-slightly, one pulling you over his lap, pyjama shorts riding up just an inch, but it’s enough to make his brain freeze up.

“Is this okay?” You ask, watching a flush creep up his neck. He can’t bring himself to answer you, so he nods. You’re too soft. Your skin, your hair, the smell of the coconut body cream you use every evening, he feels overloaded. He also feels heavy, weight rising between his legs as he looks at your face, all innocent like you hadn’t orchestrated every single second of his agony.

The tank top slips off your shoulders, revealing a little cotton bralette, white against sun-kissed skin, and he collapses. Well, not really. But he’s certain that if he was on the floor he would’ve collapsed. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes when you place his hands on your ass, squeezing one for him, muttering something under his breath about disrespecting you.

You chuckle at him, kissing his cheek before kissing his mouth, tongue just about swiping over his mouth to see if he opens, and he does. He’s shy, unsure, but he’s always been a quick learner. Before you can even think he’s sliding his tongue right over yours, licking into your mouth, groaning against you.

You undo your bra, and he gasps. His brain on overtime, thanking every higher power he can name for the blessing that is the beautiful woman draped on his lap like his own personal trophy, tits out and pebbled in the cold air of her apartment. You have to guide his hands again, have to let them grab at your boobs before his brain clicks into place again, thumbs brushing over nipples, watching your mouth as you gasp. He watches your lips fall apart, hears the tiny exhale of air, and feels himself twitch between your legs.

“I don’t wanna fuck this up,” he mumbles, his head dropping against your chest.

“You won’t, hon. I promise. You trust me?” He nods, still not looking at you. “Good. Take your pants off.”

You climb off him, slipping your own shorts off as he rids himself of his tshirt and sweatpants, and settle right back on him when he sits back down. All he can think of is the heat of your body pressed all against him, the sweetness of your nighttime shower routine infiltrating every sense, he would swear to a jury that he’s drowning right now, in long limbs and curly hair and pure body heat.

He’s too caught up in the scent of you, he barely notices the way your hips start to move down against him. He can’t bring himself to look away from the wet patch on your underwear rubbing against the bigger wet patch on his, his mouth open and panting, just a little. His hands find your hips again, dragging you just a little harder, just a little closer, each time, until you can physically feel purple spots forming under his fingertips, groaning at the slightest hint of pain.

You kiss his open mouth, tasting the sweat on his upper lip, but you don’t stop moving, definitely not when his clothed cock is rubbing against your clit just right, and you can feel the warmth in your lower belly. Your hands tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, teeth nibbling on his lip before smoothing over it with your tongue, sliding it into his mouth before he registers anything.

He’s so sweet like this, you think. Sweaty, blushing, all whispered moans and heavy breath, unable to take his hands off you. You don’t have the time to tell him he’s beautiful, that you love him, that you want him to effectively breed you starting now, because he cries out, his head hitting the back of the sofa as warmth seeps between the two of you, his boxers devastated.

“Not,” he pants, “not fair. At all.”

You giggle then, as he lifts his head back up, kissing him like you can’t get enough of his mouth. His fingers pull at your underwear, accidentally ripping them in the process when he forgets his own strength.

“Bucky!”

“Sorry, baby,” he smirks, “We’ll go shopping tomorrow. Just show me how to take care of you first.”

He looks up at you with a reverence you believe no-one has ever seen before. His eyes are glinting, literally sparkling in the lowlight of your living room, hands draped casually over your upper thighs, thumb stroking at the slit of your cunt. He’s not thinking, why would he be if there’s a naked woman — his naked woman — right in front of him? His thumb presses down just a little and you spread your legs wider, letting him touch you properly.

He looks down then. He can’t help but blush, it’s in his nature. He wasn’t sexually advanced in the fourties’, let alone now. Everything’s wet, he thinks, and pink. His forefinger spreads you open, thumb still touching whatever he can see, until he finds the spot that makes you gasp.

“There? Does that feel good?”

You nod, eyes not moving from his fingers, not believing the luck you have watch him touch a woman for what may as well be the first time. His thumb presses harder, just a bit, starting to move in slow circles. You ask him to go lower, just a smidge, and whimper when he does, and you can feel yourself growing slicker.

“Are you always this… wet?”

“Just when we kiss,” you admit, “you can put a finger inside me, you know.”

“Oh. I don’t— what?”

You stifle a laugh at his expense, and show him what you mean. Guiding his finger toward you, dragging it up your slit again, coating it in your wetness, you guide the very tip to your entrance.

“Good, now push.” And so he does. Slowly. Every callous, every scar, every inch of his thick finger dragging up your walls excruciatingly slow, until he reaches knuckle.

“Good,” you breath out, “You’re doing so well, Buck. Just gotta move now, okay? Curl it a little, like if you were— oh.”

His finger drags in and out slowly, curling just a little, dragging right over that spongy little spot inside you, making you moan. You grab at his shoulders, asking him to go faster, to add another finger, to do more. So he does. Like a good boy, the thought echoes in your mind and you save it for later; he’s following every instruction — like a good boy. He adds a second finger, pumping into you, his metal thumb over your clit, aching to hear you gasp again.

And you do, eyes fluttering closed, your brain not computing how fast he’s learning, thighs trembling as he stares straight at your face, committing everything to memory.

“Bucky, I’m—”

“Good, that’s what we want isn’t it? Want you to feel good,” he mumbles back, efforts not ceasing until your body jerks, gushing out around his fingers, collapsing into him. He catches you with one arm, cradling the back of your head when his fingers pull out, covered in you. He doesn’t think about what he’s doing when he brings one to his mouth, licking it like a kid would after getting chocolate everywhere.

“You okay?”

“Yeah! You’re uh, a very fast leaner.”

He smiles at you, wrinkles by his eyes, leaning forward to kiss you again, the faint taste of you all over his tongue. He’s still hard, and you’re still wet, and there’s no stopping your hips from moving against his again.

“Can we, y’know?” He asks, voice quiet, trusting. You nod, cupping his jaw, hand tracing the slightly greying stubble on his face, while the other frees him from his boxers.

He’s big. Not painful-big, but definitely fill-you-up-snug-big. You wrap a hand around him, stroking upward, letting your thumb swipe over the leaking slit, and under the head, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that makes him moan.

Shifting along his lap, rising to your knees, you guide him along your cunt, swiping through all your wetness before pressing the tip inside you. You look at him, eyes meeting yours as you sink down in his, gasping at the stretch. You can feel every ridge, every vein, pushing into you, eyes barely stopping themselves from rolling to the back of your head. You settle down, and he’s biting his lip, fighting every animal instinct he has to just fuck you, trying to let you lead.

You rise up, and sink down, shallow at first, just getting used to having someone inside you again, not taking your eyes off of his beautiful sweaty face.

“If you wanna move, Buck—”

“Don’t wanna hurt you, don’t know what I’m doing,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth.

“Do whatever,” you groan, knees already slightly achey as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead to his. He kisses you, letting his hips thrust up to meet yours, moans pouring out of the both of you, slipping into each other’s mouths. There’s no more talking, just breathy moans and skin slapping against skin as his hips move just a little faster, cock hitting deep inside you.

You’ve stopped moving by now, just draped in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pounds upward, skin damp with sweat. You clench around him, a whine ripping out of you as he shifts himself on the sofa, hitting deeper.

“Shit, sweetheart, you c-can’t do that,” he groans, nipping at your jaw, slightly too hard when you do it again on purpose this time, well aware he’s about to come again. You dig your nails into his shoulder when his thumb rubs at your clit again, chasing your orgasm before his own, your body spasms in his lap, jerking forward again as you moan, wetness pouring out around him that makes him lose all control. Load after load of his come pouring into you, back around him, forming a delicious, depraved, ring of white around the base of his cock as he drags it in and out the last few times, decades of pent up energy unleashed inside your unsuspecting body.

“See? Not so hard,” you pant, kissing him, feeling him soften just a little inside you.