#bartender!Bucky x reader

[duuhrayliegh]

consequences

a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO

also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW

other works

“You want to what?"

"To open our relationship."

You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.

"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."

He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.

"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."

You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.

"I still can't believe he said that to you."

The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.

"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"

The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.

"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."

You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.

"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"

You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.

"Focus on me, Peanut."

Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.

Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.

You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.

“I don’t even know why I���m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.

“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”

Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.

“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”

You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.

“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.

"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."

This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.

"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."

You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.

"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."

There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.

"I call bullshit."

Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.

"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"

Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."

Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.

"You can't bullshit my feelings."

He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.

"Uh, yeah I can."

He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.

"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"

You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.

"I don't know, four months?"

“Four months, twenty days."

Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.

"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."

He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.

"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."

His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.

"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"

"But he--"

"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."

"He didn--"

"Yes, he did."

Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.

"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."

Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.

"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."

You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.

What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--

"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"

"What if we end up not working out?"

"What if we do?"

The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.

"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"

You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.

"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."

Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.

A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.

[buckrecs]

Okay here I am!! Hehe

Bartender bucky?? If you’re still willing to that is<33:)

Bartender!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

My Blood Turns Into Alcohol by @ltbarnes

Bucky Barnes doesn’t step out behind his trusted bar counter, no matter what goes on out on the floor. Until you, that is—the town newbie who stumbles inside the lanky old bar and won’t stop showing up in your pretty dresses and with that shy smile. Bucky is infuriated. Maybe that’s why he won’t let you pay for even one of your drinks, or why his coworkers won’t stop bothering him about you.

Double Blind by @wkemeup

Set up on what might be the worst blind date you’d ever been on, you find yourself captivated by the mysterious bartender instead.

the bar rules by @buckyhoney

pretty by @buckycuddlebuddy

“filthiest i’ve ever made,” he whispered, face very close to yours. “if you can handle it, i might take you up on that ‘convincing’ thing.”

Send Me An Angel by @navybrat817

Bucky thinks you're an angel.

Date With Ducky by @pepperonijem

"You started to water down my drink throughout the night and I drunkenly demand to know why.”

Two Years by @metalbuckaroo

Seeing you flirt with someone else, Bucky gets jealous and acts on something he’s been thinking of for two years.

Rum and Coke by @babyboibucky

You decide to pay your rival club a visit to see what the hype is all about.

Champagne Problems by @dollslayer

When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

side bar by @agentofkrypton

"I hate your voice, but god I love hearing you beg."

Don’t cross the bar by @bucky-at-bedtime

Bucky has one rule, until one day, someone forces him to change it.

Cheers! by @moonbeambucky

A charming bartender comes to your rescue after a night out leads to a broken heart.

[fandoms-writings]

Masterpiece

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: bartender!bucky x college!reader (age gap of 10-ish years)

Word count: a little over 8K (sorryyyyyyy)

Summary: you’ve been dating Bucky for a few months now, and it’s your final art show before you graduate, and he’s excited to see your final piece.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI Bucky (he needs his own warning in this one), pet names (sugar, baby, sir, daddy), alcohol and weed consumption, tiny bit of self doubt from Bucky but it doesn’t last long, he’s head over heels guys, smut at the end, like, detailed smut. If you don’t wish to read it, I’ve put a divider where it starts 😌 fingering, oral (f receiving), Bucky talks a lot in bed, unprotected sex (protect yourself irl please)

A/N: this is my first time like really writing smut so please bare with me but i hope you love it 🫶🏼

If you enjoy the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

Bucky adjusted the cuff of his sleeve around his wrist, fidgeting with the fabric as he glanced at the clock for the thousandth time in the past hour. 

He was meeting you at the final art show of your school before summer -it was your final show. You were graduating in just a couple weeks and he wanted to be by your side for all of it if you'd let him.

Though he didn't know anything about art - other than the fact that he loved watching you paint. You got this look on your face when you were focused and it was as if you were oblivious to anything else going on around you. The way your brows would just slightly crease in the middle as your eyes locked on to the colors you were working with or the canvas set on the easel. Sometimes the tip of your tongue would prod at your bottom lip or at the inside of your cheek while you decided what little details needed more of your attention. 

There had been countless nights of you working on your final pieces for this exhibit being put together by your professor where Bucky got the opportunity to keep you company. You liked to paint in the bar while he worked, using the paints he'd gotten for you for Christmas. He'd come around to the corner that everyone knew was now yours where he'd make you take a much needed break, usually getting you to listen if he had a small plate of food from Sam. You'd usually take that time to ask him what he thought of what you had so far, even though he wasn't sure how much of a help he actually was. 

Most of your paintings were of his regulars and every single one blew him away. But you never let him see the final piece, so he was excited to see tonight what you'd made. 

After clasping his watch around his wrist, Bucky took one last glance at himself in the mirror to make sure he looked alright. 

He hoped he wasn't over dressed in his suit, you hadn't told him exactly what kind of attire he should show up in, other than he needed to dress nice and that he should wear maroon. He'd had Natalia go with him to pick it out - he hadn't needed a suit in years so he didn't exactly have one ready. She'd helped him pick it out but now that he was looking at himself, it felt like too much. 

He wasn't really sure what you saw in him if he was being honest with himself. He was a little over a decade older than you and it showed. He'd started sporting more gray in his beard than he liked to admit and there were permanent wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The smile lines and the frown lines both sunk a little deeper into his cheeks. He preferred a night in, reading a new book, over a night out. 

Maybe I should lose the tie? He thought as studied his appearance. 

He reached up to pull the fabric around his neck loose when there was a knock at the door. 

"Bucky!" Ana's voice filtered through the door, "Are you ready? We've gotta go if we're gonna catch the subway in time!" 

Pulling open his front door, he realized maybe he wasn't too overdressed. Ana was in a baby blue floor length, thin strapped dress with a slit up her thigh, though it didn't look too uncomfortable - in fact, it looked incredibly soft - and a pair of strappy heels. Her girlfriend, Val, was in a pair of pin striped pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of nice white shoes to finish the look. 

"Oh don't you look nice!" Ana claimed after taking in his suit. 

"Really?" He asked, "I feel like it's too much." He looked again in the mirror by the door, tugging at the tie. "Should I forget the tie?" 

She pondered for a moment, looking him up and down, taking in the charcoal black slacks and matching coat, the maroon button up shirt and the black tie around his neck. 

"It depends," She started, "Do you want to look like a businessman? Or do you want to look like a sexy dilf?" 

"I, um, I don't know," He felt his face flush as he stuttered for an answer, "I just don't want to over do it." 

Ana smirked, "Loose the tie, bring the jacket, but don't wear it." 

He nodded before pulling the tie off and shucking the jacket, carrying it over his arm. He grabbed his keys and went to follow them out before Ana's hand popped up in front of his chest. 

"And undo the top button," She declared. "Actually, the top two." 

~

The outside of the building was rather plain in Bucky's opinion. The sunset was reflecting off of the large floor to ceiling windows that were framed in black, and he could see the exhibit all put together on the other side of the glass. 

There were already several people filling the space, but you'd told everyone you'd meet them outside. Bucky watched the crowd pass by on the sidewalk as Ana and Val discussed their plans for tomorrow night. 

He'd never been to something like this. Sure, he'd accompanied you to the art museum, but this was for you. He came to support you specifically and he felt like maybe something was missing now. 

Should I have brought flowers? A gift? He gnawed on the edge of his bottom lip as he looked around. Usually there were vendors out, selling little nick nacks or souvenirs. Really just anything to make a living. And among those was typically a flower cart. But as he looked around, the carts of random items were nowhere to be seen, packed and gone home for the night. 

He let out a disappointed sigh through his nose and turned his attention back to the door right as you walked out. 

His mind stopped working as he saw you, time freezing for him as he took you in. 

You were wearing a beautiful long sleeve dress with a shawl collar, its color split down the middle. The left side was a deep black, the right matching the same maroon as his dress shirt. The waist was cinched in just enough high on your waist to accentuate the curves you already had and the flared hem stopped just below your knees. There were black strappy heels on your feet and your hair was styled perfectly. And to top it off, you were wearing the simple rose gold necklace he'd seen you wear everywhere you went, the jewelry resting on its claimed spot of your collar. 

He didn't take another breath until your eyes landed on him and you gave him that amazing smile of yours, your lips lined in the same deep maroon. You weaved yourself around the people lingering at the front of the building until you stopped just short before him. The heels you were wearing gave you a little bit of height, but he was still taller than you by at least half a head. 

"Hi," You breathed it out as if the sight of him had stolen your breath too.

"Hi," He couldn't stop the corners of his lips from pulling up as he gazed down at you. "You look stunning." 

You didn't fight the grin that took over you as you muttered a 'thanks' and ducked your head. You reached for his arm, setting your hand against it as you looked back up at him, "You don't look too bad yourself." 

Ana clearing her throat had you two whipping your heads to her and Val, "While you do look amazing," She stated with a pointed finger at you, "It's getting chilly out so maybe we can take this love fest inside?" 

Bucky's cheeks flushed and he stifled his laugh as you tried to glare at your roommate while being obviously flustered that you'd walked right past her. You straightened your back and squared your shoulders. 

"Only because you asked so nicely," You bit back. The small venom in your words didn't hold any actual mal intent, and everyone in your group knew that as they laughed. Ana and Val lead the way, holding the door open for you and Bucky.

At the feeling of Bucky's hand resting on the small of your back, you glanced over your shoulder, giving him your small smile again before turning and leading him inside. 

The inside was dark, the walls a dark gray, almost black. Each art piece on display had a warm off-white spotlight shining on it. Bucky expected the space to be louder than it was, just by seeing how many people were here, but he was pleasantly surprised when everyone's conversations were mere murmurs and mumbles as you all passed by, most of them drowned out by the subtle music playing over the speakers.  

You took him on a tour around the gallery, arm in arm and pointing out pieces that were made by your friends. They were all wonderful and amazing pieces, but he really just wanted to see your stuff, but he remained patient while you were stopped by peers and professors from your college along the way, only speaking when you introduced him. This was your night, and he wasn't going to take that away from you by stealing conversations. He also didn't know much about art, only really about how much time and effort went into each piece - thanks to you and Steve - so he wasn't about to pretend he knew what he was talking about. 

Looking ahead to the direction you were leading him before you got stopped again, he could notice one of the paintings he'd watched you paint. You'd been sitting in your chair on the other side of your living room while he was watching a show - well, he was supposed to be watching a show, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 

"Bucky?" Your voice caught his attention again, along with a tug on his sleeve, and he looked over to you. You had a worried look on your face, but the girl who'd stopped you just a moment ago was still there. 

"What, sugar?" He asked. 

"If you're bored, you can go on ahead, it's okay," You were trying not to let too much of any emotion into your voice with how quiet you were being. Something about the way you said it made Bucky think he's not the first person you said that to. But who in their right mind would make you feel like you had to say that? Who would be so disinterested in you before him that now you had the instinct to tell him not to wait for you? It was unacceptable. 

"I'm perfectly fine where I am, don't worry about me," he grinned down at you, trying to ease the sudden anxiety coming off of you in waves. You smiled, letting your shoulder relax as you turned back to your friend Zoe, who could only help but smirk at the two of you. 

"Hey," she said, gaining both of your attention, "My roommates and I are having a small party to celebrate today, you should come. Both of you." 

"Oh, I'd love to, but," You turned to Bucky, "Don't you have to work?" 

"I do," He grinned, "But I can always take off early, meet you there. If you want?" 

"Who would close the bar?" 

"Hey, give Sam some credit, he knows how to close the bar on his own. He's a big boy." 

You laughed at that before turning to Zoe, "We'll be there." 

You went your separate ways, linking your arm with Bucky's and leading him down the hall where your artwork was on display. "You sure you want to party with a bunch of youngsters, old man?" You leaned in and asked, earning a laugh from him before he sighed. 

"Oh, I don't know. I may have doomed myself, huh?" 

"Mhm, probably." You hummed with a giggle before turning him to an open room with statues in the middle, your pieces lining the walls on the other side. 

You knew the second he saw it, almost as soon as you walked in, because he took in a sharp breath, eyes locked on the other side of the room. 

"Whoa," He breathed out, hesitating to take another step closer. Your nerves grew with his sudden change of movements and you couldn't help but squeeze his elbow. 

"You like it?" You asked, and he must've sensed your worries through your voice because he whipped his head to you. 

"This is incredible," He said while pointing at it. 

It was a combination of different sized canvases all painted in his bar, placed strategically across the whole wall. Each one contained a different scene, but they were manipulated just enough to where if you stood at the right angle, they created one large picture. All of his regulars, your friends, his friends who worked with him, all there. In the center was him, with a cocktail shaker in his hands and a smile on his face. 

"What was your theme for this?" He asked, finally walking closer to see all of his favorite faces on the wall. 

"I chose community, family, a support system," You explained, "And you have such a strong one, I couldn't help it." 

"You missed someone, though," He said, his voice dropping in disappointment and you couldn't help it when the smile on your lips fell. 

"What? What do you mean?" You looked from him to the wall, searching the faces for who was missing. You were there often enough that you knew everyone who was a regular. You knew. There was no way you missed anyone. 

"You," He looked at you with an exaggerated pout, "You're not in here." 

You couldn't help the coo that you let slip from your lips and you held in a laugh, "Aw, I'm sorry. I'll have to paint one and fit me in somewhere." 

He smiled at that, "I know where you can go." 

"Oh yeah? Where's that?" You asked as he pulled you close with one hand and looking at the painting, pointed to a spot with his other. 

"Right next to me." 

~

"Bucky!" You called out as you padded down the driveway straight for him. You'd exchanged the dress and heels from earlier for a more comfortable outfit, joggers covering your legs and a loose long sleeved shirt keeping you warm. 

He braced himself, steadying his feet and holding out his arms before you crashed into him. Your giggles flooded his ears as he stumbled backward but held on tight to you, keeping you both from toppling to the ground. 

"Hi, sugar," He chuckled into your hair. You smelled like weed and beer and he could only imagine what he'd been missing as you squoze him to death. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, inhaling and getting one more squeeze in before you pulled away. 

"You always smell so good," You had a half pout on your face as you pulled back, "It's not fair." 

He let out a hearty laugh at that, "How's it not fair?" 

"Because I know there are girls out there that see you at the bar and then get a whiff of your cologne and a look at your face and then they want you, but they can't have you, cause you're mine," You rambled and he laughed, doing his best to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at you calling him yours. 

"I still don't understand how it's not fair to you, but alright." 

"It's not fair because I wanna smell like you all the time," You mumbled before turning and tugging him toward the house. 

"You know all you have to do is ask and that can be arranged, right?" He asked, watching you walk in front of him.You peaked over your shoulder at him with an amused but curious look in your eyes and he smiled. "It's kind of a perk to, ya know, dating me. If you ask, I'll give you anything." 

"Anything, huh?" You cheekily asked as you opened the door to the house, the music spilling out into the garage as you led him inside. 

"Don't make me regret saying that," he chuckled. 

You led him to the kitchen, getting him a drink that you made incredibly strong. To get him caught up is what you claimed it was for. Though by the way your eyes were rimmed red, he'd be right to assume you were more stoned than you were drunk. 

He thought that he'd stand out too much at this party, being a decade older than pretty much everyone there, but all of your college friends were good about including him. Inviting him to play drinking games, roping him into conversations he actually enjoyed, and even offering him what you'd smoked. He'd taken a couple small hits, but he wanted to be able to drive you home later so he kept it light. He'd actually driven for you, and he never really pulled his car out of the garage - it was easier to walk the city. 

He liked being here with you, even if you were on the other side of the room, dancing your heart out with your friends. He got to sit back and watch, reveling in the warmth that spread through his chest - whether it be from the small amount of liquor or from seeing you so happy he wasn't sure - but he'd welcome it regardless. 

He loved seeing you so carefree. Usually, you constantly had your head in your paints and pencils, working on your next piece. And he was so proud of you, don't get him wrong, but he was glad you were letting yourself go, even if it was just for the night. He was sure you'd be right back to it tomorrow - well, maybe in a couple days, he was sure you'd probably have a killer hangover in the morning. 

The music changed and he watched as you stole the blunt from Zoe - though she was too preoccupied to really notice. You waltzed over to him, taking a long drag and then holding it out for him, but he declined and you passed it onto the next person before you placed yourself on his knee, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his free hand around you back, holding you steady as you nuzzled into his neck again. 

"You look good out there, sugar," He muttered so only you would hear, not that anyone here was in their right mind enough to pay attention to the two of you. 

"Mm, it was a good song," You mumbled, raking your fingers through his hair. He'd wanted to cut it a few weeks ago, but you gave him those puppy eyes of yours, claiming that you liked to play with it and tug on it. And who was he to take that from you? So he let it keep growing, and even though he didn't really enjoy having to actually try to get it to lay right, the feeling of your fingers running through it was more than worth it. 

"You ready to get going? Or did you wanna stay longer?" He asked, shifting so he could press his lips to the side of your face. 

You hummed in thought before you slightly pulled away, just enough to get a look at him. 

"What're we going to do when we get home?" You asked and his heart jumped at your words. He loved when you called it home. You still were across the hall, but you were over so often, your things littering his space, it was basically your home too. He loved it. 

"Whatever you want to do," He whispered against your lips before gently closing the distance for a quick kiss, tasting the weed and alcohol on your tongue. 

"Anything?" You asked, and if the way your fingers tightened on his hair didn't tell him what you wanted, the fiery look in your eyes sure did - the sparks there igniting the fire in his own body. 

"I said anything, didn't I?" He asked with a smirk and you smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

"We should get going then," You muttered before placing a heated kiss upon his lips. It only lasted a moment before you jumped up from his lap and he leaned to try to keep your lips on his. "Let me say bye first, kay?"

"Alright, sugar, I'll be here when you're ready." He watched you saunter off to your friends, getting lost in the crowd as he adjusted his suddenly too tight pants. 

"Isn't she a little young for you?" A voice asked to Bucky's left and he turned his head with a scowl on his face. 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked. The man - boy, really - next to him smirked. 

"Name's Flash," He cockily said, his nose tipped up in the air. 

"What's it to you?" Bucky asked, taking the last swig of his beer, and setting down the bottle a little harder than he meant to. 

"Well, shouldn't she be with someone a little more her age?" Flash asked and Bucky huffed a laugh before standing to his full height, watching as Flash's eyes widened once he towered over the boy. 

"Maybe she would be if boys your age knew how to treat her." He turned at the sound of your voice getting close and found you trotting up to him. 

"Ready?" You asked, a large smile on your face. He smiled, leaning down, pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You let out the tiniest whine and he smiled against your lips before backing away. He peaked over his shoulder at Flash whose face was red as a cherry. 

"I'm ready, sugar. Let's go home," He turned back to you, offering his elbow for you to take, reveling in the feeling of your delicate grasp on his skin. 

Regardless of how he handled that situation, he couldn't help but think about his thoughts earlier that day. What did you see in him? 

He glanced at you, walking beside him to his car. You were rambling about something, but in your drug induced state, not much of it made sense to him. He helped you into the passenger seat before making his way around the front to climb in the driver's side. When he got the car started, he noticed you'd gone quiet and you were staring at him, your lids half closed in your relaxed demeanor. 

He chuckled and started the car, "What're you lookin at?" 

"You," You drawled out, reaching over to wrap your hand around his bicep and laying your head there, never looking away. 

"What're you doin that for, huh?" He looked to the road, pulling out of the parking spot and starting the way home. Your fingers trailed across his chest, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake that crawled throughout his entire body. 

"Cause I can, and I like lookin' at you," You lazily slurred, pressing your lips to the skin of his arm. "You're handsome," You muttered into his skin before tilting your head up again, "and sexy." 

"Mm, I'm not too old for you?" He asked, keeping his tone light. He knew you'd already talked about this exact thing, back during christmas, but Flash's comment was seared in his head. 

You sat up, your brows scrunched as your intense gaze burned a hole in the side of his face. 

"What did Flash say to you?" You demanded and he couldn't help the upward movement of his brows. 

"How did you know?" He asked, stopping at the red light and turning to you, the red glow against your skin making you look ethereal in your sudden frustration. 

"Because he's an asshole and can't keep his mouth shut or his opinions to himself." You stated, "What did he say?"

He sighed, looking to the road, watching the light. "He made a comment about how you're too young for me." 

The light turned green and he slowly went through the intersection as you sighed. 

"If you were too old for me, I wouldn't be with you," You stated. He glanced between you and the road, seeing nothing but sincerity in your face and he smiled. 

"Yeah?" He asked, "You aren't scared of being seen with an old man like me?" 

You laughed at that, "You aren't that old!" 

"Oh, c'mon! I've got gray hairs already!" He laughed back, getting more giggles from you in return. 

"I like the gray hairs!" You collected yourself before leaning in, your hand on his leg making him jump and almost swerve the car. Your lips brushed against his ear as your fingers moved along his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he really wanted you earlier. "Plus, you actually know what you're doing when you fuck me." 

He swallowed as he tilted his head to make room for your lips on his neck. You weren't usually this forward, but oh man was he loving it. 

"If you don't stop, I'm gonna have to pull the car over and deal with you in the back seat," He gruffly muttered as you lips sucked on that spot on his neck. 

"Mm," you let go of his neck, "Maybe I want you to." He stopped at the next red light and turned to face you, seeing that spark from earlier back in your eyes and he groaned. 

"You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that?"

You giggled and bit your lip, dragging your teeth in the enticing way that you do and he knew he was done for.

"You did say we could do anything I wanted," You whispered, your hand squeezing his thigh again and he shook his head. 

"I did say that, didn't I?" He laughed at your giggle and when the glow against your skin turned green he took off. 

"How about, if you're good till we get home, I'll do that thing you like," He suggested, noticing how your thighs clenched in your seat and your hand tightened around his leg again. He took a glance at you to see all teasing gone from your features and he knew he had you. 

You silently watched him from your seat, eyes darting over his features to see if he was just toying with you. When he got to the next light and stopped, he turned to you again. 

"Well? You gonna be good, sugar?"

The second he got the door open, Bucky pulled you inside, closing the door and locking it as he pressed you against it, molding your lips together. 

With the promise of doing what you loved, you held yourself together on the way home and you were good, so he was going to keep his end of the deal. 

He threw his keys to the counter, hoping they didn't knock anything down as one of his hands gripped the side of your neck and his other wrapped around your waist. He dragged his teeth along your bottom lip, pulling a whine from your throat as he did so and he couldn't help the groan that shook his chest. 

He let go of your neck, tapping your butt with his hands, telling you to jump. You'd done this dance so many times it was like second nature catching your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he could take you to the bed. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands as he walked you to the bed, gently laying you down. He untangled your legs from around him and tried to pull himself away from your grasp, chuckling at your whines of protest. 

"Hold on, sugar," He muttered against your lips before you finally let him go. He stood, bringing each of your legs up so he could pull off your shoes, throwing them to the corner of the room. He felt you tug on the hem of his shirt and he smirked at you. "C'mon now, you know the rules." 

You put on a fake pout and tugged on it again, "Come back." 

He grinned at you, "How do good girls ask?" You narrowed your eyes at him before quickly sitting up to grab his collar, pulling him back down with you and pressing your lips to his again. 

"Please," You whispered in his mouth and he couldn't help the chuckle he let out, getting a giggle from you in return. 

"You're a brat," he said into your skin as he moved to your neck, dragging his lips across the spot where your neck met your shoulder, another sinful whine filling his ears, driving him mad. 

"You like it though," Came your breathy reply. He sat up, holding the hem of your shirt and looking at your face. You were already gone, lost in the moment and he tugged on the fabric to gain your attention. 

"Can I?" He asked and you rolled your eyes, a lazy smile growing on your swollen lips. 

"You know you don't have to ask, anymore," You claimed as you arched your back to help him take your shirt off. 

"I know, but it's the gentlemanly thing to do," he leaned down, tracing kisses down your sternum, and nipping at the flesh of each of your breasts. He reached behind you, pinching the clasp of your bra to open it, pulling it forward and dragging the straps down your arms before tossing it anywhere else. 

"I don't know why you wear that thing," he muttered, moving from one to the other, his breath leaving a hot trail across your skin. He watched as your skin prickled with goosebumps and he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face, "It can't be comfortable." 

You giggled when he dragged his scruff across your side, "I'm not explaining it again."

"Fine," he softly bit down on your hip, "keep my girls locked up and away from me, why don't you?" 

"Your girls?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him and whining when he looked up at you through his lashes, refusing to let go of your skin before he was sure there would be a mark there in the morning.

"Yeah, my girls," He declared, reaching up with his left hand to gently squeeze your breast, "They're mine, aren't they?" He reached around your leg with his other hand and grabbed your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he crawled back up to you. 

Your hands came up from the bed and tugged his shirt up, ignoring his question. He sat back, pulling the offending fabric over his head and he went to throw it but remembered earlier and he looked at you before holding it out to you. 

"You like how I smell right?" He asked, and at your shy nod, he set the shirt against your skin, "You keep that, and when it doesn't smell like me anymore, I'll give you a new one. How's that sound?" 

You giggled at him, shaking your head but gently pulling it to hide your face, "Okay." 

"You can't use it to hide from me though," he pulled it from your face, crowding you again and dragging his nose across your cheek, "That's not fair." 

You leaned up, pulling his lips down to yours and tossing the shirt to the side. He rested the weight of his hips on you and groaned when you thrusted up, pressing on him in the best way. 

"You owe me," You whispered against his lips and he chuckled. 

"I know, sugar, I promised, didn't I?" He pulled back, sliding his fingers into the waistband of your joggers, "Have I ever broken a promise to you?" 

You shook your head as you leaned up on your elbows, watching as he leaned down and traced the lines of your legs with his mouth, following the descending pants. Once he threw those god knows where on the floor - he'd find them for you in the morning - he shuffled so he could lay between your legs, pressing an open mouth kiss to your clit through your panties. A groan shook through you as your hips tried to follow him when he pulled back. 

"Don't tease me like that," You pouted with a whine, "I was good for you." 

"I know you were," he said the words into the little amount of fabric still covering you, letting his warm breath fan across, driving a shiver up your spine. "You were so good for me, weren't you?" 

You nodded, biting your lip as you watched him, eyes following his fingers as they slipped between you and the fabric before he pulled it back and let it gently snap back at you. When your narrowed eyes snapped to him, he let out a laugh before finally doing what you wanted. 

Once he had that out of the way, he resettled between your legs, wrapping his hands around your thighs and glanced down, a smile growing on his face before he looked up at you again. 

"All this for me?" He asked, leaning his head closer, but when you didn't respond, he froze, his mouth hovering over you, watching you. "Sugar," he drawled, knowing you weren't too far gone to have forgotten the rules - not yet. 

He started this little rule with you when he found out how shy you could get in bed. You'd never been with someone as vocal as he was, and you'd come up with this rule together that if he asked you something, you had to reply.

Huffing a breath out, you finally responded, your voice barely there, "Yes." 

"Good girl," He smirked before dragging his tongue through your folds, groaning when the taste of you hit his tongue. He watched as your jaw went slack when he got to the top, latched his lips around your bundle of nerves and gave it the tiniest suck. A low groan crawled it's way out of your throat as he refused to look anywhere but at you. 

He only pulled his tongue off you for a moment, to angle himself back down before this time fully attaching himself to you, burying himself in you. He held your thighs, gripping them as they tried to flex around his head. Normally, he'd be perfectly fine with it, having your legs wrapped around his head, but he wanted tonight he wanted to hear you. 

It was like this room became his church, you were his deity, and your moans and cries were the choir, reverberating off the walls and flooding his senses as he recited his prayers between your legs. 

He noticed your arms shaking from holding yourself up and released one of your legs, reaching up to press the palm of his hand against your chest, gently pushing you down. "Relax, sugar, let me take care of you, yeah?" He muttered against your folds, groaning into you when you whined, pressing your hips into him. 

He could stay there forever, with your legs over his shoulders, his tongue playing with your center, the taste and sound and smell of you completely taking him over. Your fingers found their place in his hair once again and tugged on the strands, earning another groan from him as he buried it between your fold, sending the vibrations through you. 

He adjusted his arm over you to lay across your stomach, holding your hips down as his other one released your thigh and moved to join his mouth, his fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking into you with ease. 

The gasp you let out made him dizzy as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, slowly dragging the pads of his middle and ring fingers along your walls, in search of that spot. 

He knew he found it once you mewled out his name, oh James, and he felt the spongy spot, pressing down on it, your legs clamping around his head. It's not like you didn't call him James in other situations, but there was something about the way you sang it here, in his bed, that made a shiver run through his spine, the ego boost it carried going straight to his head. 

“Right there, sugar?” He smirked against your skin, not giving you a moment to respond before he reattached his mouth to you, pumping his fingers in time with his tongue rolling against your clit, the pads of his two fingers brushing against that spot over and over and over. 

Spurred on by your chants of oh god, right there James, please, please don’t stop, he worked in tandem with the rhythm your hips had chosen. He knew you were close by the way your walls fluttered around his knuckles and the certain way you scratched his arm as it held your hips stiller than you wanted them. 

Without removing his fingers, he pulled his lips off of you, releasing your hips and reaching to catch your hands, holding them both to your stomach as he pulled himself up just enough to be above your chest. You were watching him with glazed over eyes, your lips parted and your chest heaving as he leaned his head down to catch one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it before grazing his teeth over it. You whined when he released it, but immediately let out a loud moan when he caught the other one, doing the same thing to it. 

"James," you gasped out, "I'm close." 

"Oh sugar, I know. I can feel your walls fluttering," He said as he leaned up to hover his mouth over yours, "Do you wanna cum on my fingers and my tongue, or do you wanna cum on my cock, hm?" He knew you hated when he made you choose like this, as if your brain was clear enough to make a decision. You did your best to look angry at him, but with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you, you couldn't keep the facade up longer than a moment before you moaned again. 

"C'mon, sugar, tell me," His lips brushed against your lips, "Tell me what you want." 

Your panting breaths were fanning against his lips as you fought off your climax, finally giving him an answer. "I want both," You mewled out. 

"Both?" He asked as he moved back down, "You're greedy tonight, aren't you?" 

He didn't know where it came from, the name that rang in his ears, nor did he expect it to have the effect on him that it did. But when the words please, daddy fell from your lips like a prayer - a prayer only he could answer - his brain short circuited. 

You'd never called him that before - hell, he'd never been called that before but by the way he was now painfully erect and he was having trouble holding himself back - he wanted to see what other names he could pull from you. What else would you call him while so lost in what he was doing to you that you didn't even notice what you'd let slip. 

"Fuck. Say that again," He gruffly demanded, holding himself above your core.

It was the fact that you didn't even hesitate before please daddy, don't stop, fell from your lips that had him devouring you like he was a starving man, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You tried to snap your legs around his head but he wrapped his arms around the backs of your thighs to hold them open. 

It wasn't long before he had you falling apart on his tongue with a shout of his name, drinking down everything you had to offer and helping you ride out your orgasm before he finally let you go. He crawled his way up your body, dragging his lips across your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, leaving a wet trail up until he reached your mouth, crashing his lips to yours. 

Your hands flew up to grab his face, pulling him as close as you could get him. He prodded your lips with his tongue, all but begging for entry. When you granted it to him and tasted yourself on him, you let out a long whine. 

Your hands left his face and reached for his belt, tugging on the leather strap. He chuckled at you, "So impatient," before he stood from the bed and finished pulling his layers off.

Reaching for your legs, he made sure he had a good grip on you before slowly pulling you to the edge of the bed where he rested the underside of his cock against your soaked folds, groaning with his head thrown back as you reached up to drag your nails down the skin of his chest. 

Bringing his head back down, he pulled your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, as he told you to be good and hold them there. Your legs were shaking in protest, but you did as he asked, bringing a smirk to his face as he reached for the side of your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb before grinding himself down on you. 

He watched your eyes flutter as you fought to keep them open, trying to keep your eyes on him as he stroked himself over you, the head brushing against your clit. 

"Don't tease me," You whined out, your grabbing hands growing more desperate to get more of him touching you. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours, in any way he'd offer it. "Please."

He gave the side of your neck the smallest squeeze, watching as you reveled in the pressure, your eyes almost completely closing. "Please what?" 

He thought you were going to respond with the same name from earlier, he was silently praying for it to tumble from your lips again, but what you said was so much better. 

"Please, sir," You all but cried for him and he couldn't ignore the neediness in your voice, even if he wanted to take a minute to just bask in your attention and the names you called him. 

"I got you, baby," He said, pulling away from you just enough to angle himself at your entrance, holding himself back from slamming into you in one go. He knew how sensitive you could get and wanted to make sure you would be okay before he had his way with you. 

"Oh, sugar," he groaned out, squeezing your neck again, "You're always so warm." His breath faltered when you raised your hips, pushing him further into you. Your legs tightened around his hips, pulling him even deeper and he let go of your neck, moving to feel any of your skin he could reach, squeezing everything he could in his hands as he slowly started pumping in and out.

You sighed, finally having the friction you needed, dropping your hands to where his had stopped on your hips. He collected your hands in his own, bringing them together over your stomach and holding both of them in his left while his right one reached down, this thumb pressing slow circles of your clit and earning a sinful moan from you. 

God, he loved being in you, but he wanted more - needed more. He brought your hands over your head, pinning them to the mattress as he crawled over you, angling your hips up to rest on his thighs, going as deep as he could - and by the sounds that escaped your throat, he could tell he was in the perfect spot for you. 

He rocked into you, finding the rhythm that made you cock-drunk and hitting that little spot for you every time. Your pleas filled his head please, right there, oh god right there, don't stop and he swore he could get off on your voice alone as it sang for him. 

He released your hands, grabbing both of your hips to pull them to meet his thrusts, refusing to take his eyes off of you as you cried out for him, each of his thrust earning a louder and louder cry. He would watch you like this all day if the world let him, it was one of his favorite views. But there was one more that he loved just a little bit more. 

He slowed down, slowly dragging himself through your walls and you whined again, moving to reach for him but his voice stopped you. 

"You wanna ride me, sugar?" He asked, smirking when your eyes flew open with determination. He knew you loved it as much as he did when you rode him - possibly even more if he was being honest. 

You nodded your head, wincing when he pulled out of you to crawl up the bed, resting his back against the pillows in front of the headboard. Holding his hands out for you, he helped keep you steady as you took your place over him, sinking back down on to him, the gasp you let out making him twitch in you. 

"C'mon, baby, I wanna see you cum again," He said, releasing your hands once you were fully seated and moving to hold your hips again. Your hands grasped at his chest, scratching his skin as you began to rock yourself. 

It only took a second for you to find your rhythm, your fingers moving along his skin up to his hair and pulling him up to your neck where he sucked on the skin there. He wrapped one of his arms around your back, holding you to him as the noises you let out made him dizzy with need. 

"Jamie, please," You panted, pulling his head back and he knew what you were asking for. He nodded, leaning back and planting his feet on the mattress before thrusting up, meeting your own movements at the perfect angle. 

Your hands landed on his stomach to hold yourself up as he held your hips, pulling you down on to him. He knew you were close again by the pitch of your moans and moved his thumb to stroke your clit again. 

"C'mon baby, give it to me, let me see it," He urged you on and you shook your head, refusing to stop. 

"You first," You squeaked out and he smirked. 

"I'm right behind you, I promise," He moaned, squeezing your hip when you slightly changed the angle, the pressure low in his belly growing and growing. 

"Let go for me, please sugar, let go," he begged, putting just enough pressure behind his thumb to drive you over the edge. 

You cried out as you fell forward, barely catching yourself and it only took him one, two, three more thrusts with your walls fluttering around him for him to follow you over that edge, the white hot pleasure flooding his system as he wrapped his arms around you and held you to him in a death grip. 

Neither of you moved for a while after, catching your breath as your muscles spasmed before relaxing. When he finally calmed down, he reached his hand up to rest on your head and you nuzzled into his neck. He turned his head as much as he could to place his lips against your temple, whispering promises of a love he never intended on breaking. 

The feeling of your lips against his skin stretching into a smile made him sigh, but it was the returned promise of I love you too, Jamie that stole his breath away. 

The warmth that spread through his chest was a welcome one, and he knew that no matter how many times you told him that, his heart would always have that same reaction. 

And he couldn't wait to feel it again. 

As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications @remis-library

[navybrat817]

Send Me an Angel

Pairing: Soft Dark Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you're an angel. Word Count: Over 1.8k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, Dubcon/NonCon elements (you are responsible for your own media consumption) dirty talk, kidnapping, beginning stages of stockholm syndrome, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: My entry for @the-slumberparty 's I Spy Challenge. I've included all three prompts in some way. Happy to get back into the soft dark pool! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, Bucky edit by the incredible Nix, banner by the wonderful @sgt-seabass , and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

It was early morning when you woke up alone in Bucky's bed. You only knew that based on the time from the clock on the nightstand since he had blackout curtains. You groggily wiped at your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more as you turned on the lamp. Caffeine would help if you had any.

Maybe you could convince him to bring you a drink if you asked nicely.

"Bucky?" you called out, your voice cracking as you began to sit up.

It took you a moment to remember that he wouldn't exactly hear you even if you yelled.

The familiar ache between your thighs stopped you from sitting up completely, the memory of the previous night imprinted in your mind. And every night since you went on your first date with the handsome bartender. While you had a feeling he'd be amazing in bed the moment you laid eyes on him, you underestimated his stamina.

Like the morning after.

You always felt a bit vulnerable when you showered, your guard down more than normal. It shouldn't have surprised you when Bucky joined you, but you still shrieked when he pressed you against the wall. You were sure you would've fallen if his firm grip hadn't kept you propped up.

"Round two and three weren't enough?" you teased as he traced the water droplets on your skin with his tongue.

"It'll never be enough," he answered, leaving a small bite on your collarbone. "I can't help myself."

"Bucky, I need to finish up and go," you moaned as he moved his hands to your ass, your traitorous body not putting up much of a fight.

"So perfect for me," he groaned against your neck, like he hadn't heard you. "You can take me again. I know you can. Just give me one more."

You did. You took all of him, just like he said you would. Like a good girl.

The sick thing was that part of you craved it.

Your heartbeat quickened at the sound of footsteps outside of the door. You learned that Bucky could be silent if he wished, so the deliberate sounds meant he wanted you to know he was there. It was considerate.

Or was it just a way to show that he was in control?

"Morning," Bucky said as he opened the door with a sheepish smile. "Sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I wanted to surprise you."

You told yourself to smile back when he held up a small bouquet. Red camellias. The same flowers he gave you when he took you out to dinner. He even wore the same leather jacket he was wearing now.

How long ago had it been since he took you out?

You were losing track of the days.

"Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you."

His smile widened, pleased by your reaction. "I know it isn't a diamond necklace, but I thought you'd like them. They reminded me of our first date."

"I remember," you nodded.

You watched as he walked over to the nightstand and set the flowers down. He shrugged his jacket off a moment later and tossed it on the recliner in the corner. He liked to sit in it some days to read.

Or watch you.

Whatever particular mood he was in.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked as he sat on the bed beside you.

"Just fine," you smiled, bringing a finger up to trace the tattoo on his neck.

Bucky Barnes had to be one of the most handsome men to ever grace this earth. Well over six feet tall with a buff frame and a glare that could kill, he seemed more suited to be a bouncer than a bartender. The tattoos and nose piercing added to his appeal. But it was his icy blue eyes that nearly made you spill your drink when he handed it to you.

Thankfully you recovered enough to grab a seat on an empty stool and flirt with him.

You didn't know it would change everything.

"Keep touching me like that and I'll have to ruin you."

"We can't have that," you joked.

"Why not?" he asked, taking your hand before you could pull it away. He looked into your eyes as he brought it to his mouth. Instead of kissing the top of it, he turned and brushed his lips on the inside of your wrist. "Your heart is racing."

"That's what you do to me," you said truthfully.

Out of lust. Fear. Both.

"That's what you do to me, too," he said.

To prove his point, he placed your hand on his chest.

You knew it beat for you.

"Did I tell you that meeting you changed my life?" he asked.

"It did?" you replied, even though you already knew.

You searched his expression anyway when he smiled. When you spotted him that first night at the bar, his grin appeared forced when he helped other customers. It never quite reached his eyes. He told you over dinner that it was a show for others, a mask to hide how he really felt.

With you, he showed a genuine smile and softer side.

One you believed you could trust.

"I wasn't in a good place. It's hard to explain, but I felt like I was drifting through my life," he began, moving his hand to tuck the sheet around your body more. You weren't sure when you began to tremble, but of course he noticed. He didn't miss a thing. "I was actually close to quitting the bar and leaving town when you walked up and ordered a drink. I wanted to ask you out right away, but I didn't want to seem like a creep."

He chuckled and ran a hand through his short, dark hair. You found excuses to go back to the bar more often and it still took him weeks to ask you out. You thought he was being a gentleman.

"I'm sorry you weren't in a good place," you said.

"Don't apologize. This path in life led me to you and I'll tell you more about it one day," he smiled, sliding his hand over the sheet until he stopped at your hip. "You know, girls have hit on me, even a few guys, but no one got my attention the way you did."

His insatiable nature told you as much.

"And your kindness. How you listened to me. Wanted to know me," he continued, a dreamy look taking over his features. "You showed me that angels exist."

Listening to Bucky was easy. He didn't brag about anything to try and impress you. When he spoke, you knew it came from the heart. Who wouldn't want to know him more?

Especially when he seemed so eager to know you?

"I'm not an angel," you stated.

You sucked in a breath when he gripped your chin. You didn't see him move. He was so quick. Always faster than you.

Stronger.

"You must be an angel because you saved me."

If I saved you, why am I damned?

"Isn't that what angels do? They save people, right?" he asked rhetorically. "Bring them joy? Hope? Love?"

"Love?" you whispered.

Is this love?

"Love," he smiled, releasing your chin. "An angel leading me straight to heaven. That's what it feels like when I'm inside you. Fucking paradise. My warm, wet paradise."

It stunned you enough to stay silent when he bent down to kiss your forehead, your walls clenching around nothing.

Why were you reacting to him?

"But I'm selfish," he admitted against your skin as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. "Because you're my angel and I can't share you with anyone else."

"So you still won't let me go?" you asked evenly.

With a sigh, he pushed himself and moved to the end of the bed. He carefully moved the sheet to expose your ankle and check the cuff. You weren't sure if he was inspecting to make sure you weren't injured or to make sure you hadn't tried to tamper with it.

Bucky convinced you to go back to bed after he had you in the shower that fateful morning. He even sweet talked you into letting him cuff you before he split you open on his cock. When you reminded him that you had to work, once you could talk again, he said he already took care of it.

You hadn't left his place since.

Maybe if you had been thinking with your head instead of your pussy, you wouldn't be his prisoner.

"You know I can't do that," he said above a whisper, tilting his head a fraction and covering your ankle again.

You didn't shrink back when his gaze settled on you, as much as you wanted to. You shouldn't have asked that. All things considered, he took care of you. The chain was long enough that you could reach the bathroom. He kept the place warm. There was plenty of food for you.

No weapons were within reach though. The lamp and clock were bolted to the table so you couldn't hit him with them. If he had neighbors, they didn't hear your cries for help. He promised he would always know if you were in danger since he had cameras set up.

That was why it took him weeks to ask you out.

He was preparing for you.

Was anyone even looking for you?

"But Bucky-"

"Don't. You're not leaving me," he snapped, pulling away the sheet he had carefully tucked around you moments ago. "This is your home now and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and happy."

Except give you your freedom.

What happened to you, Bucky? What demons plagued you so much that you think you have to keep me here?

"I'm sorry," you said immediately as his eyes raked over your naked body.

"You don't even like the flowers, do you?" he asked in a small voice.

"I love the flowers. Really," you promised. A bright spot in a dark place. "Maybe we can even recreate our date right here at home. What do you think?"

He considered your words as you gave him a hopeful smile. He hadn't hurt you and you wanted to keep it that way. If he was happy, you could be happy.

Wait. Why did you just think that?

"We can," he agreed in a husky tone as he stood up and unbuckled his belt. "But for now, let's recreate the end of our date. I need to make my angel feel good."

You blinked away tears as you opened your legs without being told. If you really were an angel, why couldn't you fly away? Why did you let him clip your wings?

And why weren't you fighting harder to get out of the cage he put you in?

Poor thing. Bucky will take care of you, right? Maybe we'll see down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bigtreefest]

Outta Nowhere AU

Main Masterlist

How the chapters line up

Decks vs. Honeybee reader distinctions

You Catch More Bees With Honey

(Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader)

Handiwork

(Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader)

The Rainmaker

(Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader)

[howlingscarlet]

This went from sexy to sweet real quick and I love it.

Bellllaaaaa hiiii:)

I’m hooked on biker/bartender bucky(even tattoo artist bucky) with fucking Tats right now and I’d totally love if you could maybe write him and chubby/plus sized reader having a flirty relationship, maybe they’re like a fling or something. She works at his bar/tattoo shop, whichever au you pick, and they’re just fucking flirty and so naughty together lol

Smut is always welcomed!!

Thank u bby in advance<3 mwahhh🥺💋

about how it started..

pairing: bartender!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. pining. flirting. smut. a little tiny hint of voyeurism/exhibitionism. if i’m missing something pls lmk!

words: 3.1k

notes: thank you, mickey, for sending this and sorry it took so long! i kind of wanted to incorporate more mention of his tattoos but i felt like i kept screwing it up so i kept it very vague - i’m sorry. but i hope you like this! i really love the idea and i’d love to do more with them in the future, too (including more of his tattoos too 🥴), so thank you, thank you, thank you!! 🥰

also this gif isn’t necessarily the bucky i was picturing but the visible tattoo feels right so whatever 😌

i hope you guys enjoy this! thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. as always, feedback and comments are always welcome and so appreciated! 🖤

You know you should be checking tables right now. You know. But goddamn if you can’t take your eyes off of the brawny, blue eyed, six foot something beauty that is Bucky Barnes.

You’re leaning against the far end of the bar, eyes fixed on him with no plans of trailing anywhere else.

He’s making another Sex on the Beach for the less than subtle, leggy, bleach blonde who’s been fawning over him since she got here. When she and the other college girls showed up, seeming to have already been pregaming, you knew tonight wouldn’t be uneventful.

You could obsess over the fact that the twenty one year old, who looked like she stepped right off a runway, was currently pushing her chest out and twirling her perfectly styled hair as she continued rambling on and on to Bucky, but his disinterest was clear to you as he kept a polite smile and entertained her as he finished the drink.

That, and because you had no right or reason to obsess over who was flirting with him and when.

Right?

You pushed the thoughts away as you admired Bucky’s profile. The way some of his hair had fallen out of his bun and hung around his perfectly sculpted face. How his brilliantly blue eyes shone still through the dark strands. And god did you envy his perfectly shaped nose. Your eyes fell to his lips as he smiled at something the girl said, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care, you were so caught up in the beauty of it. He gave her the drink before he tucked the loose hair behind his ears.

You watched as the girl held out a twenty with a sultry smile and a wink before Bucky took it with a small laugh as she sauntered off back to her friends.

He put it in the cash box and then pushed up his sleeves as he took the time to count out how much the bar had made so far tonight.

You swear your mouth went dry as his tattoos were on display now. The dark ink that told story after story lining his forearm, and though you couldn’t see them right now, led all the way up his strong arm only added to the endless list of things that made him attractive. The artwork was mesmerizing. Just like him.

“You just gonna stare at me your whole shift, sweetheart?” he says to you without looking over, a smirk playing on his lips.

You take in a breath before pushing off the bar and walk over to meet him where he stands.

“Who says I was staring at you?” you question and lean over just slightly to glance at Torres who was pouring shots at the other end of the bar.

Bucky turns to follow your gaze and gives a laugh when he sees who you’re referring to.

“You and Torres, huh?” he plays along, smirk never faltering. He finishes his count and tucks the box back under the bar before he turns fully to you, blocking your view of the younger man completely, not that you cared.

Bucky walks into you, backing you up until you’re forced into the dead corner of the bar. You nearly stop breathing when he leans into you, his cologne invading your senses, his warmth surrounding you as he keeps you trapped between him and the bar, his thick arms on either side of you. Your lips part on an inaudible gasp when his lips brush against your ear.

“He know I was guts deep inside you last night? How you were screaming my name, begging me not to pull out? So fuckin’ desperate to be full‘a me,” he reminds you as his hands find your waist and he squeezes your softness before pulling you flush against him and letting his hands slide down to your ass. “How many times did you come again? I think I lost count,” he taunts as he leans over you and gropes you shamelessly.

You can see out past his shoulder as he nearly nuzzles into your neck, your eyes growing heavy with desire as your lips stay parted in heated awe.

Your eyes meet the blonde Bucky had just served as she looks on in a bit of a stupor before blinking and turning away with a hint of a blush warming her cheeks.

“Watch it, Barnes. You’re gonna lose out on tips if you’re not careful,” you warn playfully, if not a bit breathily.

When he starts kissing your neck, your knees become unsteady as a warmth starts to grow in your tummy.. and lower. Your hands latch onto the front of his shirt in an effort to stay steady.

You’ve noticed he’s been getting more brazen every day, more teasing and touching when he knows full well people can see, and the fact that he really doesn’t seem to care sparks a bit of hope that maybe this could grow into something more than what it started as.

But as Bucky nips and then gently kisses your pulse point, all thoughts fly right out the window as your main focus is solely on not melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Don’t care,” he says against your delicate skin, placing another kiss to your neck before you push him back just slightly. “What?” he asks as a half smile adorns his face when he stands up straight again, looking down at you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish right now,” you say as you hold his smoldering gaze.

“You think I won’t fuck you right now?” he challenges, his seriousness sending a thrill up your spine.

You let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh as you push him to turn around. “I think you have some patrons waiting for your attention,” you say, ignoring the desire burning deep within at his words.

He sucks his teeth as he walks back over to the lively area of the bar, but not before eyeing you with a look that promises he isn’t done with you tonight.

You watch him back before spinning around and coming out from behind the bar to start checking tables.

—

You’re leaning over a newly emptied table close to the bar when you feel his heavy gaze on you.

The low cut scoop neck of your top already offered a generous view of your cleavage, but as you’re leaning over to wipe the table down, you’re sure he can see right down your shirt. You hide your smirk as you walk around the table and make a show of leaning over once more, your tight black skirt that hugs your tummy riding up your thick thighs as you do. You’d forgone underwear under your opaque black tights and wonder for a second how much he can see as you bend further over the table.

You don’t have much time to wonder as suddenly Bucky is right up behind you. You stand up against him, your ass brushing against his crotch. His hands are on your skirt as he adjusts it back down for you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, voice low and husky.

“Cleaning a table,” you answer innocently as you stay where you are, enjoying the feeling of his large hands on your wide hips and his solid chest at your back.

“Yeah? Cuz from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re purposely being a little tease.”

“Me?” you say in faux offense, turning to face him. “I’d never. Just doing my job, boss.”

He pushes you back against the table just slightly, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t been thinking about how hot it’d be if I came up behind you, ripped your tights open and fucked you stupid right here on this table?”

You swallow hard as you feel yourself growing wet at the scene that plays out in your mind. The bar is near empty as you’re both getting ready to close up but the idea of Bucky taking you right here and now, onlookers be damned, has heat creeping up your skin.

“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” you whisper wantonly, eyes swimming with lust.

A sinful growl escapes him as he presses himself closer to you. You can feel his growing bulge against you and it takes everything in you to not let out the whimper that threatens to slip past your lips.

Joaquin left twenty minutes ago after him and Bucky served last call, so it’s just you two and the lingerers who are slowly making their way out.

“What am I gonna do about it?” he repeats as his hand comes up to hold your chin. He leans down, face to face with you as he continues headily, never taking his eyes off yours, “I’m gonna fuck you stupid. Right here. On this table,” he breathes each sentence before he finally takes your lips in his. It’s gentler than you expect as your eyes flutter shut and the sound of the entrance door closing behind the last patron signals that you’re alone now.

You sigh into his mouth before you pull him closer, the kiss growing more heated with each moment that passes.

You let Bucky ruck up your skirt as your hands fumble with his belt before you start working on his button and zipper. You stop him for just a second, grabbing his hand, “You rip ‘em, you buy ‘em,” you tell him, earning a grin from him.

“Deal,” he says before easily tearing your tights and turning you around, forcing you down against the table.

“No underwear, huh?” he taunts as he rips your tights even more, his thick fingers wasting no time in playing with your wetness on full display for him.

Your legs are spread as you moan at the delightful feeling of his fingers pushing into your sex, opening you up for him as he scissors his fingers inside your tight heat before curling them the way he knows you like.

“Fuck, Bucky, please,” you whine as you clutch onto the table, pushing your hips backs and trying to fuck yourself on his hand.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re perfect,” he swears before landing a stinging slap to your ass and pulling his fingers out. He quickly tugs down his jeans and frees himself from his boxers, his erection hot, heavy, and throbbing.

“Make me so fuckin’ hard, you know that?”

You only mewl in response as he runs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you. He doesn’t have as much patience as he normally does, though. He’s been thinking of you nonstop since you left his apartment this morning. Been wanting you close again from the second you left his bed.

He knows this was just supposed to be a fun fling, but from the first time he kissed you, he knew he was done for. He knew he’d only want more.

And he was right.

He wanted all of it with you, not just sex. He wanted to spend his days cuddling you in his bed, watching movies, talking about nothing; hell, he even had to stop himself from texting you the other day to see if you were busy when he had to go get groceries because he wanted your company.

He was hooked on you completely.

But this “fling” was your idea and he didn’t want to run you off with the idea of commitment so soon. So for now, this would have to do. And who was he to complain about the nights he got to spend flirting with you, teasing you, taking you apart only to put you back together in his arms come morning.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as the head of his cock catches along your slick entrance, a hiss emanating from him as you gasp at the feeling.

He slowly lets himself push in, deeper and deeper until his hips are flush against your ass and he’s filling you completely.

Your soft moans urge him on as he begins to fuck you, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the quiet of the empty bar. As he starts to thrust harder, the squelching noises of your fucking grow louder and louder as you moan without care, your hips hitting the edge of the table over and over with his every thrust.

His hands frame your waist as he holds you tight, rutting ever deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you whine and gasp in pure pleasure, the coil in your belly tightening with each glide of his cock along your walls and every nudge against your g-spot. Bucky slips a hand down and finds your puffy clit, circling it as he feels you getting closer, your walls squeezing him tighter and tighter.

Your toes are curling in your shoes as your feet arch and slip against the floor when the muscles in your legs and core tighten and strain as your walls clench down on his thick cock and your orgasm hits you hard.

In the same instance, Bucky growls as the swinging of the entrance door sounds. You don’t even bother to look up as you’re lost in the euphoria of your high.

“We’re closed,” Bucky barks, his hips never faltering as he continues to fuck you while your eyes screw shut in overwhelming pleasure.

You vaguely hear a fumbling apology and the door closing once more as Bucky buries himself inside of you, leaning over your bent body and rutting into you as his groans and moans tumble heavily from his lips. With one more thrust, you sigh breathily as you feel him spill inside of you.

The weight of his body on top of yours is a comfort you can’t help but revel in as he holds you still and gets all of his release out, your velvety walls milking his cock as he fills you with his hot come.

He’s breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm and gently pulls his cock out of you. You instinctively press your legs together, your thick thighs making it easy. You push yourself up off the table after a moment and turn around, fixing your skirt as you do.

“Fuck,” you breathe under your breath happily. “Maybe lock the door next time?” you suggest playfully, “Or, at least turn the ‘OPEN’ light off.”

“Next time?” Bucky says with a raised brow and a smirk as he fixes his pants. “You like getting fucked in the bar that much?”

“Well, you did say something about fucking me stupid.. And not that that was bad at all, but, I’m not feeling very stupid right now.”

He licks his lips as he takes you in, taking your hands in his and tugging you close. “Why don’t you come home with me and I’ll get you there,” he says smoothly.

“That’d make it three nights in a row,” you say, a little unsure. “You sure you wanna risk it? I might not wanna leave.”

“I might not want you to,” he says, surprising you by how soft and sincere his voice is.

You meet his eye and swear you could drown in the glimmering blues as he smiles that schoolboy smile. You let out a shaky, nervous laugh.

“You fallin’ for me, Barnes?” you tease playfully - just a hint of hope laced in your tone.

He surprises you again as he takes hold of your chin, peering deep into your eyes, before he brushes his nose against your, his lips inches away from your own as you breath each other in for a second.

And then he kisses you.

Soft, yet firm and as you lose yourself in it, a deep yearning for Bucky that you’ve kept down from day one rears her head once more.

You part for a second to breathe before you crash your lips into his again, pulling him closer to you by the front of his shirt.

Your tongues glide against one another as he slips his in expertly before kissing you deeply.

He lets his forehead fall to yours as he parts from you.

You're breathless as he wears a nervous smile you’ve never seen on him before.

“Say I have. What are you gonna do about it?” he repeats your earlier taunt, trying to hide his anxiousness as he waits for you to respond.

You suck your lip as you consider him, biting back the smile threatening to take over your face.

“I’d tell you that, maybe, I’ve fallen for you, too,” you admit shyly, looking up to see his cocksure smile back in full force, just the way it always is.

“Then I’d tell you to take me back to your apartment,” you say, leaning into him for another sultry kiss. “So you can fuck me stupid,” you breathe against his lips, “as many times as you want.”

You nearly squeal as you're taken off your feet in the next second, Bucky’s strong arms holding you securely as you wrap your own around him.

“That I will happily comply with,” he says, kissing you hotly as you smile into it. You pull away just slightly to speak.

“We didn’t finish closing,” you laugh.

“Don't care,” he says, kissing you again as he easily walks to the bar, holding you with surprising ease that you aren’t sure you’ll ever get used to before he sets you down. “We can do it tomorrow,” he excuses, grabbing his keys from behind the bar and flicking the lights out. You grab your jacket and bag from the shelf you kept them on and follow behind Bucky as he locks the doors, escorting you out and to his car.

Before you get there, he turns on you, both of you stopping in your spots.

“We really doing this?” he asks, wanting to make sure this is really what you want, too.

You smile and nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He lets himself smile in return.

“So I can call you mine, now?” he asks, grabbing your hand, pulling you to him.

“I’d be good with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure? Cuz once we make this official, I’m gonna let everyone know. I might never shut up about it.”

You can’t help but laugh at how excited and proud he sounds. “I think I’m okay with that,” you smile up at him, meeting his lips in another kiss before he leads you to the car and opens the door for you to get in.

You know you’re okay with that. It’s what you’d been hoping for from the first time you’d kissed, for this to lead to something real, something more. Now here you were.

He wanted to officially call you his, and Bucky was finally, truly yours.

[notafunkiller]

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

*

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pill?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pill, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

night out

a/n: we back babyyy!!! i haven't been able to stop thinking about these two for fucking months, so i wrote both this aaaaand another part to wrap up their story and get it out of my system.

summary: “I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader x ex!peter parker, light smut, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, bffs kate bishop and yelena belova, french rave, dancing, kissing, over-the-clothes fun, foreplay, references to public sex, choking, manhandling, jealousness, possessiveness, angst, arguments, brat mode activated (though its totally justified), these hoes are not dealing with their emotions in a healthy way but it's just for the sake of yummy drama

word count: 1993

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“I thought we were just going to a cute little wine bar, not a fucking rave,” you yelled over the music as your friends dragged you further into the warehouse. 

“Oh, come on, babe,” Yelena boomed, slinking her arm around both yours and Kate's neck, “don’t be a chicken now.”

“Yeah,” your brunette friend on the other side of Yelena tilted her frame to catch your apprehensive eye, “you already sneaked out, so you might as well make it count.” 

“I hate it when you’re right,” you groaned, your gaze narrowed to a squint as you got used to the warm flashing lights that dully illuminated the club. 

“Then you must always hate me,” a smug smirk spread across her features before the trio of you ventured further into the crowded space. 

As the night faded away, you found yourselves bathing in the strobes of neon light as your bodies moved on their own accord, like you were all part of a hive, buzzing together in harmony.

But then when you tapped both of your dancing friends on their shoulders and ushered their ears to lean in close to your lips, you told them, “I’m gonna go get some water,” receiving two thumbs up before you made your way through the crowd to the curved bar in the corner. 

However, after the bartender handed you a plastic bottle and you tilted your head back to take a much-needed sip, a familiar voice found your ears from across the bar. 

“As I live and fucking breathe,” you tipped the bottle back down and glanced down the way at the unexpected figure moseying closer to where you stood. 

“Peter!” a surprised smile couldn’t help but spread across your features, “what are you doing here?” 

Settling in beside you, he said, “it’s a Saturday night, where else would I be?”

“No, I mean, what are you doing in Paris?” 

“Oh, what, am I not allowed to be in your city anymore since the breakup?” he joked.

“No, of course, you can be here.” 

Leaning in even closer so that he didn’t have to yell as loud, he asked, “so how are you doing?”

“Me? I’m good, yeah,” your head bobbed in a nod, “how about you?”

“Can’t complain,” his gaze washed over you as if no time had passed at all, “so… can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you shifted the water bottle to your other hand. 

“You seeing anyone?” 

“Oh, wow,” you half coughed, “Peter Parker, king of subtlety.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count, so I figured subtlety went out the window a long time ago,” he smirked, “so, are you?”

“I–, uhm…” your eyes averted a moment as you uttered, “no.” 

You weren’t, it was true. Though the reason for why you’d sneaked out in the first place did have to do with a matter of the heart. 

You’d asked your friends what their advice would be if you hypothetically needed to get over someone. They both of course assumed that you were referring to the man standing before you in the disco and not the person who watched you like a hawk every minute of every day. The method they had suggested wasn’t a sound one, though one that still found you desperate enough to try. 

To go out, meet someone else and bang the dude out of your system. 

“Can I ask you something else?” Peter asked again, ripping you out of your thoughts, away from your bodyguard and back in the moment. As you offered him a nod, he smiled brightly, “you wanna dance?”

And that’s how you found yourself in the middle of a crowded dancefloor, plastered against your ex.

It didn’t take long before your lips reunited as well, staying locked as you both let your hands wander, though for you it wasn’t entirely in the spirit of rekindling something that you’d missed, and more to help you forget about the person who you truly wished to lose yourself on a dancefloor with. 

“Fuck,” you heard Peter groan in your ear and his desperation poked your lower abdomen for the attention you used to give it, “you wanna go slip into the bathroom?”

“Uhh,” you giggled as his lips tickled the side of your neck, “what kinda woman do you take me to be?”

“Mine,” he smiled, “that’s who. I know you. A club bathroom is nothing… remember Amsterdam?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” your body tingled at the thought. 

“That’s also an option, if that’s the kind of mood you're in,” he winked. 

Chuckling as he squeezed your tit, you shook your head lightly, “I’m not fucking you here on the dancefloor.” 

“Oh, come on, it–”

But the rest of your ex’s sentence was cut short as a figure forced itself between you two and pried you apart.  

Instinctively reaching out for Peter as he was forcefully pushed back, your arm then faltered as you blinked up to discover who had shoved him. 

“Barnes,” a shiver ran down your spine at the stormy expression plastered all over his face, a side of him you’d never witnessed before, “I–”

But he cut you off, only to bark, “out, now.”

“But I–”

“Do you wanna walk on your own or should I just toss you over my shoulder?” he glared down at you just before you watched Peter’s hand plant itself on Bucky’s broad shoulder. 

“Hey, dude, don’t touch her, back off,” your ex tried to square up to the intimidating guard dog. 

“No, no, Peter, it’s alright,” you rushed to explain, knowing full well that your bodyguard could and would put him in the hospital, “he’s–…” your eyes briefly flickered up to Bucky’s steely blue eyes, still directed at you, “he’s my bodyguard,” before you let your touch graze Peter’s forearm, “I’m so sorry, it was great seeing you again, but I have to go.” 

Getting dragged out of the club like a perp from a crime scene was not the way you’d imagined your night would wrap up. 

After he’d virtually tossed you in the back and slammed the car door shut behind you, you fished out your phone and swiftly sent your friends an explanatory text while you half-watched Bucky march around the vehicle to the driver’s side. 

The silent treatment he then served you nearly felt worse than the heated words you imagined tumbled around in his head as he fumed, his knuckles nearly turned white from how fiercely he was gripping onto the steering wheel. 

But when you finally mustered the courage to break the eerie silence, your words came out just above a whisper, “I’m sorry…”

“Are you?” his eyes snapped up to find yours in the review mirror, “really? Because I don’t fucking buy it.” 

“Well, I am!” you threw up your arms, “what do you want me to do?” 

“Not sneak out like a fucking teenager to get drunk with your little boyfriend,” 

“I’m not drunk and he’s not my boyfriend!” 

Not taking any of your words to heart, Bucky went on, “you know how stupid this was, right? What if something had happened, huh? I know you didn’t personally read the threats you got back when I first got this job, but trust me when I tell you that if any of those fuckers had gotten their hands on you tonight, you’d be lucky if you were still breathing when the sun rose. This is exactly the sort of reckless behaviour that caused you to need my help in the first place.”

Your mouth then fell open, utterly stunned at his audacity, “oh my god… you’re unbelievable…” you uttered breathlessly before hazily commanding, “stop the car…”

“No–”

“Stop the fucking car!” you roared, casting your gaze to him once more till you felt his foot step on the break. 

As the car screeched to a stop, you wasted no time ripping the door open and storming out. 

Though you didn’t dare to look back, you still heard him exit the vehicle as well and shadow you as you wandered a few paces away, just far enough for you to be able to get some air. 

“Y/n,” you heard him from just a few meters behind you, “get back in the car–”

But you didn’t shift your feet as you then interrupted, back still turned to him.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking jealous right now…”

“What?”

“Well aren’t you?” you heatedly twisted around to face him, “because it sure fucking looks like it. Getting all fucking possessive, ripping me away from my ex before I can crawl my way back to him, before I get the chance to feel anyone inside of me but you–”

“Stop–”

“Is that it? You just want me all to yourself?” you kept on poking, too blind by your fury to consider the consequences, “you want it to be you that I’m so in love with that I’d make you personalised porn, which would consequently ruin my life and cause me to have a babysitter essentially stalking me.”

“Stop!” he took a step closer as he barked.

“Unless you’ve already seen the tape,” your feet shifted back, keeping him at a distance, “fantasising that it’s for you, getting yourself off to the image of me bouncing on that pretty pink dildo–”

Your sentence then crumbled into a shrivelled yelp as you felt his cold metal hand seize your neck and push you the last few inches up against the brick wall behind you. 

His fingers didn’t squeeze you in the slightest, though you still knew just how easy it would have been for him to tighten his grip and turn it into more than just a raging warning. 

“You done?” he spat as his eyes pieced directly into your soul, “or do you wanna give me more reasons why you’re nothing more than a spoiled little brat, why I should just quit now and not have to deal anymore with what a fucking pain you are in my ass?”

For the life of you, no attempts at offering him an answer were successful on your lips. 

He scared you. 

He’d never scared you before. 

Both because of the explosion you’d undoubtedly made even worse than it had to be, but also his fleeting threat of leaving you for good. 

It all terrified you… 

Though, there was also a different sensation that it awoke within you, one that caused your eyes to flutter down towards his lips, an action that your bodyguard surprisingly mirrored as well as your heated breaths synced up. 

You had no idea who moved first, if it was you or him, but the next thing you knew, you were kissing him.

With adrenaline still pumping in your veins, you clawed at his broad frame as you let your tongue flicker out and flutter against his own. The steely hand that had locked itself around your neck softened and whisked down your form, mirroring your own starving touch as he securely held you like you were about to fall. 

However, just as your palm slid down to find the bulge in his pants, rubbing it needily before your fingers tried to seize the short zipper, Bucky took a large step back, snapping to his senses and creating a wide distance between him and your melted form against the brick. 

His eyes refused to meet your foggy ones as he held them to the ground, slowly catching his breath before uttering, “get in the car,” defeat shining through in his low tone.

“Bucky–,” you tried, but without success as he then cut you off. 

“Please, just–…” his gaze fluttered shut a moment as you then heard him sombrely promise, “look, I’ll make sure your mom doesn’t hear word of what happened tonight. If we go now, then we’ll arrive before any of the staff wakes up, no one will notice.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[duuhrayliegh]

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

[buckrecs]

𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙁𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙮

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Let Me Love You by @slothspaghettiwrites (ABO)

Soup & Cuddles by @beyondspaceandstars

The Gift by @/beyondspaceandstars

Exposure Therapy by @d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n

To Let You Win by @delaber

Truth by @lovelybarnes

You Feel Love! by @halcyonrogers

What Happens in the Dark by @majestyeverlasting

Lost Without You by @jobean12-blog

Undercover Fiancés by @samingtonwilson (Detective AU)

blue jeans by @ichorai

Spice Jars by @fandoms-writings

Eyes That Sparkle by @assembletheimagines

Buchanan by @/assembletheimagines (40s!Reader)

10 Little Lies by @dilemmaontwolegs

Everywhere by @wxntersoldiers

so many kisses, so little time by @sergeantxrogers

black shirts and soggy cereal by @/sergeantxrogers

Genuine by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

heal me, baby by @intrepidacious

A Shot Worth Taking by @rookthorne (Nurse!Bucky)

Heist of the Year by @ghostofskywalker

My Girl by @girl-next-door-writes

Daniel by @buckyalpine

Serious Questions by @espinosaurusrexex

ANGST

The Last First Kiss by @witchywithwhiskey

The Casket by @wkemeup

All This Time by @/jobean12-blog (Neighbor!Bucky)

Braces Are Breaking by @ltbarnes (Parker!Reader)

My Blood Turns Into Alcohol by @ltbarnes (Bartender!Bucky, Mutual Pinning)

My Honey by @/fandoms-writings (Ex!Bucky)

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart by @buckybabesonly

Tarot by @writingcroissant (BF’s Best Friend!Bucky)

I like me better when I’m with you by @themorningsunshine

blue neighborhood by @sergeantxrogers (Husband!Bucky)

perfectly wrong by @buckysdvll (Dark!Bucky)

Look At Me by @rosepetalsinwinter (40s!Bucky x Nurse!Reader)

I’ll Be Waiting For You by @oliverwxod

Together, Forever by @moonbeambucky

Confrontation by @imgoingtofreakoutnow

SMUT

troublemaker by @jurassicbarnes

Overly worried and Touch starved by @buckylattes

The Massage by @/delaber

What do they know? by @bucknastybabe

Stupid by @coffeecatsandcandles (ex husband!Bucky)

Sleepwalking by @lanadelreyscokewhor3 (WS!Bucky)

I Hate U by @duckybarnes1917 (Sub!Bucky)

Cry Me A River? by @threeminutesoflife

Call Shot by @/threeminutesoflife

.

.

A Heated Conference by @allthatmarvel

Want to let off some steam? by @kyroscorner

Praise Kink by @bucknastysbabe (Hydra!Reader)

false god by @notafunkiller (Director!Bucky x Actress!Reader)

Sparring Partners by @a-n-conrad

Dressing Up for Bucky by @alwaysf0rev3r

a night in brooklyn by @traitorjoelite (40s!Bucky)

Whiteout by @/dilemmaontwolegs

Linen & Thongs by @softevanstan

Good Graces by @late-to-the-party-81

Feel Good by @russiandoll-from-brooklyn

[fandoms-writings]

Soak with Me

Pairing: Bartender!Neighbor!Bucky x artist!reader (intended female reader)

Word count: 1.2K

Summary: Bucky didn’t use to love baths, but with you? How could he not?

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, Bucky is a menace, fingering, naked people in a bath, fluff, Bucky’s in love

If you enjoy the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

Baths weren't really something Bucky did very often, only succumbing to them when he'd had a particularly grueling day and his muscles needed to relax. He'd fill the tub with hot water and throw in some bath salts, the green ones that filled the air with eucalyptus, menthol, and spearmint, and let his body relax in the hot water until he deemed himself fine again before getting out. 

Now that he had you though, baths had sort of become a staple in his life. 

It started when you were studying for finals. You were hunched over the coffee table, your legs folded up under you as you studied flash cards and gripped your head in frustration. The tea he'd made you sat to the side, untouched and cold, and he could see the angry tears starting to build along your lashes. 

He'd disappeared down the hall, drawn a bath, and came back to pull you from your studies. You didn't put up much of a fight, but you did argue that you didn't have enough time for his antics. He shushed you, pulling you into the small bathroom by the seam of your shirt. 

"Just give me ten minutes with you, sugar," he'd said, "then I'll leave ya alone." And how could you say no to him? So, you'd relented. 

You let him strip you down and help you into the bath before you tugged on his hand, asking him to join you. Bucky hadn't even planned on it, he was going to let you relax and bring you a new cup of tea and even wash your hair for you if you'd let him. But to join you - fuck.

He nodded, stripping himself down before sliding in behind you, holding you as you leaned against him and finally let your body relax after days of studying. 

You'd never let him keep you there too long, though he could always tell how you didn't want to return to your studies, but he wasn't going to be the one to hold you back from acing your finals. 

Now, as you laid with your back to his chest, you didn't have a deadline looming over you. There was no exam or final paper waiting for your attention as you let the warm water envelop you. You could stay here, wrapped up in his arms, as long as you liked. 

You'd convinced him some time ago to get some new bath salts, though it didn't take much convincing, and now the water smelled like lavender. But really, you had a different scent for each day of the week if you wished to use them as such.

The tub wasn't very large - apartment tubs never were, but Bucky didn't mind having you pressed against him like you were. His shoulders and his knees poked up above the water line, but as long as you were mostly submerged and warm, it didn't matter. He wasn't in here for him, he was here for you. To spend time with you, to help you relax, to feel you. 

Your head was resting back against his shoulder as his hands lazily roamed your skin under the water, feeling every dip and fold as they went. Your head turned and you pressed your face into his neck as you hummed and Bucky couldn't contain the smirk that grew on his lips. 

A light feeling filled his chest, making him feel giddy. 

He loved how you made him feel. He knew he wasn't necessarily old, but you made him feel young again - adventurous. You made him feel more like himself than he had in a long time. Like he was that twenty-something year old running around Brooklyn causing trouble and pulling his best friend out of back alley fights. Like he was still the 'ladies man.' Not like he was starting to sport grays in his hair. 

You'd actually told him you preferred the grays, saying it made him look sophisticated. He wanted to dye the offending hairs back to brunette, but he just couldn't after hearing you talk about them the way you did and seeing the way your gaze held such fondness and lust when you told him how you liked it. 

Your breath tickled against his neck as you sighed into his skin, melting into him as he got lost in the skin of your thighs. He didn't know how you kept your skin so soft all the time but it always beckoned him closer. He would always try to just make you feel good, massaging or tickling your skin to help you relax, but when your skin was as soft as yours, he couldn't help it if his hands wandered a little too much. 

The hitch in your breath as his fingers ghosted over your folds threw gas on the fire that had lit in his chest and tugged at the corners of his mouth. Your body always responded so well to his touch, your hips chasing his fingers as he teasingly pulled them away, dragging them up the inside of your thigh again. 

He loved that you let him do practically whatever he wanted to you. 

It took sometime to get to that point - he didn't want to scare you off by how much he'd become obsessed with you and your body and the noises he could pull from you, whether it be by his fingers, his cock, or his tongue. But once you finally got it through his thick skull that he didn't need to ask to touch you - god it was a game changer for him. With your patience and encouragement, he'd grown more confident in himself again. Confident in the way he enjoyed loving you. In the way he loved fucking you. 

While continuing to tease you by making another pass across your clit, his other hand came up to wrap around one of your breasts, grasping it and using it to pull you even closer into him. Your breath fanned across his neck, causing a wave of goosebumps to spread over his exposed shoulders as his fingers dragged down your thigh again, this time pushing through your folds to prod at your core. 

The moan that left your lips and buzzed against his neck was sinful as he circled his fingers, not quite giving you what you wanted while your hands gripped his legs. 

"You want this here?" He asked, pressing his lips into your temple as he brushed his thumb over your clit, "Or in bed?" 

He watched your eyes flutter open and the lust that darkened them was enough to have him swallowing around his suddenly dry throat. He could feel your heart thumping in your chest with his hand that now laid across your sternum and the blood that was rushing in his ears was almost deafening as he waited for your answer. 

Just because he was waiting for a verbal response though, doesn't mean he was going to stop. 

You opened your mouth to reply but nothing came out as he sunk two fingers in and he watched your eyes flutter, trying to stay open and on him. 

"C'mon, sugar," he smirked while slowly dragging his fingers across your walls and pressing the palm of his hand against your clit, earning another moan from you, "What's it gonna be?"

Your hand let go of his leg and moved up to grab his hand on your sternum, moving it to wrap around your throat as you looked up at him, and he suddenly knew one thing was very clear. 

Baths were very important to Bucky now.

As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications @remis-library

[navybrat817]

he has to protect you, there is too much bad in the world.

Oh, we love a protective Bucky. Especially if bad people have an eye on our sweet reader. 👀

Sleepover time 😏😏😏

Let’s talk about a Bartender!Bucky AU because that feels like something you would write *extremely* well.

mmmm bartender!bucky, you say? with a tight black button down with the top few buttons undone and a rolex on his right arm wearing tight dark navy slacks and sleek black pointed shoes??? 

-he catches your eye one night, for obvious reasons. but he can't help but feel drawn to you

-you seem so out of place, so separate from the group of friends surrounding you. you're milking a gin and tonic— the drink seeming to appear more filled as the minutes tick by, completely indifferent to the rowdy crowd scene or your obnoxious friends. they swallow at reds and whites, downing them by the bottle, spilling all over themselves and clogging the air surrounding you

-god you wanted to go home. but he comes over to you— the glaze of sadness washing your eyes of their natural sparkle, the dull appearance causing bucky’s heart to clench even though he knows nothing about you. it’s not difficult to spot a woman in pain— he knew all too well

-"hi sweets, ya’ look a little down? can i make you anything? that drink doesn't fit a face pretty like yours— maybe something with no alcohol and real sweet? just like you."

- this is how it always goes. constantly looking out for you, checking in with you while your friends forget about you for the night. trying to pull any semblance of a smile out of you that he can. he always wonders why you bother with them, but it shows true to your unfortunate loyalty and timorous demeanor. he has to protect you, there is too much bad in the world. it seems you know all too much about that pain and horror. so he watches you; he talks to you; he can't seem to ever not be thinking about you.

-but bucky notices you’ve caught the eye of several people over the past couple weekends. bad people. and unbeknownst to you, bucky used to be one of them. but his newfound attraction and burning desire for you causes a protective man to surface, one he hadn’t seen for a long time. 

-after a few more nights of getting to know you better, a bad day happens. bucky misses work one saturday night, and one of those bad people gets to you...

join in on my holiday season & 1k+ sleepover!

(who wants to read more of this?? everyone go thank col, she inspired a wholeass fic series idea with this... coming soon)

[navybrat817]

On the Rocks

Pairing: Bartender!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You're not sure why Ari doesn't seem to like you, but you two have to work together.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Tension, coworkers, bit of grumpy and sunshine, misunderstanding, future smut, Ari Levinson and he's slightly rude at first (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy this intro to my Gin and Bear It AU. @spectre-posts requested bartender!Ari to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #13 in bold. TECHNICALLY not smut, but there will be smut in future parts. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't one to brag, but you were good at your job. You showed up on time and stayed late if necessary. Never dropped a tray or drink. Didn't skip out on cleaning or any other tasks. And not only were you attentive with your customers, you showed just enough skin to keep it professional and never went home with anyone at the end of the night. Your work ethic helped you earn the respect of just about everyone at the establishment.

Except for Ari Levinson.

You eyed the gorgeous bearded man behind the bar, your blood rushing faster through your veins. He didn't spare you a glance. He hardly ever did. Everyone else who worked there got a smile from him. Even a smirk. But you? An unimpressed look was what you got on a good day. You chalked it up to you being a new member of the staff, until the barback who started after you received kinder treatment from him.

To be fair, it wasn't like Ari hated you. He didn't seem to particularly like you either. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Maybe there wasn't a specific reason. Some people just didn't mesh well. It didn't stop you from treating him like every other coworker. The two of you had to work together whether he liked it or not.

“Hey,” you smiled as you stopped at the bar and set your tray down. You waited a second for him to acknowledge you, but he kept drying glasses. “Three Jack and Cokes, please.”

That got Ari's attention. He didn't have to greet you, but you both had a job to do. You waited in silence while he made the drinks. He didn't look at you, but you looked at him.

He was in good shape. Great shape, in fact. With his large and somewhat intimidating size, you were surprised he wasn't a bouncer. He was a good bartender though. He wouldn't have a job there if he wasn't.

It wasn't right how attracted you were to him since he never seemed to give you the time of day.

“Thanks,” you said when he set the drinks on the tray for you.

He grunted and turned to put the bottle back.

“You know, we’ve been working together for almost three months. One of these days you may actually carry on a conversation with me instead of answering me with random sounds,” you teased.

“I'm here to work, not chat,” he said over his shoulder, his deep voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine despite his statement. “You should do the same.”

You sighed when you picked up the tray. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Like always.

“Don't need friends.”

It was a bit of an odd statement. You said friendly, not friends specifically. “Aren't Steve and Bucky your friends?” You asked. They were two of the other bartenders. Best friends and good to the rest of the staff. Protective, too, always quick to jump in if a customer got mouthy or handsy.

Ari’s jaw clenched as he faced you, but you didn't cower. “Yeah, they are.”

You may not have cowered under his gaze, but you sure as hell felt small the longer he looked at you. “But you don't want to be my friend,” you said.

“I don't need more friends,” he said dismissively as your stomach dropped. You wished it didn't hurt to hear that and you had to blink rapidly when you felt a familiar telltale burning in your eyes. “Anything else?”

Plastering a smile back on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, you straightened up. “Noted. We aren't and won't be friends,” you said before you added with more bite than you intended, “And don't worry, Ari. I don't need anything from you.”

He must've noticed the shift in your tone, too, since his jaw clenched harder than before. You walked off before he had a chance to say anything, cursing yourself inwardly at your tone. You shouldn't have let his dismissal get under your skin. Besides, he was right. You were there to work and your customers needed their drinks.

So, why did it bother you so much that Ari didn't want to be your friend? It shouldn't matter. There were lots of people who worked together who never talked or saw each other outside of their jobs. You wished he would've given you a chance, but you’d respect his decision.

For the rest of the night though, you planned to avoid him like the plague.

As your shift went on, you felt Ari’s eyes on you. Instead of looking back at him or giving him a smile like usual, you ignored him or acted like he wasn't there. You didn't stop at his end of the bar, going instead to Steve to get your drinks. For the first time since you started working there, you had Ari's full attention.

And for once, you didn't want it.

By the end of your shift once you wrapped up just about all of your tasks, you were ready to get out of there. “Any plans after closing?” You asked Steve, counting out tips for him.

“I might be seeing someone,” he smiled gently, his gaze flickering to a woman sitting alone at a table.

You raised an eyebrow. Patrons hit on the guys all the time, but it was rare for them to take anyone home. “Well, I hope you have a good time,” you said before nodding over to Bucky who was sitting at the bar, too. “Isn't it your night off?”

Bucky smiled softly. “It is, but my girl should be here in a few minutes. We won't stay long.” His girl has gone through some heartbreak before she rolled into town and the brunette quickly became her knight in shining armor.

“You have fun, too,” you said, sliding off the stool with a sigh.

Steve’s brows pinched. “You okay?”

“I will be,” you said, not wanting to lie to him and pretend you were fine. You also didn't want to get into what was going on. Feeling sorry for yourself didn't do you any good and everything would be okay tomorrow.

“You sure?” Steve swung his head toward Ari. “You think I didn't notice that you haven't been back to that end of the bar?”

You glanced in that direction, inhaling sharply as you met Ari’s gaze. He crossed his as he stared you down, tension as thick as fog. All you could see were the blue of his eyes and you had to look away so you didn't lose yourself.

“Just an off night. Nothing to worry about,” you said, pushing over Steve’s cut. “And I’m out for the night unless you need anything else.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. “Need one of us to walk you out?” Bucky offered.

“No, I’m good,” you said, sighing again when you realized you’d have to pass by Ari to leave. You also had to give him his tips. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”

Ari stood in the same spot as you walked toward him, your heart beating erratically. One day he may not make your heart race like that. “Night,” you smiled sadly, setting his tips down on the bar and walking on.

You grabbed your bag from the backroom and headed out for the evening with your keys in hand, shivering at the slight chill in the air. It wasn't until you were about halfway to your car that you heard footsteps behind you, making you tense up. Maybe you should've had someone walk you out.

“Hey.” It was Ari. “Wait up.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a quizzical look. “Why? Do you need something?”

Ari looked up at the night sky and ran a hand through his long hair, but didn't reply. You were two seconds away from walking to your car when you heard above a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You asked when he met your eye. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“I was an asshole to you earlier,” he replied, surprising you as he took a step forward. “Been kind of an asshole to you since day one when you've been nothing but friendly.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said. Why did it matter now?

A stricken look crossed his features before he put up his mask again. “Why were you so nice to me then when I was an asshole to you?”

You shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal. “Because I had no reason to be rude to you, Ari,” you replied. It was that simple. “I was upset earlier though and I did avoid your side of the bar, but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“But-”

“You don't have to like me. You really don't,” you told him, the words bittersweet. “But we do have to work together. So as long as we’re civil to each other, it’s fine.”

You fought the urge to step back when Ari took another step forward. There was usually a bar between the two of you when you stood near him. Up close with nothing between you showed just how large he was. And he smelled good, too, because of course he did. “I never said I didn't like you.”

“Maybe not with words, but your actions kind of said it for you. Seriously, there’s an obvious difference in your demeanor with me versus everyone else,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his blue eyes full of regret. At least he acknowledged that.

“Not to mention, you just said tonight that you didn't need more friends. Between that and your attitude, the natural assumption is that you don't like me,” you said. What else were you meant to think?

He nodded. “I can see why you’d think that, but I'm sorry.”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment. You weren't exactly sure what to say. “Okay, well. Apology accepted, I guess. Good night.”

“Wait,” he said when you began to turn away. “Do you really wanna know what I thought about you when you started working here?”

The skeptical look was back on your face. “I’ll admit I'm curious, but I won't just stand here if you’ll continue to be an asshole to me.”

He chuckled. Did you actually make him laugh? “I wouldn't expect you to,” he said, taking a breath. “This might get me fired if you complain.”

“Just say it, please,” you half begged. “Whatever it is, it can't be-”

“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you ‘til you screamed my name.”

You sputtered, an embarrassing sort of sound. It wasn't what you expected to hear. Ari Levinson wanted to fuck you? Since the moment you met?

“You what?” You asked, wanting to hear him say it again.

“I want you and I’ve imagined fucking you all over the bar every day since you started working here. The tables, the booths, the office, against the wall, even in the bathroom stalls,” he spoke, his voice deep and confident as you tried not to whimper. How were you already wet? “But not just that.”

You bit your lip. “What else?”

His gaze softened. “I think about your smile. You have such a beautiful smile.” You did whimper this time. Since when was praise so important? “And how you giggle at bad jokes. And how you sway your hips to the songs you like. And how you're just so fucking kind, even to those who don't deserve it.”

“You like me?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You held up a hand, your head spinning from his confession. “Wait. Hold on,” you said, trying to get your bearings and not throw yourself into his arms. You needed to have some self respect. “You’ve been an asshole to me because you like me?”

Why do men do dumb things?

Ari winced. “Not my smartest plan, I’ll admit, but I thought pushing you away before anything happened was the best move.”

“Why though? Why push me away?” You asked.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don't like to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.” It wasn't a secret that Ari was single, but there was a story there. “But that doesn't excuse being cold toward you. And if you’re willing, I’d like to start over.”

You searched his gaze for sincerity and found it. “So would I.”

His expression softened more, relieved. The fact that he wanted to try gave you hope for things moving forward. “And maybe we can grab a coffee at the diner? Just talk?”

Your eyes rounded. Was Ari asking you out? “When? Now?” You asked.

He smiled. “If you’re free.”

You smiled back and shook your head. “Nope. Sorry, Ari.”

Ari's smile fell immediately. “No?” He repeated the word in disbelief. You were in disbelief yourself. “No you aren't free or no you don't want to hang out with me?”

“Any other day, I’d love to have a coffee with you and talk or for you to make good on that promise of bending me over the bar and making me scream your name. But tonight?” You batted your eyes for good measure. “No, I don't.”

“Oh.” Ari blinked and cleared his throat. “I guess that makes sense after how I acted.”

“It makes perfect sense. A quick apology doesn't get you off scott free for how you treated me,” you told him, taking a step closer yourself this time. “So change my mind.”

“Change your mind?”

“Yeah. Let's start over like you suggested and you find a way to change my mind. I'm not saying you have to be overly friendly during our shifts, but treat me a little better. Show me why I should give you a chance and ask me again later,” you answered, gliding your fingers along his forearm once you were close enough. “And I'll still be nice to you. I promise.”

“So, you want me to woo you?” He smirked after a moment, one that nearly made your panties melt. “I can do that.”

You giggled. “I think I deserve it.”

“You do. And my first step in mending things,” he said, offering his arm as he stepped back. “How about I walk you to your car?”

“You may,” you smiled, linking your arm with his. You felt him flex a bit and you almost giggled again, a spring in your step as you walked. One day you’d feel him pin you down with that strength. You’d be patient though.

After all, he promised to woo you first.

How do we think he'll make it up to you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Good Directions

From: Handiwork Series

Pairing: Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Curtis shows you a couple of his favorite spots around town.

Word count: 2,229

Content/warnings: Kissing, conversation, pet name usage, really not much else, a sprinkle of angst?

Author’s Note: Takes place directly after the last chapter, and then there are a few time skips, so it ends at the same place as YCMBWH ch. 8

All feedback is greatly appreciated. I love hearing back from you, even if it’s a keyboard smash. Thank you for reading!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Cleaning up went relatively fast after Curtis stepped away. After you finished counting the drawer and wiping down the counters finally, you saw him leaning against the wooden frame, chatting with Edgar. As soon as you walked up to them, Edgar bid the two of you goodbye.

“Okay, cheese curd, ready to go?” He laughed as his cheeks flushed a little pink. He nodded, opening up the door for you and leading you out to his truck.

He helped you to hop up into the passenger seat before jogging over to his side to get in. You’ve never seen a man that big move so smoothly. It must be the farming, really. Man, you had wasted your time with those city boys. Once he was settled in and had started the car, he sat there, still for a second, before looking over to you.

“So, Cherry, have a good day at work?” It was as if he had just simply picked you up. Like this was something he’d done before and he planned to do way more in the future. You let out a giggle at his playfulness and nodded.

“Oh yeah, great day. There was this one guy who kept begging for my attention, though. But I guess it was alright, because his friend with the fancy credit card left me a huge tip.”

Curtis teasingly scoffed, but it morphed into a smile to which you returned a wink when he turned his whole body towards you in the bench seat, propping his arm up across the back of it. His body looked so big, taking up the truck cab like that, yet so inviting.

“So where to, Missy? I know a lot about you, but not exactly where you live.”

You nodded. “Oh, right. Yeah, start driving and I’ll direct you.”

You took the opportunity to slide in under his arm before he could to move it, as he shifted back to face forward. As you settled into his side, Curtis kept his eyes forward, but it was impossible to miss the way the corners of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparked as he took a deep breath, still otherwise unmoving for a second.

Curtis moved his arm anyway, just for a second, to shift the truck into gear, then put it right back to where it was around you, squeezing you closer than before and starting his drive.

Curtis insisted on walking you up to your apartment after the short drive, which seemed like no time at all with how easy it was to talk to him. He’d been so kind, and you know Edgar had been just as decent lately, but this seemed different. It seemed like…more.

When you got to the door, you turned around and were met with the view of Curtis with his hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly slouched forward.

As your eyes met, you could feel the tension in the air, not sure where to go next. Not sure if maybe he felt the same static around the moment as you. Perhaps he was just being nice with everything lately, and that’s how they simply were in small towns, but again, it felt like way more than that. Either way, the easy conversation somehow escaped you now as your eyes shifted between his. Before you could even help it, you blurted out, “Would you just kiss me?”

Your hands gripped the collar of his flannel shirt and Curtis was taken aback by your directness. Hell, you were, too. His brain was screaming out to him. If he would’ve been able to decipher the internal screeching and put it into words, he would’ve said something along the lines of “Of course, I’ve been waiting to since the night I met you,” but instead, the wiring to his mouth must’ve been cut, since all he produced was a, “What?”

You laughed and shook your head at his expression and inability to register your words, before worry began to seep in. “I’d like to think I’m reading this right and was hoping you’d confirm it? Would you ki-“

Curtis’s brain finally caught up from the lag, and he immediately leaned down and smashed his lips against yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were the one wearing the brainless expression, eyes open and owlish at his confirmation of your feelings. You watched as his eyes slowly opened and a goofy smile came onto his face.

“I don’t think you read that wrong at all.” Curtis whispered between small pants.

“I, uh. I’ve got an early morning, but I enjoyed chatting with you tonight. I’d really like to see you again…maybe this coming week? Outside of your work and outside of the shop, you and me could do something?”

You nodded and bit your lip. “Yeah, I’d really like that. I’ll text you my schedule.”

You unclenched your hands from the fabric of his shirt and ran them down his chest. His oh-so-firm chest, before you realized maybe that was too far for tonight. You quickly moved your hands to be busy with something else, fishing for the doorknob behind you. “Good night, Curtis. Thank you for the ride.”

He simply nodded, watching you close the door and listening for the lock before turning on his heel and heading back to his car.

That week, Curtis kept his word. On Tuesday, he knew you had off work, so he surprised you by showing up at your door with a picnic basket in hand, only having given you about an hour of notice in advance, which was just enough time to get dressed and ready.

“Hey. I made us a little something. Wanna go for a ride?”

You nodded and grabbed his outstretched hand, heading out to his truck and hopping up. You could see the blankets in the truck bed already.

You watched the country roads and fields go by until Curtis pulled into a gorgeous meadow. The sun, low in the sky, was casting a reflective glow across the wildflowers and golden grasses.

Curtis put the truck in park and hopped down, reaching for you as you scooted across the bench seat and into his arms, where he helped you down. The calluses on his well-worked hands traced down your arms to grab your hands, sending a tingle through your body, as he led you to the tailgate. He helped you jump up before stepping up, himself, once again more gracefully than you would’ve expected for someone of his stature.

He laid out the blankets before helping you settle in to the laid out picnic.

It was a perfect date. After the meal, which was surprisingly good, you and Curtis just sat there, cuddled up in the corner of the bed, where you were squeezed in between his legs to watch the sunset. The warmth on your face mixed with that of his body behind you was comforting-almost too much.

You began to shift in his hold, the weight of everything kicking in. Maybe this was too much, too fast. You had just gotten here, the last thing you needed was to let yourself get sucked in, even if he was just so kind. Did you even know enough about him yet to say that?

Curtis took note of the change in the tone of the environment and moved around your side to look at you.

“Hey, everything alright?”

Sure, it was. You had been the one mostly pushing for things. You had been the one to kiss him, so why were you suddenly so on edge? You tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat before nodding.

“Uh, yeah. Just, um… this is really nice.”

Maybe the care he was showing was unlike what you were used to. Everywhere you went, it was just…you. But suddenly, someone else cared about what was going on in your life and made an effort to take part in it. You’re cleared your throat and attempted to clear the tears from your eyes before he could see them. You turned away from his knowing gaze and looked out towards the field.

“Everything’s really beautiful. Can you tell me about around here? I just wanna hear you talk.”

Curtis grabbed your hand with both of his, rubbing his thumbs along the back of it. He gave you a reassuring look and just simply a nod, leaning back once more and going through the history of the farm, what all the fields were used for, and the different animals, his deep voice lulling you back to a state of comfort. He told you about the old country store on the one corner, with an old Coca-Cola sign, and how his aunt used to make the best sweet tea. You settled back against his chest easily, taking in the warmth again, losing the sense of false alarm which threatened your enjoyment, and finally accepting the peace you thought you might find here.

After that night and the amount that Curtis opened up to you, seeing him was a much more regular occurrence, especially once you had gotten the call that the part for your truck came in. The repair took longer than anticipated, though, since Curtis had to be careful of the other parts of the engine with them all being so old. The wrong move could result in the necessity of ordering yet another part and essentially having to start the process over again. And as much as he would’ve liked to keep having reasons to talk to you, he wasn’t looking for more ways to dig into your pockets, or better yet, his since unbeknownst to you, he already had decided to comp this whole job.

The long-stretching work resulted in a few late nights of Curtis taking you back to the shop with him so he could show you the progress, teach you more about the other parts of the engine you weren’t as familiar with, and maybe kiss a little bit in the break room after he washed his hands for the day.

Some nights you’d snag him dinner from the bar and he’d drive you back out into the fields, instead, sharing snacks, and conversations, and a view of the unhindered stars that lit up and reflected in his eyes. He was made for here. He matched everything so perfectly, and you matched him.

Every so often, things would switch up, Curtis would sit with his head in your lap looking up at the sky while you told him stories of your travels, what life was like in various cities, and how all the people were different. Those places were never home, though. But this place felt like it, maybe he felt like it.

You ran your fingers through his cropped hair, staring up at the sky when he spoke up between your stories.

“So you remember my cousin? And Bucky?”

You hummed and nodded, tearing your eyes from the sky to look into Curtis’s and moved your hand from the top of his head to scratch through his beard.

“Well Bucky’s only got a few nights left in town, and I know you’ve got a day off coming up. I think we’re gonna have a bonfire. You wanna join?”

You thought for a second. This was essentially Curtis asking you to meet his family. If you hadn’t felt so secure with him, you would’ve hesitated, but there was no question and you’d take any opportunity to be with him and those he considered closest. They were funny from what you remember. Kind, polite, and seemed just as decent as him.

“Sounds good.”

The night of the bonfire was almost like any other time with you and Curtis. Warm, comfortable, enjoyable. Well, at least on your end.

You were sitting with your back up against Curtis, the bonfire smoke struggling to fight off the bugs, as you sensed something was off. Bucky and Bee sitting across from you seemed…sad. Like there was a cloud over their heads despite the wonderful weather lately.

You tried your best to make conversation and keep it. Maybe even avoiding the fact that you thought Bucky was simply a temporary farmhand, but now he seemed more like a boyfriend. Who were you to talk? Curtis was technically your mechanic. Your strong, smart mechanic who if you didn’t know better, you’d say was keeping your car for ransom so he could keep driving you places. Perhaps purposely walking through every repair step twice. That wasn’t the point right now, though, so you tried to talk to Bucky: the one who you’d heard less about.

He’d asked you what you thought of town, and if your time with Curtis was any indication, you loved it. So you asked him, as well. He seemed really locked in, like he wanted to stay forever, despite only being here temporarily as had been explained to you.

“But you’re not sticking around, right? Curtis told me this was one of your last nights in town.”

At that question, the already humid air thickened and you felt Curtis tense up behind you. Oh no, were you not supposed to say something about that? You tried to hold your expression in. Maybe if you didn’t acknowledge the discomfort, no one else would, but you heard Bucky’s quiet answer.

“Yeah.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: Did I write another truck bed date? Yes. And would I do it again? You can bet on it.

Taglist: @angelcavill66 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is This?: Chapter 1

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."