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the-winter-spider · 1 month ago

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I miss you, I'm sorry

Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Toxic, angst, smut

A/N: I love Gracie, and was like fuck it gonna toss something together based off my fav songs by her

The air feels heavy, even though the room is quiet. You sit cross-legged on your bed, your phone resting beside you, the screen dim and blank. The minutes bleed into each other, but you can’t stop glancing at the clock, as if willing it to rewind to before it all.

It’s been three days. Three days of no texts, no calls, no nothing. That’s how it always goes with Bucky. He’s there, and then he’s not. And every time, you tell yourself it’ll be the last time you wait for him to come back.

It never is.

You hate him for how easy it is to disappear. You hate yourself more for letting him.

The phone rings.

The sharp sound cuts through the haze of your thoughts, and for a moment, your heart skips. You snatch the phone up, seeing his name flash across the screen. The sight of it sends a rush of relief, anger, and something softer, something stupidly hopeful, all at once.

You answer, but don’t say anything.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet, gravelly. Tired.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Hey.”

The silence stretches, brittle and uncomfortable. You can hear him breathing on the other end, steady and soft. It reminds you of the way his breath felt against your skin the last time he stayed over, the last time he let himself get too close before pulling away again.

“I shouldn’t have called,” he mutters finally, his voice tight. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”

You close your eyes. There it is again, the push and pull. The way he says he shouldn’t but always does. The way he drags you back into his orbit every time, knowing you’ll stay.

“What do you want, Bucky?” you ask, keeping your voice steady. It’s a question you’ve asked a hundred times, and you already know the answer.

He exhales sharply, like he’s frustrated—at you, at himself, you’re not sure. “I don’t know.” Another pause. “You were right, okay? About everything. I just…” His voice trails off, and you can picture him sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always does when he’s trying to find the words. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” you snap, the simmering frustration bubbling to the surface. “Hate that you always come back? Or hate that you can’t figure out what the hell you want?”

He doesn’t answer. He never does when you call him out like this.

The silence makes your chest ache. You shake your head, even though he can’t see you. “You can’t keep doing this, Bucky. You can’t keep pulling me back just to push me away again. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” he whispers. And he sounds so broken, so genuine, that it cracks something inside you. It always does.

You take a shaky breath. “Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t know,” he says again. His voice is quieter now, softer, like he’s afraid of breaking you more than he already has. “Because you’re the only thing that feels real. And I don’t know how to hold onto it without screwing it up.”

Your throat tightens. You wish you didn’t understand. But you do. He’s always been good at giving you just enough to stay, but never enough to feel whole. “Its not enough Buck”

“I know,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “But it’s all I’ve got, you're all i truly have."

You sighed running your head through your hair “Do you wanna come over?”

“I’m already on my way”

You don't have to wait long. The sound of his motorcycle pulling up to your place makes your stomach do a little flip, even though you're still mad at him. You hear his heavy boots on the stairs, and then a soft knock at your door.

You take a deep breath before opening it. He's standing there, his hair tousled from the ride, his face tight and tired. He looks at you, and for a moment, it's like all the walls come down. He reaches out, cupping your face with his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice rough. "I'm so fucking sorry."

And just like that, you melt. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed. His other hand comes up to wrap around your waist, pulling you close. He smells like leather and cigarettes and something uniquely him.

"I missed you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. "I hate not seeing you."

"I hate it too," you whisper back. "But you can't keep doing this, Bucky. You can't keep hurting me."

He makes a soft, broken sound. "I know. I'm trying, okay? I'm really trying."

The door closes softly behind them, the click of the lock echoing in the charged silence. Bucky's hand is still cupping your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you breathe him in. He smells like leather and smoke, like home and danger all rolled into one.

You press yourself against him, feeling the hard planes of his body through his clothes. He's solid and warm and real, and it's been too long since you've felt him like this. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he claims your mouth in a hungry kiss.

You moan into it, your fingers tangling in his hair. He kisses like your fights- fierce and intense, like he's trying to claim every inch of you. You kiss back just as fiercely, your tongue sliding against his as you lose yourself in the feel of him.

He walks you backwards towards the bed, his hands roaming your body as he goes. He breaks the kiss only to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His mouth is back on yours before you can even blink, his hands cupping your breasts through your bra.

You arch into his touch, your nipples hardening under his palms. He groans low in his throat, his hips pressing forward to grind against yours. You can feel his hardness through his jeans, and it makes you ache with need.

He breaks the kiss again, trailing his lips down your neck as his hands work to unclasp your bra. It falls to the floor, joining the growing pile of clothes. He takes a moment to look at you, his eyes dark with desire as they rake over your naked breasts.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his hands cupping the soft mounds. You gasp as his thumbs brush over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He leans down, taking one of the hardened peaks into his mouth. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he sucks and licks and nibbles. Your hips buck against his, seeking friction, and he groans around your nipple, the vibrations making you shiver.

He gives the other breast the same attention, lavishing it with kisses and bites until you're writhing beneath him. Only then does he move lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach as he kneels before you.

His hands hook in the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down along with your panties. You step out of them, kicking them aside as he looks up at you from his knees. The sight of him there, kneeling before you like you're a goddess to be worshipped, makes your knees weak.

"Bucky," you breathe, and it's half plea, half prayer.

He grins up at you, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Patience, baby. I'm going to take my time with you."

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds to taste you. You cry out, your head falling back as pleasure crashes over you. He licks and sucks and teases, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devours you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to you as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he pulls back, leaving you gasping and empty.

"Bucky, please," you whimper, and he chuckles darkly.

"Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you pant, looking down at him with desperation in your eyes. "I want you inside me."

He stands up, pulling you flush against him as he captures your mouth in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you even more aroused. His hands grip your ass, kneading the flesh as he grinds his hardness against your bare core.

"Bed," he growls against your lips, and you nod frantically, tugging him towards the mattress.

You tumble onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and desire. He breaks the kiss to sit up, yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You take a moment to admire the hard planes of his chest, the scars that crisscross his skin like a roadmap of his past.

He crawls back over you, his hips settling between your thighs as he reaches for his belt. You watch, transfixed, as he unbuckles it and shoves his jeans and boxers down, freeing him.

He settles back over you, his head brushing against your entrance. You shudder at the contact, your hips lifting to try and draw him in.

"Tell me you want this," he whispers, his voice rough with need. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist. "I want all of you."

And with that, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. You cry out at the sudden fullness, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the stretch.

He pauses for a moment, letting you get used to him. Then he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. You meet him thrust for thrust, your hips rising to take him deeper.

The bed creaks beneath you as he sets a relentless pace, driving into you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, burying his face in your neck. "So perfect."

You clench around him in response, and he curses, his hips snapping forward harder.

"I'm gonna come," you gasp, your body tensing beneath him. "Bucky, I'm gonna-"

But he cuts off your words with a kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as you come undone beneath him. Your body spasms around him, milking him as he follows you over the edge with a hoarse shout of your name.

He collapses on top of you, both of you gasping for breath as the aftershocks of your orgasms roll through you. He presses soft kisses to your neck, your jawline, your lips as you bask in the afterglow.

"I love you," he murmurs against your skin, and you hope it's just not the sex talking.

Later that week, you’re sitting at a bar with Natasha. She watches you nurse your drink, her sharp green eyes narrowing as you tell her what happened.

“He called,” you say, staring down at the condensation on your glass. “And like an idiot, I picked up, and he came over, we had sex and he was gone in the morning”

Natasha doesn’t say anything at first. She just leans back, crossing her arms. “What do you want me to say?” she asks finally. “That he’s going to change? That this time will be different?”

You shake your head. “No. I just…” You trail off, struggling to put the feeling into words. “I just wish I didn’t miss him so much. I wish I could stop.”

She sighs, leaning forward. “Listen to me,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “He’s not going to fix this. You know that, right? He’s not going to wake up one day and suddenly figure out how to love you the way you deserve. That’s not who he is, you have to know that babe…"

“I know,” you whisper. But the ache in your chest doesn’t go away.

Natasha exhales deeply, tilting her head as if trying to decide whether to push further. Finally, she sets her drink down and leans across the table, her voice quieter but no less serious. “So, what’s the plan? You gonna keep answering when he calls? Keep letting him come over, screw you and your head, and leave like nothing happened?”

You don’t answer, just trace the edge of your glass with your finger. The truth is, you don’t have a plan. You’re not even sure you want one. “He said he loves me, he's never said that before”

Natasha leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studies you. Her sharp green eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no satisfaction in her expression. She doesn’t look impressed, doesn’t look relieved, like you’d hoped she might. Instead, her face softens, just slightly, in that way that means she’s about to say something you don’t want to hear.

“Okay,” she says slowly, her voice calm but pointed. “And what does that change?”

Her question hits like a bucket of cold water, and you blink at her, your fingers freezing mid-trace on the rim of your glass. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, so what?” Natasha continues, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “He said the words. Great. But what does that actually mean to you? Did it make you feel better? Did it fix anything?”

You open your mouth to reply, but no words come out. The truth sits heavy in your chest.

“It’s not enough just to say it,” Natasha presses, her tone still steady but with an edge of frustration. “Love isn’t just words. It’s showing up. It’s consistency. It’s choosing someone, not just when it’s convenient, but every single day. Did he do that? Or did he just say what you’ve been waiting to hear and then disappear again?”

The ache in your chest tightens, and you look down, your fingers clutching the glass like it might hold the answers you’re searching for. “He—he’s trying,” you say weakly, but even you don’t sound convinced.

Natasha lets out a breath, her voice softening again. “Babe… I know you want to believe him. I know you love him. But this?” She gestures vaguely, as if to encompass all of it—your tears, the late-night calls, the endless cycle. “This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. Love doesn’t leave you questioning your worth every time the sun comes up.”

The words settle over you like a weight, and you swallow hard, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill. You don’t want her to see you cry. Not here. Not like this.

“Nat…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. But she shakes her head, her expression soft but unyielding.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you,” she says gently. “I just… I want you to be happy. And you’re not happy right now. You haven’t been for a long time.”

Before you can respond, the stool next to her screeches, and Sam slides into it, his energy a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere between you and Nat. He plunks his beer on the table and gives you a once-over.

“Well, you look like someone stole your puppy,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

Natasha shoots him a look. “Not the time, Sam.”

“I’m just saying,” he replies, leaning back and gesturing to you. “She’s been sitting here all night, looking like a sad indie song, and you’re just gonna let her wallow?”

You glare at him, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “Do you have something to say, or are you just here to make jokes?”

“Both,” Sam says, taking a sip of his beer before setting it down. “Look, I love you, but this thing with Bucky? It’s killing you, and everyone can see it. Hell, you can see it, but you’re still pretending like it’s gonna work itself out.”

“Sam,” Natasha warns, but he holds up a hand.

“No, let me finish,” he says, his voice more serious now. “I’ve been where you are, okay? Hanging onto something that’s breaking you because you’re scared to let it go. But you know what happens if you keep holding on?” He pauses, meeting your eyes. “You lose yourself. And I don’t want that for you.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and for a moment, all you can do is sit there, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

“I don’t know how to let him go,” you admit finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know who I am without him.”

Sam leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Then it’s time to figure that out. Because you deserve better than waiting around for someone who doesn’t see how amazing you are—not someone who only comes around when it’s convenient for him.”

After Sam and Natasha head home, you find yourself walking through the quiet streets, your hands shoved into your coat pockets. The city hums around you, but you feel untethered, like you’re floating between who you are and who you want to be.

Before you realize it, your feet take you to Bucky’s building. You stop at the corner, staring up at the windows. The lights in his apartment are off, but you know he’s there. He’s always there.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out, your heart sinking when you see his name.

Bucky: You up?

The message is simple, familiar, and infuriatingly tempting. Your thumb hovers over the screen.

You: Yes, just leaving the bar.

Bucky: Ill see you in 20.

You see his light flick on.

You: Okay.

You’re sitting in your apartment with Steve. He’d shown up unexpectedly, a bag of bagels in one hand and a concerned look on his face. Now, he’s watching you carefully as you pick at your food, the silence between you growing heavier by the minute.

“I heard about last night,” he says eventually, breaking the stillness.

You glance up, narrowing your eyes. “Natasha?”

“Sam,” he admits with a small smile, but his expression stays serious. “He’s worried about you. We all are.”

You sigh, leaning back against the couch. “I’m fine, Steve.”

“You’re not fine,” he says gently, setting his coffee down on the table. “And it’s okay to not be fine. But you need to stop punishing yourself for wanting more than what Bucky can give you.”

Your chest tightens, and you look away, your voice barely audible. “He’s not a bad person, Steve. He’s just… broken.”

“I know he is,” Steve says softly, his tone patient but firm. “And I know he cares about you, even if he’s too scared to show it. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep hurting yourself to save him.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you ask the question that’s been clawing at you for days. “Is he seeing anyone else?”

Steve freezes mid-bite, his jaw tightening. “Yes.”

You nod slowly, your hands trembling as you set your plate down on the coffee table. “Are they… are they having sex?”

Steve’s shoulders sag slightly, and he shakes his head. “No.”

The relief you feel is fleeting, quickly replaced by another ache—something deeper, sharper. “He told me he loves me, y’know,” you whisper, your voice cracking.

That makes Steve freeze completely. He sets his bagel down, staring at you with wide, startled eyes. “He said that?”

You nod, the words pouring out of you now, unfiltered and raw. “He’s never said it before. And I didn’t know what to do. Because it felt… real. For a second, it felt like maybe this time was different. But then he was gone the next morning, like always.”

Steve leans back in his chair, his brow furrowed, like he’s trying to process what you’ve just said. “Did he mean it?” he asks finally, his voice cautious.

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes. “I don’t know, Steve. Does it matter? He says one thing, but everything else he does just…” You trail off, shaking your head.

“It matters,” Steve says firmly, leaning forward. “If he loves you, that’s something. But love isn’t enough if he can’t show it, if he can’t make you feel it.” Steve is quiet for a long moment, his expression pained. “You deserve more than that,” he says finally. “You deserve someone who’s not afraid to fight for you. Someone who doesn’t make you feel like you’re asking for too much just by being yourself.”

-----------

The music is loud, pulsing through the crowded bar in a steady rhythm that matches the pounding in your chest. You're friends are off dancing their cares away, while you sit at a small table near the corner, nursing your drink, half-hidden in the dim lighting. The condensation from the glass drips onto your hand, but you barely notice.

Your eyes keep drifting to him.

Bucky is across the room, his arm slung casually around another woman’s shoulders. She’s laughing, tilting her head toward him like he’s just told her the funniest joke in the world. He looks… relaxed. At ease in a way you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s like someone’s taken a knife to your chest, twisting it deeper with every passing second.

You force yourself to look away, staring into the amber liquid in your glass like it holds answers to questions you’re too scared to ask. But it doesn’t work. Your gaze flickers back to him, almost involuntarily.

They’re dancing now, swaying to a song you don’t recognize. His hand rests lightly on her hip, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress in a way that feels too intimate, too familiar.

And then he kisses her.

Not on the lips, but on her head, his lips lingering against her hair as she leans into him. It’s tender, effortless, the kind of gesture that feels natural, like it belongs to someone who knows how to love without hesitation.

Your chest tightens, and you swallow the lump forming in your throat, forcing yourself to take another sip of your drink. The bitterness burns your tongue, but it’s nothing compared to the ache spreading through you.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That this doesn’t matter. That he’s made his choice, and it isn’t you.

But the truth is, it matters too much.

You drain the rest of your drink, the cold liquid going down in one sharp swallow. You set the glass down harder than you mean to, the dull thud lost in the noise of the bar.

You glance over at him one last time, just to confirm what you already know. He’s still there, his attention focused on her.

But then his eyes shift.

He sees you.

For a split second, your gazes lock across the room, and the weight of his stare pins you in place. His hand pauses on her back, and something flickers in his expression—guilt, maybe, or regret.

You can’t tell, and you’re not sure you want to.

The heat of his gaze follows you as you stand, slipping your bag over your shoulder and making your way toward the door. The noise of the bar fades into the background as you weave through the crowd, your footsteps quick and purposeful.

You don’t look back, but you can feel him watching you, his eyes lingering like a phantom touch that burns even after you’re gone.

The cold night air hits your face as you step outside, and you inhale deeply, trying to push the ache in your chest away.

But it stays. It always stays.

That night, you’re curled up on your couch, a blanket wrapped around you as the city lights flicker through the window. Your phone sits on the coffee table, dark and silent.

Until it’s not.

The screen lights up, and Bucky’s name appears. The voicemail notification lingers like a ghost, and your hand trembles as you reach for it.

You press play, his voice cracking through the silence.

“I know I’ve screwed this up. I know I don’t deserve another chance. But I miss you, and I don’t know how to do this without you. Please… just call me, I’m sorry”

-------

You find him outside on the balcony, leaning heavily against the railing, his shoulders hunched like the weight of the world is pressing down on him. The cold night air bites at your skin, and the faint glow of the streetlights below casts shadows that dance across his face. He doesn’t turn when you step out. He never does. That’s the thing about Bucky—he always knows you’re there, but he’s mastered the art of pretending not to.

The sound of the sliding door closing behind you feels final, like you’ve just stepped into a space you won’t come back from. Your arms wrap around yourself, a weak defense against the cold—or maybe against him—and you take a hesitant step forward.

“I thought you left,” you say, breaking the fragile quiet. Your voice wavers, as unsure as the ground you’re standing on.

He finally looks over his shoulder, his eyes heavy and rimmed with shadows. He looks wrecked. Tired in a way that no amount of sleep could fix. “Almost did,” he says softly, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city.

You step closer, your chest tightening at his words, at the way he doesn’t move, doesn’t shift to let you in. “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs, turning back to the skyline, his fingers gripping the railing. “I haven’t heard from you all week.”

The ache in your chest sharpens at his tone, a flicker of hope you hate sneaking in despite yourself. It’s always like this: just enough vulnerability to keep you tethered. You stop a few feet away, the space between you feeling like a canyon, impossible to bridge.

“This isn’t working,” you say, finally voicing the thought that’s been clawing at you for weeks. “Whatever this is. It’s not working, Bucky.”

He doesn’t react at first, just keeps staring out at the city, like it holds an answer he’s too afraid to look for. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and rough. “I know.”

The simplicity of his admission steals your breath. It’s not that you didn’t expect it. You did. You’ve been here before, standing on the edge of this same cliff, waiting for the inevitable fall.

“So why are we still here?” you ask, your voice trembling, tinged with a desperation you wish you could hide.

He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. The motion is frustrated, exhausted, like he’s tired of his own indecision. “Because I don’t know how to stop,” he admits, his words cutting through the night air with brutal honesty.

You take another step closer, close enough to see the tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles turn white as he grips the railing. “Bucky,” you say, your voice soft but breaking. “I need more than this. I need to know if you’re ever going to stop running every time things get hard. Because I can’t keep waiting for you to figure it out.”

He turns to face you then, his blue eyes locking onto yours. There’s something in them—something raw and fragile and so heartbreakingly familiar. For a fleeting second, you think this is it. The moment he’ll finally tell you what you’ve been waiting to hear.

But then he looks away, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know if I can.”

The nausea hits you like a punch, twisting your stomach into knots. You take a shaky step back, wrapping your arms around yourself like it might keep you from falling apart. “Do you even want to try?”

His silence is deafening, an answer in itself.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and sharp. “You’re unbelievable,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I’m standing here, practically begging you to tell me you care, and you can’t even do that.”

“I care,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I care.”

“Do I?” Your voice rises, anger bubbling to the surface, breaking through the pain. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. You say you care, but you act like I’m something you can pick up and put down whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“Stop,” he says, his voice suddenly firm, his eyes snapping back to yours. There’s something desperate in his tone, something pleading that makes your breath hitch. “I don’t… I don’t know how to do this.”

“No, Bucky.” You shake your head, your voice trembling with fury and heartbreak. “You just don’t want to. And there’s a difference.”

The words hang between you, heavy and suffocating. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. His eyes dart back to the city skyline, and you see it—the war he’s waging with himself, the battle between what he wants and what he’s too scared to reach for.

“Say something,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the weight of the moment. “Say anything.”

“I’m seeing someone,” he says suddenly, his hands gripping the railing so tightly you half expect it to snap. The words hit like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

The world around you tilts. Your hands tremble as you take a step back. “Of course you are,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. The bitter laugh that follows feels like it belongs to someone else. “I’m done.”

You turn toward the sliding door, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might shatter. Your hand trembles as you reach for the handle, pausing for just a second, hoping—praying—he’ll stop you. That he’ll fight.

But the silence stretches on, heavier and colder than the night air.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s still standing there, staring down at the city like he’s already let you go.

Your throat tightens, but you force yourself to slide the door open and step back inside. The warmth of the apartment hits you like a slap, but it does nothing to ease the chill in your chest.

The door slides shut with a quiet thud.

And Bucky doesn’t follow.

You’d just moved into a new apartment, one that wasn't tainted with all the places he'd touched, places he'd been. It made things easier it wasn't the reason for your move but it helped. Natasha had decided you were both done unpacking for the night so naturally she had dragged you to a party. Steve’s place, of course. The apartment was alive with the energy of too many people crammed into too little space. Natasha had disappeared into a circle of friends near the kitchen, leaving you to nurse your drink in a corner. That’s when you noticed him.

Bucky.

He was leaning against the wall, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Dark hair falling into his eyes, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder despite the heat of the crowded room. He didn’t see you at first, but when he did, his gaze lingered just long enough to make your pulse race.

You told yourself you wouldn’t approach him, but an hour later, you were pressed against the wall in Steve’s hallway, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your hips like he couldn’t get close enough. It was messy, impulsive, and thrilling.

“We probably shouldn’t,” you’d whispered, your breath catching as his mouth moved against your collarbone.

He’d laughed softly, his voice low and rough. “Yeah. Probably not.”

Neither of you stopped.

There were moments after that—moments that felt like everything you’d ever wanted. Late nights in his apartment, the room dimly lit by the glow of the city outside. He’d lie next to you, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm as you talked about everything and nothing.

He’d tell you about his childhood, the things he rarely told anyone. The weight of his past. And you’d listen, feeling like you were peeling back layers of him that no one else had ever seen.

“You don’t have to fix me,” he’d murmured once, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I like being around you.”

You’d smiled, brushing his hair back from his face. “I’m not trying to fix you, Bucky.”

And in those moments, you weren’t lying.

But then there were the other moments. The ones where he pulled away so fast it left you reeling.

You remember the first time he didn’t text you back. It wasn’t just hours—it was days. Days of overanalyzing every word you’d said to him the last time you saw him. Days of your stomach twisting every time your phone buzzed, only for it to not be him.

When he finally did text, it was so casual it made you want to scream.

“Hey. You good?”

No apology. No explanation. Just like that, he was back. And you let him back in because you didn’t know how not to.

And then there was the jealousy. The way you’d catch him talking to someone else at a party, his body language so open and inviting in a way it rarely was with you. You hated how it made you feel, the bitterness that bubbled up, the way you wanted to pull him aside and demand to know if he cared about you at all.

But you didn’t. You never did.

“Do you even want to move on?” Wanda asks, her tone soft but pointed. “Or is this just who you are now?”

You blink at her, her words cutting through the haze of your thoughts. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

She sighs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “You deserve better, you know that, right?”

The door swings open, and Natasha walks in, dropping her bag on the counter. She gives you a look, one that’s equal parts sympathetic and exasperated.

“Let me guess,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’re thinking about him again.”

You don’t answer, but the way your jaw tightens is enough for her to roll her eyes. “You know he’s not good for you. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“I don’t know,” you snap, harsher than you mean to. “Maybe because it’s not that simple.”

“Actually, it is,” Natasha retorts, her voice sharp. “You stop calling him. You stop answering when he calls. You stop letting him treat you like an afterthought.”

“Nat—” Wanda starts, her tone soothing, but Natasha holds up a hand.

“No, she needs to hear this.” She looks at you again, her expression softening just slightly. “I know you care about him. But caring about him isn’t enough if he doesn’t care about you the same way. At some point, you have to start putting yourself first.”

You glance away, her words hitting too close to home.

“I don’t get you,” you’d once said your voice trembling with frustration. “One minute you’re here, and it feels like—like maybe this could be something. And the next, you’re gone.”

He’d run a hand through his hair, pacing the room. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is, Bucky,” you’d said, your voice rising. “You either want me, or you don’t. So which is it?”

He’d stopped then, turning to look at you. And the look on his face—it wasn’t anger or indifference. It was fear.

“I don’t know,” he’d said finally, his voice breaking.

And that was the worst part.

“You’re spiraling,” Sam said. He wasn’t harsh about it, but he didn’t sugarcoat it either. “This isn’t love. It’s self-destruction.”

Even as you think it, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. The sound feels too loud in the quiet room, pulling everyone’s attention. You glance at the screen, and your heart skips when you see his name. Just his name—no message preview, no context, just him.

Wanda notices, her brow furrowing as she leans forward. “Don’t,” she says softly, but there’s a weight behind the word, a plea. “You’ll just end up back where you started.”

You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the notification. The silence in the room grows heavier, charged with unspoken tension. Your chest tightens as your mind races. It would be so easy. Just one tap, and he’d be there again. One tap, and you’d hear his voice, feel the pull that always brings you back.

“I just…” Your voice falters, your eyes flickering to Wanda and then to Sam, who watches you with a mix of concern and frustration. “What if this time it’s different?”

Sam lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand over his face. “You think this time is different? Come on. What’s he going to say that he hasn’t already said a hundred times before?”

“It’s not about what he says,” Wanda interjects, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s about what he does. And what has he done, really, except hurt you?”

You look back at the screen. The notification is still there, a glaring reminder of the mess you can’t seem to escape. Your thumb presses down slightly, not enough to open it but enough to feel the weight of the choice.

“But I love him,” you whisper. The words tumble out before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered.

Sam exhales sharply, standing up from the chair and pacing across the room. “Yeah, we know. Everyone knows. But does he love you? Because if he does, he’s got a real shitty way of showing it.”

You flinch at his tone, the harshness cutting through your defenses. “He does love me,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him.

“Then where is he?” Sam snaps, turning to face you. “Why isn’t he here, fighting for you instead of blowing up your phone every time he feels lonely? Why is it always you doing the heavy lifting?”

Wanda places a hand on Sam’s arm, pulling him back gently. “Sam…”

“No, I need to say it,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm. “Love isn’t supposed to feel like this. It’s not supposed to feel like you’re drowning every damn day just to keep him afloat.”

The bar is too loud, too crowded, and too filled with memories of Bucky for you to feel at ease. But you’re here because it’s Steve’s birthday, and Natasha had insisted. And of course you came it was Steve.

You’re leaning against the bar, talking to a man you barely know. His smile is easy, his laugh smooth, and even though you’re trying to focus on him, you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you. From across the room, his gaze burns into your back, searing through your dress like a brand.

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes for a split second. The tension in his jaw, the way his drink sits untouched in his hand—it’s the most emotion he’s shown all night. But it’s not enough to stop you.

If he wants to act like he doesn’t care, you’ll give him something to not care about.

The man beside you leans in, his hand brushing against your arm as he says something you don’t quite catch over the noise. You laugh, even though you barely hear the joke. You laugh because you know Bucky is watching.

It doesn’t take long for him to snap.

Before you realize what’s happening, his hand is on your wrist. Firm but not rough, his grip sends a jolt through you. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice low and clipped.

“Excuse me?” You pull back, glaring at him, but his grip doesn’t loosen.

“We’re leaving,” he says, not looking at you, not giving the man beside you so much as a glance.

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s already pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies with single-minded determination.

By the time you reach his apartment, you’re seething. He slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the dimly lit space.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snap, crossing your arms.

“My problem?” he fires back, pacing across the room like a caged animal. “My problem is you acting like that guy meant anything to you!”

“Oh, and you would know what means something to me, right?” You take a step closer, your voice rising. “Because you’re so good at showing me how much I mean to you.”

He stops, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t turn this on me.”

“Why not? It’s always about you, isn’t it, Bucky? What you want, what you feel. You drag me into your mess every time, and I let you, because I—”

You stop yourself, your breath catching.

“Because you what?” he demands, his voice sharp.

“Because I care about you!” you yell, your chest heaving. “And all you ever do is hurt me for it.”

His face twists, like your words hit him somewhere deep. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something, that he’s going to explain or apologize or do something, but instead, he grabs a plate from the counter and hurls it against the wall. The sharp crash reverberates through the room, the pieces scattering across the floor like jagged confessions neither of you are ready to face.

You flinch at the sound, but the fire in your chest burns brighter, fueled by the chaos. “Oh, real mature, Bucky. Breaking dishes? That’s your solution? Just break things until you don’t have to feel anything anymore?”

He grabs another plate, his hand trembling as he grips it, his knuckles white. His voice breaks as he yells, “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t know I’m screwing this up? That I don’t hate myself for it?”

“Then stop!” you shout back, your voice raw and cracking under the weight of it all. “Stop hurting me, stop dragging me back, stop—just stop!”

The plate shakes in his hand, and for a second, you think he’s going to throw it again. Instead, he slams it down on the counter with a hollow thud. His shoulders slump as he leans over it, his head bowed like he’s trying to hold himself together. His breathing is ragged, his hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly you think it might break under the strain.

“I don’t know how,” he whispers finally, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it. “I don’t know how to be what you need.”

The vulnerability in his voice slices through you, but it’s not enough. Not this time. The ache in your chest is unbearable, your heart breaking as you look at the man you love and realize he’ll never love you the way you need him to.

“Then let me go, Bucky,” you say, your voice trembling but resolute. “If you can’t give me what I need, let me go.”

He finally turns to face you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I can’t,” he says, his voice breaking like the plates he just shattered. “I don’t want to let you go.”

Your chest tightens, the pain twisting deeper with every word. “Aren’t you seeing someone?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “She’s not you,” he says, his voice trembling. “They’re never you.”

The admission stuns you into silence for a moment. The tears you’ve been holding back spill over, hot and heavy. “Then why can’t you give me that, Bucky?” you whisper, your voice shaking with anger and grief. “Why can you give it to them but not to me? Why is it always me who’s left bleeding for you? It’s not fair—I give you everything! And you just take, take, take! What’s left of me after this?”

Your words hang between you, raw and unfiltered, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t try to defend himself, doesn’t even try to apologize. He just stares at you, his eyes wide and desperate, like he’s drowning in the mess he’s made.

Then, without warning, he steps forward, grabbing your face in his hands. His touch is rough, almost frantic, his fingers trembling against your skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

And before you can say anything, before you can even catch your breath, his lips crash into yours.

The kiss is desperate and messy, his tears mixing with yours as he pulls you closer like he’s afraid to let go. His hands shake as they cup your face, his lips pressing against yours with a fierceness that makes your knees weak.

You hate how easily you give in, how quickly your hands find their way to his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. The anger and pain and longing all bleed together in that kiss, every unspoken word, every broken promise, every piece of you he’s taken without giving anything back.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and ragged against your skin. “But I can’t lose you. Please… don’t leave me.” He whispers his voice trembling

Your heart shatters all over again. “Okay”

Bucky’s hands tighten on your arms, his breath warm and uneven against your face. His lips hover just above yours, his eyes searching yours for something—permission, maybe, or forgiveness he doesn’t deserve. You don’t give it to him, but you don’t pull away either.

Instead, your hands move on their own, sliding up his chest and curling into the fabric of his shirt. The tension between you snaps like a live wire as he closes the distance again, his mouth crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves no room for hesitation.

The kiss deepens, his lips parting yours, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that sends heat pooling low in your belly. His hands roam down your sides, fingers gripping your hips like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. You press closer, your body molding to his as the frustration and anger between you melt into something darker, hotter, and infinitely more consuming.

Bucky backs you up until your hips hit the edge of the counter, the cool surface biting into your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. His hands slide up your thighs, his touch firm and deliberate as he lifts you onto the counter. You gasp against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as he steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours in all the right ways.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me now.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your chest heaving as you meet his gaze. His blue eyes are dark, filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty that tugs at something deep inside you. “Don’t stop,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

That’s all it takes. He grips the hem of your dress and pulls it up, his hands sliding over your thighs, rough and calloused against your skin. His lips trail down your neck, his stubble scraping lightly against you as he kisses the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your head tilts back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands and mouth make you forget every argument, every broken moment that led you here.

His fingers find the edge of your underwear, his touch teasing as he looks up at you, waiting. You nod, your breath hitching as he slides them aside, his fingers exploring with a skill that leaves you trembling. He watches you intently, his gaze locked on your face as he learns every reaction, every sound you make.

When his name slips from your lips, low and needy, it’s like something inside him snaps. He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the couch with a strength that leaves you dizzy. The world blurs around you, your focus narrowing to the feel of his body against yours, the weight of his hands, the intensity of his gaze.

“You’re all I think about,” he says, his voice raw as he settles over you. “Every damn day.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. The only response you can give is the way you arch into him, the way you pull him closer, needing him as much as he needs you. And when he finally joins you, it’s slow and deliberate, every movement designed to pull you deeper into the storm of him.

The morning light seeps through the curtains as you stand by his window, fully dressed, the quiet hum of the city below serving as your only company. Bucky is still asleep in the bed, his arm draped across the pillow where you had been just hours ago. You glance at him one last time, your heart clenching in your chest. For a fleeting moment, you consider crawling back into bed, letting yourself believe in the softness of this moment.

But you can’t.

You quietly grab your things and slip out the door, the sound of it clicking shut behind you feeling heavier than it should.

By mid-morning, you’ve buried yourself in mundane errands—anything to keep your mind from circling back to him. You’re at the farmer’s market now, weaving through the stalls of fresh produce and flowers, the air filled with the faint scent of lavender and bread. You clutch a tote bag tightly in your hand, trying to focus on the vibrant colors of the fruit in front of you.

You pick up an apple, turning it over in your hand absently. It’s almost enough to distract you from the ache still lodged in your chest. Almost.

Until you see him.

You freeze, the apple slipping from your grasp and thudding softly onto the wooden table in front of you. Your breath catches, and the world seems to narrow until it’s just him, standing only a few stalls away.

His dark hair catches the sunlight, and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed, like the night before never ended. His eyes are locked on yours, wide and filled with a mix of emotions you can’t quite place—shock, guilt, something softer that makes your chest tighten painfully.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, suspended in time. Everyone else around you fades into nothing, their chatter and laughter muffled like the background of a dream.

But then your gaze shifts.

To her.

The woman standing beside him.

Her hand is clasped firmly in his, their fingers intertwined in a way that feels too familiar, too intimate. She’s beautiful, her expression warm and open as she looks up at him, clearly unaware of the storm brewing between his gaze and yours.

Your stomach twists violently, and the apple you’d forgotten about rolls off the edge of the table and hits the ground.

Bucky’s face changes when he sees you notice her, his eyes softening with guilt, his mouth parting as if he wants to say something, anything. But he doesn’t.

He just stands there, holding her hand, while your chest caves in.

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you force yourself to look away, your vision blurring with unshed tears. You clutch your tote bag tighter and turn, walking away without another word.

You barely make it out of the market before the tears spill over. You wipe them away furiously, your hands trembling as you duck into a side street, out of view from the crowds.

The weight of his gaze lingers on your back, like a hand reaching out but never quite touching you. You can feel him watching you, but you don’t dare turn around. You can’t.

You stop for a moment, your chest heaving as you lean against the wall of a brick building. The morning sun feels too bright, the world too loud despite the hollow silence pounding in your ears.

He didn’t follow.

You told yourself you didn’t want him to, but the ache in your chest says otherwise.

When you glance back toward the market, just for a second, you see him standing at the edge of the stalls, his hand no longer in hers, his face etched with something that looks like regret.

But he doesn’t move.

And neither do you.

With a deep breath, you wipe your face one last time, adjust the strap of your tote bag, and walk away. The weight in your chest feels unbearable, but your feet keep moving anyway.

The apartment is quiet that night, the silence pressing down on you as you sit by the window, staring out at the city lights. You tell yourself you’re not waiting for him, but your phone sits beside you on the windowsill, the screen dark but heavy with possibilities.

It’s almost midnight when the buzz breaks the silence. You glance at the screen, your heart stopping when you see his name.

The message is simple. “Please, can we talk? I miss you…I’m sorry”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic #james barnes x you #james barnes imagine #bucky banres #seb stan fanfic

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lanabuckybarnes · 6 months ago

Text

| Dinner Distraction |

18+ Minors DNI

Dinners with Bucky’s clients can be mind numbingly boring. After trying your hardest to be good for him the lack of entertainment is getting to you, all you need is to gome with your husband but hes making it hard for you. So you play the only way you know how.

✧Pairing✧ Mafia Boss!Bucky x Wife!Reader

✧Warnings✧ alcohol consumption, Brat!Reader, Public teasing, Voyeurism (not really but to be sure), Bondage, Rope tying, Collar, Punishments, Alluding to spanking, Masturbation (M), DIrty talk, Daddy kink, Name calling, Degrading, Humilation (itty bitty), [Petnames; Dove, Angel, Whore, Brat, Baby] — I believe that is all, any more that you find please let me know so that I can add them onto this list.

✧Word Count✧ 1.5K

✧Author Note✧ The writers block has been hitting me hard so i really hope this is up to scratch because ya boy has been struggling to enjoy her own writing lmao. Also please forgive any mistakes as I have skimmed over this — I may look at it again later and fix them or I might just leave it. Who knows.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you were playing with fire. Bucky’s meals were extravagant and over the top but extremely important to his business, a long table full of men and their ladies all wishing to discuss deals and arrangements with your husband. But to you, they were like watching paint dry. You downed your third wine listening to incredibly dull trips to the Maldives or men competing passive aggressively for the title of wealthiest idiot at the table.

By the time dessert rolled around you could’ve cried due to lack of entertainment, not even Bucky’s conversation was keeping you satisfied and with no excitement seemingly on the horizon you took matters into your own hands.

“Buck” you trill into your husband’s ear, trailing manicured nails up the thickness of his thigh before he rests his veiny hand on top of it halting your path to the finishing line between his legs. The brunette turned, flashing you a soft pearly white smile and kissing your cheek, murmuring about how beautiful you looked. Just when you thought you had your man’s attention he averted his gaze back to the balding man and his much younger bride. The things money could buy

You huff, a teeny kiss wasn’t good enough. You’d have to pull out the big guns.

“Bucky” you whine in his ear, making sure your lips brushed over the shell. With a quick look at the man, he excused himself from the conversation and turned to you again.

“What is it dove?”

The sound of his deep voice rumbling out the petname sent an involuntary shiver down the length of your body.

“I’m bored”

“It won’t be too much longer Angel, then we’ll take you home alright?” He chuckles at the way you bat your eyelashes at him, your lips pushed out in a soft pout which he gladly kisses.

No, it was definitely not alright. You wanted to go home and have fun with your man now, not in an hour. With the way Gemma kept prattling on about her one hundred thousand dollar ring you were sure you wouldn’t even be cognitive enough to breathe in an hour much less do what you wanted alone with Bucky.

“But-“

His blue eyes steeled quickly, his hand squeezing yours with a looming threat,

“No buts Dove, I’m warning you.”

Bucky should’ve known you weren’t one to heed his warnings, he’d spanked your ass raw enough times for him to know that you simply did not care for his threats — in fact, you quite enjoyed the feeling of his handprint on your ass. So why would you listen to him now?

You waited until his guard was down, sipping your drink silently, pretending to listen in on another conversation while he immersed himself back in his. He didn't bat an eye when you moved your laced hands from his lap into yours, your thumb tracing over the webbing veins.

He almost choked when his fingers dipped into something wet and hot, your thighs securing around his wrist telling him all he needed to know. He stood up so quickly that his chair almost fell, startling the guests around him. His hand grabbed at your arm, slick digits pressing into it almost painfully but you only smirked. You were getting what you wanted.

“Sorry for the suddenness but my wife…” he glared over at you, the muscles in his cheek twitching sad he clenched his jaw tight, “isn’t feeling too good. My assistant will reach out to you all about our agreements and the date for our next meal.”

With a wave he commanded all of his men out of the restaurant, each suited man making their way to the blacked-out SUVs parked outside. You stumbled as he dragged you along, his hand dropping to your ass and squeezing tight.

“You are such a fucking little whore, just you wait” It should’ve been embarrassing how wet you got at his growl. The ride home was tense and silent, you remained as still as the air around you, fearing that a single movement would bring about Bucky’s wrath in the backseat of the car. Not that you would’ve minded but you liked the old driver too much to put him through something like that.

Everything blurred as the car parked outside the house, Bucky slipping out first before helping you out too. He dragged you quickly to the huge master bedroom and rummaged around the closet for a box. You gulped at its sight, it could only mean one thing.

You whine, tugging on the pretty pink rope tied expertly around your wrists and thighs, keeping them closed. The rope makes sure your wrists are tied to the length of rope around your thighs so that you can’t touch yourself or Bucky. The bell on your collar rings softly as you lurch a little closer to the man not even a foot away from you.

His legs cage you into your chair, spread wide leading up towards his leaking cock, freed from its confines and dribbling profusely over his navy slacks. He doesn’t seem to care about soiling himself though, his bored eyes bore into you, one hand rests against the side of his head while the other drums against the hardwood of the chair.

“So desperate” he tuts, chastising you for squirming around under his eyes. His thigh knocks into your knee when you move around again.

“Sit still brat. You wanted this, the second you opened that slutty mouth you were begging for it.” He chuckles darkly as you hang your head at the nickname, hiding the deep blush on your cheek and glossy, lust-filled eyes. Bucky had spent years studying you, he could read you like a book; your body may as well have been his own he knew it that well.

The brunette gripped your cheeks in a bruising vice, forcing you to look up at him with pouted lips. Your faces were so close that your nose brushed against his, whining deep in your throat bubbling forth at the minimal contact.

“You keep those fucking eyes on me, at all times. Or I’ll bring out the paddle” he warns and you whimper at the thought. A long dark leather paddle Bucky only used when you misbehaved, he knew you hated it with a passion, not because it hurt but because it didn't have the right shape — you much preferred Bucky’s handprint against your cheek than that thing.

“Aww, don't want the paddle?” He mocks, pouting his lips before laughing and pushing you back into the chair by your face. “You better behave then slut.”

He groans as his big hand wraps around his length, sucking his lip into his mouth at the little pleads and whimpers you let out when he began to jerk himself slowly, almost too slowly but he knew how much you hated it when he played with himself. Especially if you couldn’t help.

“Da-“ you mewl, slumping into your seat when the only response you receive is a sharp grunt as his hand twisted over his raging red tip.

“Fuck baby feels so good. Wish it was your hand — mmm yeah. But bad girls don't get what they want, do they? And I know you fucking want this.” He continued cursing and moaning. His hips thrust up to meet his hand, his eyes squeezing shut and his head lulling back.

“You soaking that fucking chair angel hm? Bet you are, don't even try shaking that head — not that you could — you’re too busy drooling for daddy’s cock ain’t you?” He smiles wickedly at the soft slurping sound you made when you realised you were actually drooling for him.

“Daddy need you please, I’m sorry for teasing you but I was so bored and horny. Needed you so bad…please” you beg, your eyes wide and tits jumping as you bounced in desperation on the chair. Bucky had never met a bigger cock slut, your whimpering and begging shooting straight to his balls, sending him over the edge.

“Ohh shit, fuckfuckfuckfuck” he continued to fist his cock as white-hot pleasure seeped into his veins and out his dick, spurting all over his hand. You sob, mouth opened instinctively but you couldn’t taste it. That’s what you got for being a bad girl.

Bucky wasted no time, standing and making his way to the bathroom. When he returned he was completely clean, save for the stain on his slacks. You wanted to cry at all the cum he wasted when you could’ve had it. Your husband's hand settled on the top of your head, his worst soft and almost intelligible as he cooed his praises.

“There we go angel you did so good” you preen at his sweet nothings, nuzzling your head into him. “But daddy’s still gotta teach you a lesson okay?” With a swift tug, the ropes fell from around your wrists and thighs. He gave you a little minute to rub any pain from them before ordering you around again.

“Turn around, hands on the back of the chair and stick that pretty little ass out for me” he spoke, grunting at the sight of you sitting all obediently, one of his hands spread your cheek wide, giving him the perfect view of your creamy folds.

“Such a horny little baby. That’s alright Daddy will help soon.”

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page i have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fix please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what i read and give me motivation to write more.

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cattordi · 2 years ago

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a/n did y’all miss me??? writing this in class 🤗 so enjoy. honestly felt like i write absolutely too much abt absolutely nothing

summary you get a flat tire on the way to a party and on top of that you’re in the middle of nowhere so you call bucky to help you

pairings brothersbestfriend!mechanic!bucky barnes x collegestudent!reader

warnings smut , breeding, praise, not proofread, choking, foul language, arguing?,a bit of fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

don’t test me

“only this would happen to me” you groan before pulling your car over in the absolute middle of nowhere.

you were on the way to a spring break party but clearly the universe had other plans. getting out of your car, you walk around to check out the damage.

low and behold, a flat tire.

“no fucking way.” you whisper. you were miles away from a gas station or any sort of place other people were. grabbing your phone from your back pocket of your jean shorts, you scroll through your contacts finding your brothers name.

you place the phone to your ear and sit for a bit letting it ring.

and ring.

and ring. until finally you’re sent to voicemail.

what the fuck?

you hesitate as you keep scrolling through your contacts looking at other options of help; until you finally reach that one person.

bucky.

your least favorite human to ever walk the earth but you could never deny how he made you feel sometimes.

the man was good with his words, you have to admit it.

only problem was, he was your brothers best friend and also a dick.

pressing the call button, you wait as the phone rings.

“please pick up, plea-“

“hey y/n, what’s up?” he says and there’s shuffling in the background.

“hey, i’m sorry to bother.”

no you aren’t.

“i got a flat tire and i need help changing it. if you can’t that’s fi-“

“where are you?”

“in the middle of nowhere.”

“what the hell? get in your car and send me your location. i’ll be there in 15.”

knowing you’re at least 30 minutes out of town, you comply and wait.

after what feels like 20 years, bright head lights blind you from behind and you sit up in your car. your drivers side door flies open and a pissed bucky stares at you.

“you could’ve at least locked the door y/n. hell you could’ve gotten murdered.”

rolling your eyes you get out, “didn’t think anyone would even be out here at this time of night.”

“don’t start with your attitude.” he begins while pulling a car jack out his truck, “i’m not in the mood.”

“whatever.”

“why are you even out here this late?”

“what are you my dad?”

“no but i’m your brothers best friend and i have the right to know.”

“it’s none of your busines.” you say and glare at him.

“tell me.”

“no.”

“y/n..” he basically growls at you.

“no.”

“i swear if you don’t tell me.”

you can see the frustration in his face so to be a brat, you keep going.

“i was going to get fucked.” you say and try not to laugh.

visible jealousy crosses his face and he stands from his squatted position. “you what?”

“i was going to have sex? is that a prob-“ you begin but are cut off by a hand around your throat.

“you know that pisses me off, so why keep pushing it? hm?” he hums the last part, “you tryna get to me darling?”

you do the best you can to nod as pleasure filled tears brim your eyes.

this is what you always wanted from him.

his metal hand slims into your shorts finding your clit. “do you want me to take you in my truck?”

you nod and his eyes go dark, taking a bit of the pressure off your throat.

if anyone passed by, you’re sure the police would be called.

“use your words.”

“yes.”

“good job baby.”

you both walk to his truck, him following behind you.

he opens the door to the back for you and you hop in immediately filled with even more excitement.

as soon as he closes the door behind the two of you, his lips attack yours. though you’re in such a small space it feels just right for the two of you.

pulling at your shorts, bucky unbuttons them and pulls them down with your underwear.

he takes notices of the wet spot on your panties and chuckles. “so wet for me already.”

his hand slids between your folds; coating every inch of you before two fingers slide in.

you gasp at the stretch and his pace only gets faster. “you feel so tight around my fingers baby.”

“i’m gonna cum.”

he stops and you’re immediately pissed off. “why’d you stop?”

“i want you to cum when i’m you.”

you hadn’t notice his jeans were down but his dick caught your full attention,

and my lord was it big.

“it’s not gonna fit.”

“oh it will. lay back for me.” he says calmly all the while, lining up at your entrance.

the anticipation wears off as soon as he slams in you and begins moving. the truck fills with sounds of moans and skin slapping.

“you’re so tight, i love it.” he says and his strokes become faster.

“you’re so big.” you say in between moans. “i’m getting so close.”

“you’re doing so well,” he begins and leans down to kiss you, “you take me so well.”

you’re getting closer and closer to coming everytine he hits your sweet spot and it couldn’t feel any better. “harder please.” you moan and he complies immediately, thrusting into you.

“i’m gonna cum.” you say and at that moment his thumb finds your clit and rubs big meaningful circles.

“my lord darling, you feel so good around me. it’s taking everything in me not to cum right now.”

he continues to thrust into you getting you closer and closer to what you both desire. “i’m cumming bucky.”

“i feel you darling, keep going. you’re squeezin’ me so tight.” he begins and you continue to cum around his cock,”i’ve waited for this for long baby.”

yours moans get louder as when grabs your legs and puts him on his shoulder, making his thrust hit a different spot inside of you. “y/n..” he moans, “fuck you’re making me fun babydoll.”

with that, his continues his fast thrust hitting your g-spot repeatedly till he comes.

warm spurts of cum fill you as his thrust slow down and eventually come to a halt. “holy fuck that was the best sex i’ve had in a long time..” you say while trying to catch your breath.

“you wanna go again?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #seb stan smut #sebstanedit #sebastian stan imagine

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greengoblinswifey · 1 month ago

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Dream Come True

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Sebastian Stan x Actress!reader

Summary— you’ve expressed desire to be between both sebastian and nicholas at the same time so they make your dream a reality. based on this request.

Warnings— possessiveness, threesome, unprotected sex, double creampie, praise kink, degradation, oral(m&f receiving), anal, double penetration, size kink.

A/n—i promise i’m working on all your requests as quickly as i can. i know this is shorter than my usual but enjoy either way🙄 <3 ALSO thank you guys so much for 4000+ followers, I appreciate it so much, i love you all <33

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Sebastian moaned as your walls fluttered around him, finally adjusting to his size so he could move.

“You feel so good, just as I imagined,” he breathed, rutting into you steadily.

You hummed around Nicholas’ thick cock inside your mouth, the vibrations making him shiver.

“You love being praised, don’t you sweetheart?” Nicholas asked, reaching down to squeeze your tits.

You had been working as a supporting actress for the two men in their new film, it was your first big role and you were excited. Even more so with the whom you were working under. Now, you found yourself under both men.

A shrill moan left your lips as Sebastian repeatedly brushed that sweet spot inside you. Your toes curled and you squirmed under the weight of his big hands pressing you into the bed.

“Your dreams came true, didn’t they, baby?” Nicholas asked. It was almost mocking, he knew you wouldn’t be able to answer with his cock in your both and Sebastian’s cock buried inside your pussy.

Both men had overhead you talking with a cast mate about how it would be a “dream come true” to be trapped between both of the muscular men. You’d do anything to have them use you.

Now, here you were.

“She’s so fucking tight,” Sebastian moaned, reaching down to rub your swollen clit. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked down to see the outline of his cock moving inside you. He was so big, just stretching you open so you could take all of him.

“And this mouth of hers? Fucking unreal,” Nicholas retorted, “she’s so perfect.”

You could feel the coil in your abdomen tighten at their praises, signaling you were close to your release.

Nicholas’ head tipped back as you began gliding your tongue across his shaft. You nipped at the sensitive skin then moved down to his balls, taking them into your mouth and humming in content. Sebastian continued slamming into you, the sight of you sucking Nicholas’ cock, making him dizzy.

“Cum on my cock, slut,” Sebastian demanded. He rubbed your clit faster and your back arched from the bed, a deep moan leaving you as you creamed on his cock. Your body shivered under his touch but his pace was relentless.

“That’s a good girl, but we’re not done with you yet, we’re going to use you until we’re satisfied,” he said, blue eyes somehow, dark.

Sebastian flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up to him and his hands tightened their grip on your thighs. His mouth moving against your pussy in slow, deliberate licks. Every swipe of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you press harder against his face.

“You taste amazing,” Sebastian muttered, his voice muffled but full of raw desire. “Keep sucking his cock, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

“God, you’re incredible,” Nicholas groaned, his voice shaking. He tugged lightly on your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze for a moment. “I can’t believe I’m sharing this moment with you and him.”

The praise from both men wrapped around you like a blanket, their words fueling your movements against Sebastian and on Nicholas’ cock. Nicholas’ breath grew ragged, and his hips bucked slightly into your mouth.

Sebastian chuckled behind you, his low laugh vibrating through your body. “You better not be complaining,” he teased, his voice playful but thick with arousal.

Nicholas smirked, his fingers tracing your jawline. “Not a chance.”

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, the rhythm of your head bobbing on Nicholas’ thick cock syncing with Sebastian’s steady hold and both their breathless gasps.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Sebastian murmured, his voice reverent as he kissed along your holes. “You were made for us.”

Nicholas’ breathing grew heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair as his hips moved with your rhythm. “Just like that,” he moaned. “You’re so good with that mouth, baby. Taking me so well, look at you, desperate to please.”

Behind you, Sebastian chuckled darkly, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open as his tongue continued its relentless movements. “She is desperate,” he said, his voice muffled against your pussy. “Can’t get enough of us, can you?”

You moaned around Nicholas, your response muffled but undeniable. The vibration sent a jolt through him, and his grip on you faltered for a moment.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his head tipping back as his chest heaved. “You’re going to make me lose it. You want that, don’t you? Want me to cum for you?”

Sebastian’ grip on your ass tightened, and he paused just long enough to growl, “Answer him.”

You pulled back slightly, your lips brushing his cock as you gasped, “Yes, I want it. Please.”

Nicholas’ smirk turned wicked, his hand caressing your cheek with surprising tenderness. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Such a pretty thing, begging for it.”

His hips bucked one last time as he came down your throat with a shuddering moan, his hand still tangled in your hair. He watched you intently, his eyes dark with satisfaction as you swallowed every bit, your lips glistening when you finally pulled away.

“God, you’re perfect,” Nicholas said, his voice soft now.

Sebastian shifted behind you, pulling you up slightly and turning your face toward him. His thumb brushed against your swollen lips, his blue eyes raking over your face. “So fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, his voice low. “A mess for us. Look at you—our perfect little toy.”

You whimpered as he guided your ass back against him, his hand sliding down to toy with your pussy.

Nicholas chuckled, leaning back as he ran a hand through his hair. “She’s too greedy to stop now,” he said. “Isn’t that right?”

You nodded weakly, your body trembling as Sebastian’ hand moved against your clit as his tongue slurped your holes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“Say it,” Sebastian commanded, his tone soft but insistent. “Say how much you need us.”

“I need you,” you said breathlessly, your voice breaking as your body tensed under their combined attention. “I need both of you.”

Nicholas leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “That’s right, sweetheart. You need us to ruin you, don’t you? To remind you who you belong to.”

Sebastian’s laugh was low and full of promise. “You’re ours now,” he murmured, his hands steadying you as you cried out, the waves of release washing over you. “Such a good girl, taking everything we give you.”

As you trembled between them, Nicholas pressed a kiss to your temple.

Sebastian’s hand slid up to tilt your chin, his lips brushing yours in a possessive kiss. “She knows she’s ours,” he said, his voice low. “And she loves every second of it.”

His strong hands gripped your waist firmly as he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against his broad chest. Nicholas was in front of you, his lips parted, his sharp jawline tense as he drank in the sight of you caught between them.

“Look at you,” Nicholas muttered, his voice thick with desire as he guided your hips to align with him. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? You wanted this, dreamed of being right here.”

Sebastian chuckled darkly behind you, his breath hot against your ear. “And now she’s got it,” he murmured, his tone filled with both mockery and praise. “Two men making her feel exactly how she’s always wanted.”

You gasped as Nicholas thrusted into your pussy, stretching you almost painfully, only to feel Sebastian follow from behind, filling your ass completely. The sensation was overwhelming, their bodies pressing into you from both sides, trapping you in a feeling that left you trembling.

“God, you’re so tight,” Sebastian moaned, his voice rough as his fingers dug into your hips. “Taking us both in your holes like the good little slut you are.”

Nicholas tilted your chin up with his hand, forcing your teary eyed gaze to meet his. “You’re doing so well,” he said, his voice softening slightly, though the smirk never left his lips. “Letting us ruin you like this. Bet you’ll never forget it.”

The rhythm they set was relentless, their powerful thrusts perfectly synced as they moved against you. Every stroke pushed you further towards a powerful orgasm, their muscles rippling around you as they worked together to overwhelm every sense you had.

“You feel so fucking amazing,” Sebastian growled, his teeth grazing the back of your neck. “We’re going to break you, sweetheart, make sure you never look at anyone else the way you look at us.”

Nicholas moaned as his pace quickened, his hands gripping your thighs to steady you. “She’s already ours,” he said, his voice strained but confident. “Look at her, she’s a whore for us. Aren’t you?”

You moaned in response, unable to form words as pleasure wracked your body. Nicholas laughed breathlessly, leaning closer until his lips brushed yours. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured. “Our perfect little slut, taking everything we give her.”

Sebastian’s hand slid around your waist to press against your stomach and pressing against Nicholas’s cock moving in your belly. He held you tightly as his movements became rougher. “You like this, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice dark. “Being filled completely, both of us making sure you know exactly who you belong to.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as the pressure built, your body arching between theirs. “You’re ours,” Nicholas said again, his voice fierce as his hands tangled in your hair. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the pleasure became too much. “Both of yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Sebastian rasped, his movements faltering as he abruptly came in your ass. “So good for us.”

Nicholas moaned as he followed, his hips snapping against your pussy one last time before he pulled you into a possessive kiss. “We’ve ruined you for anyone else,” he murmured against your lips.

They held you there for a moment, their muscular bodies pressing into you as your breaths mingled. “Better than any other man ?” Nicholas teased, his lips curving into a sly smile.

Sebastian chuckled low in your ear, his hands still gripping your waist. “She knows we are.”

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multifandomsish · 7 months ago

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A/N: an au where Buckys a mechanic, requested by anon 🫶🏻

pls don’t hate me for how short this is but i wanted to get it out 😭

i wanted to leave this one kind of open and not a lot of detail! i feel like with how i decided to end this one, there’s definitely options for it to keep going if this is popular enough 👀

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please send me a request for any Marvel character! or vikings characters too! i’m open to just about any request!

TW: flirting, shyness, embarrassment, kissing.

A warm summer day seemed like the perfect time to go for a drive, but that was proving to be a bad idea as your car rumbled angrily rolling into the parking lot of a small town mechanics shop an hour and a half from where you live. “This has to be just my luck..” you grumble to yourself as you step one foot at a time out of your car, pushing the door closed and walking around, heading towards the shop.

You definitely stood out here with your tight fitting gym leggings and sports bra top, your typical gym attire that felt normal to wear in a gym of strangers working out just like you. But now that you were the only person dressed like this, you felt a small bit of insecurity boiling in your stomach at the thought of eyes on you. If you hadn’t needed help with your car to get back home, you wouldn’t have even made the stop but you felt you had no choice but to have it quickly checked out.

All of the car bay doors are open but not a soul is in sight, the assumption passing through your mind that everyone may be in the office of the shop hidden behind darkly tinted windows. A bell jingles just above your head as you push the slightly heavy metal and glass door open, the smell of oil and something hitting your nose. It takes a quick sweep of your eyes to see there’s three men behind the long desk in the center of the room, another man standing in the doorway leading to the garage where they work. It seems as though your presence makes the atmosphere go quiet.

The man standing in the doorway to the garage catches your eye, almost makes your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. He has beautifully messy brown hair and striking blue eyes, gorgeously muscled arms that are crossed over his tight broad chest. You’ve never seen anyone like him and you really wish you could get a better look at the name patch on his black button down work shirt that’s completely opened, exposing a white tank underneath. The only letters on the patch you can see are a B and Y, your brain wracking for names.

As your brain is trying to piece together a name, you offer a quick and soft friendly smile to the men, clearing your throat gently. “Hi uh- I was.. I was having some issues with my car while on a drive and this was the closest shop I could get to. I was afraid it may breakdown, is there anyone that might be able to take a look at it?” You get out, shyness taking over your senses as your cheeks begin to feel warm, knowing they’re slowly beginning to glow red.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see the man in the doorway shift his weight on his feet as you maintain eye contact with the man right behind the desk. “Why of course ma’am, Buck, you mind going with her and seeing if we can’t help her out?” The man politely asks, clean blonde hair slicked back and just as piercing blue eyes as, who you assume is Buck, has. He’s the one to make a move, pushing himself off the doorway he’s leaned against and taking a step forward, unfolding his arms.

“Of course, not a problem.” Buck offers you a friendly smile as your eyes meet his and it feels as though your stomach does a thousand flips in just seconds. You already know with as awkward as you are, this may not end very well.

You follow behind Buck, just a few steps away, back out of the shop door and towards your car in the small parking lot. “So, what’s going on with it?” He speaks up, the sound of his deep warm voice making your bones tingle.

“I uh.. I was driving down the highway when it started to shake and it kind of smelt like something was burning. Then the check engine light came on the further I drove so I decided it was best to try and find a shop somewhere as close as I could.” You explain, unlocking your car and handing Bucky the keys. You watch as he gets in the driver seat, flipping the key in the ignition just enough to turn the dash on.

After the check engine light comes on, he gets out and motions for you to wait just a second before heading towards one of the open bay doors. He grabs a little handheld machine from what you presume is his area of work before heading back towards you to plug in this machine to your car in hopes it’ll tell him exactly what the check engine light is for.

As he’s waiting for the machine to load you have a second to watch his features and look him over, admiring the way the sun glistens off his skin and makes his hair shine too. You can see the peak of pale white skin under the sleeve of his work t shirt he’s wearing, a line where his tan starts and ends, making a smile form on your lips.

He glances up just seconds before the machine loads, to catch your eyes on him before you quickly look away in embarrassment, wondering if you’d just been caught being a creep. Though in Bucky’s mind, he’s dying to get a good look at you just as you have him.

“Hmm, this isn’t good..” Bucky says once he’s looked down at the handheld, reading what it’s telling him. “You’re having transmission problems.” He explains, glancing back up at you for a second. Your eyes widen then lower as you listen to him, nodding your head.

“That’s expensive isn’t it?” You ask with a soft laugh, pushing your stray hairs out of your face as you glance your car over. “Is it possible for me to make it home? I’m about an hour and a half away.” You ask, chewing on your bottom lip afraid of the answer.

Bucky makes a soft noise with your second question, eyes meeting yours and he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “You might be lucky to make it another thirty to forty five minutes, but not the whole way home.” He says, unplugging the machine and standing up, eyes drifting down your body as you’re not paying attention to him.

“Let me go talk to my boss, Steve, and see if we can’t work something out to where we can fix your car and get you home for the night, okay?” Bucky offers, sensing a feeling of stress coming from you though it seems to ease with his offer.

“Oh you don’t have to do that! I wouldn’t expect for you to have to worry about getting me home, that’s sweet though, thank you.” You tell Bucky, a giddy smile on your lips at the thought of him going as far as to getting you home safe.

Bucky chuckles and he shakes his head, rough hand running through his hair as the two of you make your way back towards the shop. “Steve might actually write me up if I just let you be to figure it out yourself.” He grins, looking to you. “And anyways, helping a pretty girl like yourself is no weight on my shoulders.” He offers a playful wink that makes your cheeks heat again.

With the nerves that Buckys wink has sent through your body, you stumble over your own two feet stepping back into the shop, nearly face planting onto the stained tile flooring but a strong hand catches you from behind, pulling you into his broad body to bring you back into a standing position. Even more nerves run through you, but the good kind of nerves. The kind that make you yearn for the feeling again and again.

“Watch your step darlin, don’t need you takin a trip to the hospital too.” His breath fans across your ear but you steady your feet to take a step away from him to maybe calm the pounding of your heart in your chest, trying to feign a prideful smile.

“I’m okay, I got it.” You laugh, Bucky hesitating a second before he steps around you and towards the desk where Steve is watching the two of you intently, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Bucky leans half across the desk so there’s little space between him and Steve, keeping his voice fairly low. “Listen, her cars having transmission issues. It’s gonna need a decent fix and she’s an hour and a half from home, let me give her a ride and I’ll work on the car for the night.” Bucky whispers, watching the way Steve’s expression grows even more knowing.

Steve slightly glances around Bucky at you, standing there glancing around the shop waiting room like a lost duck. He gives a soft little laugh and he nods his head at Bucky. “Go ahead, just, hurry back. You do have work to do. No dilly dallying.” Steve says, raising his brows at Bucky and Bucky grins wide at his friend and boss. “You’re the fucking best, man.” He nods, patting Steve’s shoulder and turning around back to you with a smile.

“You okay with me giving you a lift? Of course as small as this town is, a taxi won’t come all the way out and take you back.” Bucky says and you shrug your shoulders. “Id really appreciate a ride back.” You nod, smiling at him and he pulls keys from his pocket.

“You can grab whatever you need from your car, we should be done with it in a day or two depending on everything wrong.” Bucky states and you head back to your car as he heads around the building to pull his old model Chevy around to the front. With your purse and gym bag from the trunk, you climb in the passenger seat of Buckys truck, him patiently waiting for you to settle and get buckled before pulling onto the highway and back towards your town.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #seb #sebastian #sebastian stan #marvel imagine #marvel smut

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lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky · 1 year ago

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@animavelita over on tiktok has me all up in my unholy thoughts

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year ago

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Something Old, Something New

Title: Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Fandom: The 355

Word Count: 9.5K (whoopsie)

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Warnings: infidelity, divorce, recreational drug use (marijuana), drinking, mutual pining, pet names (Gumdrop, baby), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v sex, mention of bodily fluids (creampie), public sex, if I forgot anything please tell me

A/N1: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Nick Fowler BINGO were: divorced, best friend’s brother, writer’s choice(prompt #802 from @creativepromptsforwriting), drunken confession, public sex. BINGO card at end of story.

A/N2: I have been working on this story for weeks and I really hope I have done the Nick Fowler fandom justice. It's my first time, and hopefully not the last time, writing for Nick. I thoroughly enjoyed writing him. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Three Months Ago

The cardstock was rigid in your hands, the envelope discarded seconds ago. The confetti in the envelope litters around your Chucks as you bring your attention to the words embossed upon the invitation. You had been waiting for this day ever since you received the Save the Date announcement.

You ran your finger over the pretty lettering, its raised borders were a nice tactile touch. The peaceful pink, whispered white, and mellow merlot of the flowers against a hint of golden accents was a beautiful choice. Not too feminine, nor too masculine.

Turning the invitation over, you found more information.

‘Accommodations will be completely covered for your 8-night stay at The Ocracoke Harbor Inn by the family of the Bride. You will be staying in the fully-furnished Treasure Chest Cottage. Amenities include full-service linens, complimentary wireless Internet, and guest boat docking. Guests have access to a sound-side beach. Password for WI-FI given upon check-in. Nonsmoking, no pets.’

Leave it to the Fowlers to go nuts and rent out the entire inn for their only daughter’s wedding, you thought to yourself. You were not surprised at all, growing up as a rich girl’s best friend had its perks.

As if on cue, your phone started to play the opening notes of Losing You by Solange to signal an incoming call. Pulling your phone out, you smiled seeing Deanne’s name. You clicked Accept and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hello to the future Mrs. Alexander!” Your cheery demeanor not letting on how jealous you were of your friend’s impending nuptials.

Euphonious laughter rings through the earpiece and you can’t help but join in.

“Girl, can you believe it? I am about to tie the knot, be off the market, and settle down. I’m only 12% nervous about everything so I’m doing great,” she snorted, and suddenly you were a bit less jealous if this kind of anxiety is what she had to deal with, “Anyway, um, I was giving you a call because I wanted to ask if you got your invitation and I also wanted to see if I could save myself time in waiting for your R.S.V.P. and bug and pester you until you agree to let my parents pay for you to come spend a week with us and come to my wedding and–”

“Deanne! Stop with the run-on sentence, doll. Did you think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? God, I love that you chose Ocracoke as your wedding destination. So many vacations were spent getting into all kinds of trouble,” you recalled, images of splashing in the water as kids and lounging on the beach as teens replayed in your mind.

“Yeah. Hey, when we were little girls planning our dream weddings, I was serious when I said I wanted it on the beach on Ocracoke Island. But not in the summer because of bugs and heat, but in the winter so we get that beautiful off-season fresh air,” Deanne mused.

“Dee, it’s gonna be gorgeous. I cannot wait to see you in your stunning dress walking down that aisle. Just know that since I am your oldest friend, you pretty much owe me the bouquet,” you laughed, only half-joking.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s already yours,” she bantered, clearing her throat before speaking again, “So, I also called because I wanted to vent a little, if that’s okay?”

“It’s always okay. You doing alright?” you asked, now worried that your friend was in trouble.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I have an update on Nick and Tori, though,” she paused, allowing your mind to wander.

The mention of your first crush’s name sent a shiver down your back. Many a moment had been wasted thinking about his pretty smile and grayish-blue eyes. You’d liked Nick before you knew you even liked boys. He was the heartthrob that trumped every teen dream of every other girl in America’s heart. In your mind, he was the closest to perfect you could imagine.

You responded, “Oh?”

“So, their divorce is finalized. My big brother is officially a divorcé. I would have thought that a man who was with someone for so long might be partying it up right now. But he says he’s focusing on work and, I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. And like, he��s getting divorced as I’m getting married and it feels so weird. It doesn’t seem fair,” she lamented.

“Dee, come on. You know Nicky wouldn’t want you to think like that. He loves you. You’re his favorite sibling,” you jested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ha ha. I’m his only sibling. I better be his favorite,” Dee chuckled, happy to be distracted, “So that brings me to you, Miss Missy. Last I heard, you were dating some engineer guy? Do I get to meet him soon?”

You inwardly cringed, hopes dashed of being able to avoid the topic of your relationship status. Things with Curtis kind of fizzled out when you found his tongue down an intern’s throat. You had been bringing him dinner since he’d complained about the late nights at the office.

Turns out he was hungry for more than your baked ziti.

You explained all this to Dee, remembering the look on Curtis’ face when you poured the prepared food into his lap. He was so shook, it was beautiful.

“I didn’t want to waste all that food but he looked wonderful with my pasta all over his shirt and pants. He honestly deserved it. It was his favorite shirt too. I hope those stains never come out,” you huffed, feeling like you were right back in that office again.

“I have never been so proud of you. I wish I could put hot sauce in his underwear for hurting my girl. I’m sure if I just had a few minutes, I could come up with something more diabolical than that. But it’s what I have at a moment’s notice,” she retorted.

One thing you could always count on Dee for? Getting angry for you and using her beautiful and educated mind to come up with some way to make the person who slighted you pay for their misdeeds. It was both adorable and super embarrassing to have her tiny frame looking up into some bully’s face pointing her finger at them.

“Well, I appreciate your offer, but he is so not worth the energy. You have much better things to think about, like your wedding day. This is your cue to stop worrying about me, Dee,” you advised, a stern tone coloring your words.

“Fine, I will stop worrying about you out loud. You got it, girl. Anyway, I won’t hold you. Talk soon, ok? I miss you,” she said, and you could envision her getting bleary-eyed.

“I miss you too, Dee. We’ll get together soon, I promise,” you sighed, feeling guilty for letting your friendship dwindle over the years.

“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, babe,” she hummed.

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and close your eyes. Visions of what Dee will look like in her wedding dress cloud your thoughts. Little snippets of grayish-blue eyes and dark brown hair seep in and you can almost hear his laugh again. You open your eyes, blinking away the mental images that brought you joy for a moment.

‘This is fine,’ you thought to yourself. Yeah, totally. You’re only going to see your best friend from childhood get married, effectively ending your childhood with a pretty bow on top. You also were only going to be with the biggest crush you ever had for like, an entire week.

And he’s single.

And probably needy.

And...you had better get your jaw up off the floor if you were going to get anything done.

Three months is enough time to get your brain, your body, and your emotions in check before you make a fool out of yourself in front of your second family.

Right?

January 20th, 2024 – Day One

Standing on the deck of the Hatteras Ferry, you watch as Ocracoke Island comes into view. The sun is at its highest and you are thankful for your sunglasses shielding the the bright sunlight bouncing off the crystal clear waters. You can taste the salty air and you are instantly transported to memories of running around the decks of this ferry with Deanne and Nick while your mothers tried in vain to wrangle you all.

The island comes into view and you search the docks for a familiar face. Dee promised to meet you at the docks, but when you approach them she is nowhere to be found. You pull your luggage behind you as your shoulder bag decides to slide off.

Before it can hit the ground, it’s caught by the strap by a strong hand at the same time you reach out to grab it. You thank the kind stranger as you both stand to your full height and you are face-to-face with a grown-ass Nicholas Fowler. He says something and you don’t hear hide nor hair of what the hell he just said, you look at him and break into a smile and he chuckles and speaks again.

“I hope you don’t mind Dee got me to pick you up. She had some wedding stuff to do. I wasn’t listening,” he explains, adjusting his sunglasses and putting your bag on his shoulder. He gestures over to his black Lamborghini Urus.

Once you walk over, he puts your shoulder bag in the back seat. You step closer to him to hand him your rolling luggage. You are mesmerized as his strong forearms flex when he puts everything in the SUV.

You clear your throat and look around when he looks back at you, catching you watching him. He closes the back door and guides you to the passenger side, opening your door for you.

“Oh, you’re a full-service driver today, huh?” you joke, stepping past him. Your platform espadrilles clacking on the asphalt. Adjusting your strapless sundress, you climb in.

“Whatever service you require, Gumdrop,” he replies with a smile, making sure you are comfortable before closing your door.

That fucking nickname… He would call you gumdrop instead of your name more often than not. That’s all, he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

When you are both buckled in, you start the drive across the island. Comfortable conversation is easy between you two. It’s like you fall back into a safe space with him. You talk about old vacations, funny moments, and what you both are up to these days. Neither of you mentions either of your failed relationships and you can’t keep the smile off of your face.

“Hey, we still have an hour until check-in. You wanna grab a bite or go to the beach or something?” he suggests.

“Are you sure they’re not waiting for us?” you counter, wondering if it’s a good idea to have a little moment with Nick all to yourself.

“I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. No pressure, just a suggestion,” he presses, taking a second to look over at you and smile that smile that has had you in a chokehold most of your life.

After thinking about it for all of five seconds, you agree to have lunch at Plum Pointe Kitchen. You enjoy a generous helping of Drunken Chicken nachos while Nick gets the VooDoo Shrimp PO’Boy. You share half of your meal, and Nick refuses to let you pay for anything.

Making your way to the Ocracoke Harbor Inn after lunch, you finally meet up with everyone. Dee is in mid-conversation with someone when she sees you and Nick pull up into the parking lot. She walks over to you and pulls you into a very tight embrace. It’s like everything was chaos before you got here.

“Oh my goodness, I am so glad you are here. How was the trip? Did you eat? Did Nick bore you? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come and meet you, but we had a little mishap with the reservation for the hotel and then I thought I left my wedding dress at home, and then we–”

You cut off Dee before she can work herself into a frenzy again, “Dee! Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. And is that Matthew? Introduce me already, would you?” you encourage, trying to get your friend’s mind off of the previous debacle and onto the man walking over.

Dee introduces you to Matthew and he charms you with the way he dotes on Dee. He seems like the type to be able to handle her rambling and intense emotions. How he looks at her while she speaks makes you miss having someone look at you like that.

“Well, it’s just about 3 o’clock now. Let’s get checked in and settled, then we can get together later?” Matthew chimes in.

“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, turning to you, “Go ahead and leave your stuff in my car. I’ll take you to your cottage after we are all checked in.” You nod, trying to hide your excitement.

Once you are done with the receptionist, you get your key and the wifi password to your cottage. While waiting for everyone else to get done, you fiddle on your phone until Nick’s shadow looms over you. Looking up, you are greeted with his eyes no longer shielded by his sunglasses in the dim lobby.

“You ready, Gumdrop? We still have some time before Mom and Dad show up. And I think I remember Dee saying she would call when she was ready to go out,” he concludes, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous about something. But you don’t push.

“All set,” you say, smiling up at him feeling bold enough to wrap your arm around his while you walk out of the lobby.

Dee shouts after you to behave yourselves and tense up a bit while Nick chuckles, seemingly amused by his sister’s thinly veiled comment on two single adults being close. Damn them.

Nick opens the passenger side door for you again, closing it once you are safely inside. He drives to the Margaritaville Cottage where he will stay with his parents during the trip. He instructs you to stay in the car while he just drops his bags off and is back outside in a few minutes.

The next stop is your cottage, called the Treasure Chest. You snicker at the name, thinking it sounded more like a pirate-themed strip joint. When Nick asks what you’re laughing about, you tell him your thoughts on the name of where you are staying. The slow smile that spreads on his face makes you involuntarily clench your thighs, wondering what his days-old stubble would feel like between your legs.

He tilts his head just slightly at you, then turns back to the road, smile still intact. Luckily the drive is short as the cottages are fairly close to one another. Nick parks in the driveway and you both get out and stretch your legs. He comes around and grabs your shoulder bag and luggage, motioning for you to lead the way.

Walking up the steps to the door, you unlock it and are welcomed by the scent of fresh linen. The central air of the cottage is just this side of perfect and you drop your purse on the dining room table. Turning around, you see Nick walking into a room off of the living room.

“Holy shit, you got a King-sized bed,” he shouts from the bedroom.

Walking in, you sit at the foot of the bed next to Nick and start to untie your shoes. He follows suit and turns to you biting his lip, a question at the tip of his tongue.

Facing him, you ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No. I, uh...I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” he notes. At your confusion, he holds up his left ring finger. A band of untanned skin around the base clues you in that he’s talking about his divorce.

“Nicky, I would never make you talk about it. It can’t be easy in that situation. I mean, I only broke up with Curtis a few months ago and we were only together for six months. I couldn’t imagine how a divorce feels after how long you and Tori were together,” you insist, placing a hand on his knee.

He covers your hand with his and nods. “Mom and Dad are pretty good about it. They don’t ask me how I’m doing with that sad look in their eyes anymore. But Dee? Jesus, when I told her about the incident, she was out for blood. I had to end up calming her down. All because someone broke her big bro’s heart. Love her, but she can get a little carried away,” he finishes.

“This is not to make you feel like you need to share, but you mentioned “the incident” and now I’m curious. Feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But I caught Curtis with his tongue down another woman’s throat. I don’t know for sure how long it had been going on or if they had done anything else together, but I knew at that moment that I was done. I am worth more than that. And so are you, Nicky,” you encourage, feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders after finally talking about your breakup.

“My situation was similar. Tori had been cheating on me for the last two years of our marriage with her boss. I had a feeling something was up, just didn’t want to believe it was something like this,” he reveals, continuing, “But I am moving on, so to speak. I’m not holding out anymore for her to come crawling back to me with a sad story and all that. Even though I hope that she falls in a sinkhole.”

You both laugh and continue talking, taking your minds off of your breakups. You reminisce about all of the times you’ve stayed on the island during vacations. You giggle over dumb stories of you all as teens in high school, hiding weed from your parents and drinking on the beach til it was time to sneak back into the hotel.

You get an idea and you tell Nick to give you a minute before you go back into the living room to retrieve your purse. Coming back into the bedroom, you pull out a vape pen and wiggle it in front of Nick’s face, a devilish smirk on your lips.

“We’ll just take one hit each and we will be fine. Just a bit more mellow,” you offer, pulling him to the balcony off of the living room. You each occupy a wicker chair and you hand over the device.

“Gumdrop, you little devil,” he takes the pen from you and inhales, closing his eyes and holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out. The smoke dissipates quickly and you can see the weight lift off of his shoulders. Handing it back to you, he exhales loudly and leans back in his chair.

Putting the tip in your mouth, you hit the button and inhale. Warm vapor fills you and you release the button, holding in the smoke for a beat and then letting it out toward the sky. You put the pen down on the table between you and fold your legs under you, letting your dress cascade down.

Sitting in companionable silence with Nick feels great. Neither of you feels the need to talk while you listen to the sounds of nature around you. People walking around the cottages, cars driving by, and the distant waves from Pamlico Sound make you wish you had gone to the beach earlier.

“Fuck, that was only one hit and I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you remark, swaying to a song that isn’t playing with your eyes closed.

Nick looks over to you and smiles, “Must be jelly ‘cause jam don’t shake like that.”

You open your eyes and turn to him, your mouth twitches before you break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nick soon follows and you both are taken over by the giggles. You settle down soon enough, still feeling the buzzing calmness of being high.

“The world needs more people like you,” you beam.

“Nah, I like being unique,” he replies, his phone chiming. Picking up a video call from Dee, “Hey Sis.”

“Hey, me and Matt were gonna go for dinner and drinks, you in?” she asks.

“Yeah, that sounds...good,” Nick answers for himself while looking at you to get your answer.

“Ok, well get ready and meet us at Oyster Company. And tell my best friend that she is coming, no ifs, ands, or buts. See you both soon!” With that, she ends the call.

“So...our decision has been made for us. Do you need to change or anything?” Nick wonders, gesturing to your traveling attire.

“If I take this dress off, I am not going out. Besides, I like this dress. I think I look positively adorable. But I will change my shoes to something more comfortable,” you finish before Nick can comment on how he also likes your dress. You pick up the vape pen, make your way back to your luggage, and pull out some flat sandals.

Once you are ready, you make your way back outside and are surprised to see Dee and Matt parked on the street outside of your cottage. “We decided to pick you up. Matt is DD tonight, so we can all get a little loosey-goosey. Plus, I can always tell when Nick is high, so get in losers!”

Nick snorts, and you are mortified to be found out, but you quickly get over it once you are in the backseat of Matt’s Audi Q4. The short ride to the restaurant was spent with Nick’s left leg brushing against your right leg. He was either manspreading or he wanted to touch you and wanted to keep it under the radar.

Either way, you were excited to feel his warmth next to you.

When you make it to the restaurant, you sit at a high table and it almost feels like a double date. Especially when your waitress congratulates Dee and Matt on their wedding while remarking that you and Nick make a cute couple as well. Your face warms up and you suddenly feel like every eye is on you.

Nick comes to your rescue, answering the waitress with a smile, “My girl’s a bit shy, is all. Can we get a pitcher of beer for the table to start? And also two shots of Crown Royal Vanilla for me and the little lady. Thanks.”

If it was possible, you would have melted through the floor and evaporated, but instead, you just hide behind the menu until Nick pokes his head in.

“That wasn’t to embarrass you, I swear. But I got nervous that she was gonna try and flirt with me, so I dragged you under the proverbial bus with me,” he admits, his lopsided smile only making you want him more.

“Fine. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” you warn, a devious grin appearing on your face.

You put down your menu just as the waitress comes back with the drinks. Taking both shots, you hand one to Nick. Staring in each other’s eyes, you clink your shot glasses and then tap them on the table before taking the shot. The sweet burn of the liquor warms you from within while Nick’s eyes on you melt whatever nerves you had previously.

A cleared throat breaks your trance, your focus changing from Nick to Dee.

“I talked to Mom and Dad and they won’t get here ‘til Friday afternoon with the rest of the guests. Dad said he had a few things to take care of and not to worry. Of course, I worry tenfold because he told me not to,” Dee interjects, busying herself with pouring beer into her frosted glass.

“Baby, they’ll be here as soon as they can. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,” Matt insists, moving a strand of hair away from Dee’s face before kissing her.

“Promise to keep me occupied?” she requests, a sinful smile on her face.

“I do,” he jokes, clearly proud of himself for making his fiancée blush.

“First of all, how dare you? Secondly, that was almost too cute so watch yourself,” she laughs.

You roll your eyes at the happy couple and smile, going back to looking over the menu. The waitress comes back to the table and takes your orders. Over the meal, you get to know Matt a bit more and you can see how Dee fell in love with him. He’s intelligent, funny, and charismatic. The way he talks about and to her makes you so happy to know your friend found love.

When they turn to talk to each other, you and Nick spark up a conversation about work. He tells you what he can about working for the government, keeping the specific details to himself. You regale him with stories of your time as a freelance writer. You’ve written for dozens of publications, but you just want to get your original works out there for people to enjoy.

After mentioning a few pieces you wrote for GQ, Nick expressed interest in reading your articles. You try and downplay your skills, but he presses you for the links. Taking out your phone, you realize that you don’t have his number.

While you exchange digits with Nick, you are too busy to notice Dee casting a sidelong glance and smiling to herself. You ramble on as you send him link after link of some of your favorites. With your face in your phone, you don’t notice the way Nick looks at you with a mix of pride and hunger.

“Well, I am ready to call it a night,” Dee yawns, getting everyone’s attention, “But I could use a nightcap. Who’s up for a trip to the ABC Store? We can make it before they close.”

Everyone agrees and after the check is paid, you all pile into Matt’s SUV for the quick drive to the liquor store. You browse the aisles for a bit by yourself. Filling up your basket with a bottle of wine, some whiskey, and a six-pack of hard seltzers, you surmise that this will sustain you for the week ahead and go in search of the others.

You find Nick in front of the beer cooler, hard at work trying to decide between a 12-pack of Sam Adams’ Cold Snap and Harpoon’s Long Thaw. You suggest he get both and he agrees.

Meeting Dee and Matt up at the front of the store, you stand next to Nick in line and he laughs at the contents of your shopping basket. He puts his beer up for the cashier to scan and has you do the same, paying for your items.

A little piece of you feels taken care of and you thank him while continuing to tell him he doesn’t have to. He just shushes you and says you can make it up to him later. Before your mind can think about what that might entail, the sale is rung and bagged. Nick picks up the beer and you grab the bag of your things.

Nick asks Matt to just drop him off at your cottage since he left his car there. His cottage is literally next door, but you’re not exactly gonna deny yourself the company. Dee and Matt drive away and you turn back to Nick. You both laugh nervously and you surprise yourself by speaking up.

“So, um. I was gonna have a weed and whiskey moment to myself, but I’d be willing to share if you’re interested,” you hint, watching as he weighs his options.

“Lead the way, Gumdrop,” he replies.

He follows you in, closing the door behind him. He puts his beer into the fridge along with your hard seltzer. You put the wine on the counter and take out the whiskey while Nick finds two short glasses in the cabinet. Pouring a generous amount in each one, he offers you a drink and you take a sip of the amber liquid.

Letting the whiskey sit in your mouth, you savor the hints of vanilla and spice. You reach in your purse for your vape pen and take a hit of it before offering it to Nick. Taking a long pull off of the pen, he exhales and you watch as his shoulders relax. You both take another sip of whiskey and revel in the dual flavors of the weed and whiskey.

You take your glass and the bottle, moving onto the patio off of the living room, and sit down in one of the wicker chairs while Nick takes the other. The conversation comes easily enough. Mostly high thoughts and random memories come to mind. After a while, you put on some music and when 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps comes on, you can’t help but dance in your chair.

Nick stares while you close your eyes and move your hands to the trip-hop classic. You spend the entire song moving to the downtempo beat and enjoying your crossfade. The trance you were under slowly dissipates as the song ends and Pendulum by FKA Twigs starts.

When you open your eyes, Nick is pulling you to stand up. You’re lost as to what he is doing until his hands go to yours, pulling them to rest around his neck while he holds your hips. As the song continues, you follow his slow lead and sway to the intimate and mesmerizing indie hit.

🎶

You're younger than I am broken

I dance feelings like they're spoken

So my conversation's not enough

So lonely trying to be yours

Running through sliding doors

So lonely trying to be yours

When you're looking for so much more

🎶

By the time the song ends, the heat between you is unmistakable. Your hand tangles in his hair when he pulls you impossibly closer. Mere centimeters separate your lips. All you would need is to lean just one step closer and you’d finally get to taste his kiss.

Nick beats you to it and his hands pull your face to his, crashing your lips together. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips and he swallows it adding in his own grunts and groans. Kiss after kiss, you radiate carnality and passion.

Breaking the kiss, you watch as he licks his puffy bottom lip. You take in a breath of air and prepare to dive back in but Nick voices his thoughts.

“You are gonna be the death of me, Gumdrop,” he sighs, and at your brows furrowing he continues, “You’ve only been back in my life for a day and I’m already thinking of ways to keep you in it. Don’t hate me, but I think we should chill out, just for tonight. I swear, if you still want this by tomorrow night, I am all yours. But you better be all mine. Please, tell me you can wait for me?”

“Tomorrow night and you’re all mine?” you plead, and he nods.

“Less than 24 hours, baby. Show me that these feelings aren’t just from the substances in our system,” he insists, and you wanna fuck him even more now after he says that.

You nod and he speaks up, “Need to hear your words, baby, like a big girl.”

“Fuck...yes, I can wait. I can wait for you, Nicky,” you whimper and he rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, lifting his head from yours, “Now, why don’t we call it a night before I go back on my word? You look so good in this dress and I really wanna be good.”

Agreeing with him, you clean up your empty glasses and move the bottle to the counter next to the wine. Nick pulls you into him one last time, snaking a hand down to your ass and grabbing a hefty portion of it before a hardy slap lands on your left cheek. He only snickers at your yelp and nibbles on your bottom lip.

“Keep that same energy for me because tomorrow I’m not holding back,” he vows, and if you weren’t leaning into him, your legs would’ve surely buckled. If he notices the tremble go through your body, he makes no mention of it and for that you are grateful.

“Goodnight, Nicky,” you hum.

“Sleep tight, Gumdrop. And do me a favor?” he challenges, at your nod he continues, “Save it for me. I’m gonna take care of you tomorrow, so no need to touch that kitty tonight, right?”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Right.”

He leaves and once the door is closed, you lean back against it, your hand going to your neck where your pulse is playing a sick beat against your skin.

Less than 24 hours, you think. You got this.

That night, you dream of grayish-blue eyes and large hands roaming your body.

January 21st, 2024 – Day Two

You wake just before 10:30 am and are greeted with a good morning text from Nick. He lets you know that he is taking you out, just the two of you. Since Dee and Matt are enjoying a couple’s spa package, he figures it would only be right to hit some of your favorite places on the island.

You are dressed and out the door by noon. Nick takes you to pick up lunch at Taqueria 504 Suazo’s and you drive out to rent a Jeep Gladiator at for a few hours to drive on the beach. One of the best things about this island is that everything is so close. After 5 minutes, you are at your destination.

Nick drives out a ways past the other people enjoying the off-season and stops about a minute after the last two fishermen you see. Guess he wanted a secluded spot, you think to yourself. While you get the food, Nick grabs the beach chairs and umbrella that he rented. The ocean breeze is agreeable enough, but you are glad that you brought a thin sweater to keep the chill off.

Once you sit down, you hand over Nick’s food and he digs into his burrito while you munch on your fish tacos. When your meal is finished, Nick puts your leftovers in the Gladiator and lets down the truck bed. He beckons you over and helps you sit on the edge and he climbs up and sits next to you while you both look at the water.

“Ya know, the last time we came out here I was just finishing my third year at Virginia Tech. You and Dee were seniors. I remember hoping upon hope that you would apply to VT and I remember you telling me you were accepting a scholarship from Princeton. I just sucked it up and congratulated you. Even though I was hoping you would understand why I wanted you close, I was so proud of you for venturing off on your own. You were always one to go after what you wanted. I just couldn’t stop wanting to be what you wanted,” he confesses, looking off into the water.

“I wanted you, Nicky. Trust me, I did. But I was so afraid that I had a dumb little crush on someone who would never see me as someone other than his little sister’s best friend. The last time I saw you, I thought it was right to push away the idea of you ever having feelings for me. I also may have been afraid of what Dee would say. She’s kind of protective over both of us, ya know?” you finish.

“That girl can be a vicious little thing when she wants to,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “But don’t you think it’s kind of a sign that she had me pick you up from the ferry? And how suddenly today, we have a free schedule to do whatever we want together? I know my sister, and she’s done this before. She matched me up with my high school girlfriend, Beth.”

“Ugh, Beth with the braces and bangs. I used to call her Triple B behind your back. I hated her so much,” you mutter, trying to push the image of them kissing out of your mind.

“Yeah, well. I knew you hated her, but me being an idiot teenager didn’t exactly know that meant you liked me. I just thought you didn’t like her because she was kind of a bitch. She was plenty nice to me, but she could be...a little scary, at times,” he laughs, surprising himself.

“So...you think Dee would be ok with...this?” you say, gesturing between the two of you.

“I just think there is no way she would let us be alone together if she wasn’t halfway hoping it would work out,” he guesses, “Plus, honestly? We’re adults. We’re allowed to go after what makes us happy.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you pull Nick in for a kiss. You don’t want to jinx it but he makes you happy too. The way he looks at you like you hung the moon, the way he listens to you and asks questions and the way he kisses you?

It just has to be real.

Packing up your beach equipment, you head back to drop off everything. Getting back into his SUV, you head around the island and view some of the sights. You go shopping and pick up some new knick knacks to take home. Visiting the lighthouse, you take some photos and make sure to bring Dee and Matt here before you leave the island.

Since most of the island’s restaurants are closed on Sundays, you venture to Ocracoke Variety Store and opt for cooking dinner together. After you have all the ingredients you need for a simple fish fry, you head back to your cottage and you and Nick get your hands dirty.

You have him cutting up potatoes for steak fries while you are preparing the batter for the fish. When dinner is ready, you sit at the dining room table with soft music playing in the background. While Nick wanted to take you out for your first date, he could appreciate the quiet setting with just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.

Finishing your meal, Nick takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile and warmth radiates in your cheeks. You hate to admit it, but you wish you had a little liquid courage right now. But the nerves you feel only cement that this is happening.

He pulls you up from your seat, the hunger in his eyes evident from his blown-wide pupils. Leading you into the bedroom, he stops just short of the end of the bed. Standing behind you as you face the bed, he runs his hands down your bare arms and whispers in your ear.

“I cannot wait to take you apart, Gumdrop. But,” he starts, turning you around to face him, “First, I just want to take my time and worship this beautiful body I know you’re hiding from me.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you would have melted into the carpet. But he’s there with firm hands and a gentle grip. Helping you out of your dress, he lays it on the chair in the corner. Coming back, he admires the white lace bra and panty set that accentuates your body shape.

His lips come back to yours, tasting your desire and wantonness with every kiss. Wrapping an arm around you, he guides you to lay back on the bed while maintaining the liplock. He kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while his hand unclasps your bra and removes it from your body.

Laying a kiss between your breasts draws a quick inhale from you. You can tell he’s proud of himself when he looks up at you while he licks one pert nipple, the other between his thumb and forefinger. He sucks on it as if he could siphon gold from your tits. Switching to the other, he gives it the same attention.

The noises that come from him as he plays with your breasts are enough to make you shiver. He whimpers when you moan and throw your head back. He groans when he kisses down your belly, stopping to look up at you before he plants a quick kiss upon your covered mound.

He pulls down your panties at such an agonizing speed. Nick has to squeeze his dick through his pants when a string of your wetness stretches from your pussy to your underwear. Spreading your legs apart, he feasts on the view of your lips opening like a flower before him.

He wanted to go slow, he really did. But once he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your swollen nub, he is mesmerized by the taste of you. He goes back and forth between sucking on your button and lapping up whatever nectar drips from you. You can feel yourself inching toward the finish line, and he is right there to talk you through it.

“Fuck...you taste like Heaven...that’s right, baby...let go and cum for me like a good girl,” he commands between licks and kisses.

You’re nothing if not a good listener and seconds later, your walls are clamping around his fingers. You’ve never cum like this before and it washes over you like a warm waterfall. He removes his fingers from your wet opening and sucks them clean before moving up the bed to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue, you are beyond turned on. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he sits up to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, you pull at the button of his pants.

“Use your words,” he urges, his hands stopping yours from moving further.

“Need to feel you, Nick. Please fuck me,” you beg, all thoughts gone from your head.

“There’s my good girl,” he replies, standing up from the bed to undress fully. Climbing back on the bed, he kneels between your legs. He strokes himself slowly, eight inches of uncut cock staring you in the face. He squeezes the base and you can tell he is just as excited as you are.

You crook a finger at him and once again, he is on top of you. With nothing between you, you’re impossibly close and you only want to get closer. Your hand soon finds his erection and he hisses at the contact, groaning when you stroke him.

He leans on one forearm while his other hand guides his tip between your lips, gathering some of your slick before entering you. You both groan loudly once he is fully settled inside you.

“You good, baby?” he asks, anxious to start moving his hips.

“God, yes. Fuck me, Nicky,” you plead, feeling so full when you arch your back.

Foregoing words, Nick retracts his hips and thrusts into you. The wet squelch as he fucks you is music to your ears, just like the way he tells you how beautiful you are in between kisses. He uses your breasts as handholds while he pummels your snatch.

The way he looks into your eyes while he plunges inside you excites you so much that you don’t even notice when a tear escapes your eye. He kisses it away, trailing his lips to your neck where he sucks at your pulse point. At this point, you couldn't care less about a hickey. You just want to be his.

Your next orgasm surprises you and you squeeze his cock from the inside, coating him in your cream.

“Good girl, coming all over my fucking dick. Feels so fucking good when you tighten around me like that. You are taking me so well, Gumdrop. Yes. You. Are,” he grunts, punctuating the last three words with deep thrusts inside you.

Flipping you over so you are on top, Nick grabs your hips and you start to ride him. You bounce on his cock like it’s the last time you get to fuck. By the mewls coming from him, you are doing it just right.

You feel another climax on its way, slowly building up in your core. Nick swats your hand away when you go to rub your clit. He licks his thumb and massages your neglected pearl until you are unable to hold it in any longer. The dual stimulation is too much and you gush, soaking Nick’s abdomen and your thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby. Such a good fucking girl for me. You must want my cum inside you with the way you’re...riding my dick. Shit, baby, I’m gonna blow. Where do you want it, baby?” he asks, you reply by doubling down on your hip motions.

“Right there, Nicky. Cum inside me, please,” you implore breathlessly.

“Yes, baby. Gonna cum for you, gonna fill you up so good. Ugh, fuck, here it comes,” he whimpers, his hold on your hips so tight to keep you close to him.

You feel every twitch of his cock, his muscles pulling taut across his arms and chest as he floods your canal. Your name on his lips as he comes down is a badge of honor. Yes, you did that shit.

He pulls you down to kiss him, shallow thrusts keeping him semi-hard before he pulls out. He lays you down next to him, cuddling you close and kissing your forehead. You start to fall asleep but you can feel Nick moving off the bed. Your hand shoots out to grab for him, but he shushes you.

He goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running before he comes out with a wet washcloth. Wiping down your sensitive folds, he takes care of you so well. Putting the washcloth back in the bathroom, he comes back and helps you get under the covers and he snuggles in with you.

With your arms and legs entangled in one another, you drift off peacefully.

January 22nd – January 26th 2024

The days before the wedding are spent enjoying the island with Nick, Dee, and Matt before the other guests arrive. More than once, Dee has cornered both you and Nick, asking embarrassing questions. You both say nothing, feigning ignorance even though Nick has moved into your cottage over the week, abandoning the cottage that he was supposed to share with his parents.

That being said, once his parents do finally make it to the island, he doesn’t even try and act like he isn’t staying with you. The smile on his father’s face says it all, he approves. His mother is far too preoccupied with getting everyone together for the wedding rehearsal to notice anything.

That is until she catches you and Nick making heart eyes at each other as you stand in for the Bride and Groom in rehearsal. Yes, it was a bit too soon to be playing Wedding Day with a man whose divorce is less than 100 days old.

But when you know, you know.

At dinner, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you don’t notice Nick following after you. Before you can enter the ladies’ room, a hand on your arm pulls you into the nearby gender-neutral bathroom.

You turn around and are met with hungry eyes before he descends upon you. Turning you around to face the mirror, he puts your hands on the sink and sinks to his knees, his hands roaming under your dress and up your legs until he pulls down your panties. He pulls out his already hard dick and pumps himself a few times before sliding inside you.

“Don’t fucking move, baby. Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, and your hands stay right where they are. You thought you could get away with teasing me in this tight fucking dress,” he breathes, “I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you til you’re dripping for me like the good girl I know you can be.”

When he places his hands on your hips, he begins a steady pace. He watches you in the mirror as your orgasm takes you over without warning. You squeeze him, your walls fluttering and coaxing him to follow you when you cover him in your juices.

But he surprises you when he pulls out and pulls your panties back up. When you turn around to ask why, he only kisses you and whispers in your ear, “I’ll get mine later, don’t you worry.” That only fills you with a little dread, your legs still wobbly as Nick tucks himself away and straightens his outfit. “Can’t have them knowing I just got my dick wet, right baby? See you back out there.”

He exits the bathroom and leaves you with slick running down your legs and your brain falling out of your ears. And he’s worried about you being the death of him?

You straighten yourself and use the bathroom for its intended purpose. Once back in the banquet hall, you pray to any god who will listen that you don’t look like you just got some dick. You see Nick and Matt in a conversation like he’d been here the whole time. When Dee asks why you look flustered, you lie and say you’re just a bit tired.

Nick overhears you talking to Dee and interjects himself into the conversation, “Why don’t we go get some fresh air? Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of her.” Helping you out of your chair, you both say goodnight to those at dinner.

Nick takes you back to the cottage, pulling you behind him as he walks out onto the balcony. Crashing his lips to yours, his hands scrunch up the fabric of your dress until you feel the night air chill your skin.

“Hands on the railing, baby,” he says, peeling your soaked panties from you.

Nick’s pushing inside you in the next breath and it’s like he belonged there all along. Holding onto your hips, he begins his onslaught. All you can do is hold yourself up and be happy that no one is walking down this road because fuck they would be able to see you getting absolutely railed without abandon.

Your grip on the railing is faltering as he slams into you and he takes pity on you. He uses the grip on your hips to pull you back so you sit on his lap while he sits in the wicker chair. He moves you up and down on his dick while saying the filthiest things to you.

Once your climax hits, his pace falters and he thrusts up into you. His tip hits your cervix as he pumps you full. He holds you against him and kisses up your neck as you lay back on his chest. For a few moments, all you both can do is breathe and caress each other.

His dick slips free of you and you feel his load dripping from your thoroughly used hole.

“Come with me back to Virginia,” he whispers, surprising both of you, “Don’t say no just yet. Think about it. We don’t leave for a couple of days. I have not been this happy in a very long while and I think I make you happy too. Just think about it, Gumdrop.”

A million things go through your head at the thought of giving up your life in New Jersey. This was a big step after only a week of playing house. Your brain comes up with so many what-ifs and reasons to not leap. But then one thought sticks, and you smile.

When you know, you know.

January 27th, 2024 – Wedding Day

You were never a big crier, but you shed many tears watching your childhood best friend marry the love of her life. It fills you with hope that everything does happen for a reason. While listening to their vows, you wonder if you could ever make that type of commitment. At that moment, Nick squeezes your hand and you smile up at him. Like he could read your mind, he seems to always know what to do to give you comfort.

Then again, he has known you most of his life. And when you think about it, it has always been him. A distant memory replays in your head of him simply putting a band-aid on your skinned knee when you were nine and he was twelve. Even then, he was there for you with a smile and a friendly hug.

The wedding reception is an all-out party but you expect nothing less from the Fowlers. The music, the food, and the atmosphere are perfect. Dee enjoys herself and is just happy to be married to Matt. And you are so happy for her, to see her without a care in the world.

Nick focuses on you the entire night, making sure you are comfortable and that you have everything you need. You sit in his lap, effectively confirming any rumors that may have spread about you two. His hand on your knee is warm and you want to sneak out of here and take him to the nearest closet. But he doesn’t let you move an inch once he has you in his clutches.

The wedding photographer snaps a pic of you squealing when Nick plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The guests around you simultaneously swoon and groan, depending on their relationship status. Not that you care, you had your man. That’s all that matters.

After the wedding, you and Nick sneak off to a secluded area of the beach to look up at the stars. Taking off your shoes, you don’t mind the sand between your toes. You spend most of the night on the beach, just enjoying each other’s company under the moon.

You are lucky enough to see a few shooting stars, and you can’t stop yourself from making a wish or two. Wondering if Nick made a wish, you open your mouth to ask him but close it just as quickly. You know his wish already and only you could make it come true.

Coming back to the cottage is bittersweet. The last night of your vacation is spent lying naked with Nick. No sex, just intimate cuddling. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, and you couldn’t deny yourself this feeling.

January 28th, 2024

You’re nervous all morning and Nick tries his best to keep your mind off leaving the island. But all you want to do is spend all day in bed with him.

Saying goodbye to Dee that day is full of teary-eyed hand-holding, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You hug her mother and father and thank them for inviting you.

Nick drives you to the ferry, thinking for all the world that this is the last time he will see you. But like you continue to do, you surprise him when he’s helping you with your bags.

“So, I have some things to clear up in Jersey, but I was thinking Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away. You can come to my place and we can spend some time together. I may not be ready to move 7 hours away just yet. But I know that I am not ready to be without you. I want you to know that I want this, whatever this is,” you admit, gesturing between the two of you.

“I can be amenable to that. On one condition,” he offers, taking your hands in his.

“And what is that one condition, Nicky?” you press, wondering what else he could want or if your terms weren’t enough.

“When we are with each other again, I get to call you my girl. That’s it. Be mine, and all that?” he laughs, watching as the frown lines on your forehead disappear and a smile grows on your face.

“You had me for a second, Nicky. But, why wait? I’m all yours already. Plus, I’ve already planted my flag in your back pocket,” you tease, snaking your hand around to goose him.

“So that would make me your man, then? And you’re my girl. Makes me wanna ask what made you decide to try this with me?” he hesitates, half wanting an answer and the other half just happy that you said yes.

“Hey, like I always say,” you start, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When you know, you know.”

END…?

A/N: All of the places in this story are real, this is not an advertisement for Ocracoke Island, NC btw. I just loved vacationing here so much, that I wanted to use it in a story lol.

**Tag List** (since I never wrote for Nick, I didn't know who else to tag)

@gummydummy19 @blackwood4stucky

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

My BINGO Card:

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ironmanxpeter24377 · 23 days ago

Text

I thought a depressing thought.

Because of Sebastion Stan's cat allergy, does that mean that we can't have Alpine in upcoming MCU movies? I know CGI exists, but I want a real white cat. Our Bucky Barnes needs his emotional support animal like in the comics.

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months ago

Note

heyy, could you write abt bestfriend!bucky x bestfriend!reader, where they talk abt random stuff and then it comes up that bucky never saw boobs irl and reader decides to show him? maybe some smut in the end😝🎀

Help You Out With That » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky admits that he’s never seen boobs in real life so you decide to help him out with that and show him yours. Then one thing leads to another and you two end up hooking up.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, brief mention of alcohol, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, Bucky’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“There’s no way you did that.” Bucky says laughing.

“I did.” You laughed. “When I was 16, my friends dared me and gave me $20 to jump in the river with no clothes on.” You tell him. “I just didn’t know there was a cop there.” You said laughing.

“Did you get arrested?” He asks curiously, taking a sip of beer.

“Yep.” You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. “My parents were so pissed and I got grounded for the rest of that month.” You say.

You were over at Bucky’s apartment spending time with him and talking about random things. You two haven’t seen each other in a while due to him being on a week long mission. He got home last night and he asked you to come over today.

“So you were totally naked when you jumped in the river?” He asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

“Meaning that your friends and the cop saw your boobs?” He asks curiously.

“Yes.” You answered. “The cop told me to put my clothes on before he handcuffed me and took me to the police station.” You say.

“Hmm.” He hums, taking a long sip of his beer. “I’ve never seen boobs.” He admits.

You stared at him with a surprised look on your face, blinking a couple times. James Buchanan Barnes, the ladies man of the 1940s and your best friend, has never seen a woman’s boobs. He looks and seems like the kind of man who has seen literally almost everything in his life.

“You’ve never seen boobs?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

Bucky nods to confirm it, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You bit your bottom lip when an idea popped into your head. You leaned forward just enough to take off your tank top, dropping it on the floor. Bucky stared at you with wide eyes.

“What- What are you doing?” Bucky asks.

“Showing you my boobs.” You confidently said. “I’m just gonna help you out with that.” You say with a wink.

Bucky watched you take your bra off and drop it on the floor. You stood up and sat on his lap, straddling him. Bucky wasn’t sure if he should look at your face or boobs.

“You can look at them.” You tell him. “I trust you.” You say.

Bucky’s eyes move down to your boobs, his breath got caught in his throat. He licked his lips as he stared at them with hungry eyes.

“You can touch them.” You say, shaking your chest to make your boobs jiggle.

Bucky hesitantly brought his hands up to your boobs. He put his hands on your sides just below your boobs. You shivered at the cool feeling of his vibranium hand against your skin. Bucky’s thumb rubbed against the underside of your boobs before moving his hands more towards your boobs. He gently cupped them, his thumbs rubbed over your nipples, making you moan softly.

Bucky decided to take it a step further. He leaned his head forward, placing kisses along the swells of your boobs. His teeth nipped on your skin, hard enough to mark you up. He slowly moved his lip down towards on of your nipples, taking it in his mouth. His tongue swirled around your nipple, flicking the hardened bud with the tip of his tongue. You moaned at the feeling. Your hands grasped onto his shirt, clutching it in your hands.

You didn’t even realize you were moving your hips against his till you felt his bulge rubbing against your pussy through your shorts. You could feel your panties getting wetter by the second. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. You were also enjoying the feeling of his stubble against your skin.

Bucky’s hand found its way to the back of your head and moved it so you were looking at him. He moved his lips upwards to your lips, kissing you hungrily. You cupped his cheeks to intensify the kiss. The kiss got more heated by the second. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, making you part your lips just enough for his tongue to slide itself in your mouth, exploring every inch of your mouth.

Bucky put his hands on your hips, holding onto you with a tight grip so he can maneuver the two of you so you were laying on the couch and Bucky was on top of you. His right hand left your hip to unbutton and unzip your shorts. He slid his hand inside of your shorts, touching your panties and finding out how wet your panties are.

“You’re so fucking wet, doll.” Bucky groans against your lips.

“It’s all because of you.” You say.

Bucky smirked against your lips and slide his hand in the front of your panties. His fingers began rubbing your clit. You bucked your hips against his hand, wanting more. Bucky chuckles at your eagerness.

“Eager, aren’t you, babydoll?” Bucky chuckles.

You whined at his words and bucked your hips against his hand again.

“Patiences, doll face.” He says softly.

Bucky pulled away from your lips and kissed down your body, stopping just above the waistbands of your shorts and panties. He looked up at you, waiting for permission, which you gave him. He hooked his fingers in the waistbands of your shorts and panties, pulling them down in one go and threw them somewhere in the living room.

He kissed both of your hipbones before placing soft kisses on your inner thighs, making his way to your wet pussy. You shivered when you felt his breath on where you need him the most. Bucky licked in between your folds, catching you off guard and moaning to himself.

“Just as I thought.” He licks your folds again. “You taste amazing.” He practically moans.

His tongue licked from your entrance to your clit a few times before circling the tip of his tongue around your clit. You bucked your hips at the feeling. Bucky laid his vibranium arm across your hips to hold you down.

“Stay still.” His voice sounding husky. “I want to enjoy your sweetness before I fuck you.” He says.

Bucky latched his lips onto your clit, sucking on it while his tongue continues to lick your slick on your folds. He ate you out like a starved man. Your hands flew down to his head, your fingers tugging on his hair. You lifted your head up and looked down at him. Bucky’s eyes flickered up at you and winked at you.

You were caught off guard when Bucky slid a finger in your pussy. You moaned at the feeling of his finger rubbing along your walls. You got lost in your thoughts. You were curious to know how this man knows how to eat pussy like a pro, but has never seen boobs. That thought floated around in your mind till Bucky snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Did I make you go dumb with my tongue, doll face? I was expecting you to go dumb on my cock.” Bucky says cockily.

You just moaned at his dirty words. His dirty words turned you on even more. You threw your head back against the arm of the couch in pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Nuh uh.” Bucky’s vibranium hand gently tapped your cheek. “Eyes on me, babydoll.” He orders.

You huffed softly before opening your eyes and readjusted your head so you were looking down at him eating you out.

“That’s it.” He softly praises. “Good girl.” He praises again.

Bucky went back to eating you out. His tongue licked from your clit to your entrance. The tip of his tongue prodded your entrance, catching you by surprise and making a pornographic moan fall from your lips. Bucky smirked to himself and did it again, earning another pornographic moan from you. Your pussy also clenched around his finger.

Your orgasm began to build up and your legs started to shake a little bit. Your back arched off of the couch when his finger hit your sweet spot. His tongue continued to flick against your clit. You already knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“I can feel you getting close, doll.” Bucky huskily said. “Are you gonna cum?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yes!” You answered in a whimper. “Please let me cum!” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, babydoll.” He says.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan of his name left your lips when you came, soaking his fingers and face. Bucky’s tongue gave your clit one last flick before he sat up. His beard was drenched in your juices. He hovered over you, kissing you hungrily. You moaned against his lips.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss to take off his clothes. You watched with hungry eyes. You licked your lips when you finally got to see his perfectly sculpted body. Your eyes wandered further down his body. Your eyes stared at his cock. He’s big. His cock is hard and leaking with precum.

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous.” Bucky says, playfully snapping his fingers.

You sat up and reached for his Army dog tags, grabbing onto the chain and yanked on them to pull him closer to you. You kissed him with hunger. You moaned when you felt his cock against your pussy. You reached a hand down and stroked his cock, making Bucky moan softly against your lips.

“Fuck me please, Bucky.” You begged softly, letting go of his cock.

Bucky held the base of his cock, lining it at your entrance. He watched your facial expressions as he slid his cock in your pussy. Your mouth fell open when you felt him stretching you open.

“So big.” You say breathlessly.

You spread your legs wider to give him more access. Bucky’s hands rubbed up and down your waist before holding onto it. His thrusts started off slow and loving, but sped up enough to make it pleasurable. Your hands grasped onto his biceps, digging your nails in his skin and the vibranium.

You quickly got entranced by his dog tags dangling just above your face. His dog tags swung every time he thrusted. You grabbed onto them and pulled on them just enough to get Bucky to lean down to kiss you. The kiss was sloppy, but your lips with in sync with his.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss and moved back just enough to stare at your boobs, quickly getting mesmerized by them bouncing as he thrusted into you. He licked his lips at the sight. He dipped his head down to kiss softly along the swells of your boobs. While his lips were occupied with kissing your boobs, his right hand left your waist and found its way to your boob. His thumb rubbed over your nipple and circled it a few times before pinching it. A tingle shot through your body, along with a moan falling from your lips.

“Fuck, Bucky!” You moaned.

“I love the way you say my name.” Bucky huskily said. “Say it again.” He says.

“Oh Bucky!” You moaned again.

You moaning his name urged Bucky on. His thrusts got faster. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together and pulled himself closer to you. That made Bucky’s cock go deeper in your pussy. A loud moan left your lips when his cock found your sweet spot with ease. Your hands found their way to his back, digging your nails in his skin and making red line marks.

“Right there!” You tell him. “Right fucking there!” You say again, followed by a moan.

“Is that your little spot, babydoll?” He asks in a cooing voice.

You moaned in response. You arched your back in pleasure. You practically shoved your boobs in Bucky’s face, which he had no problem with.

Bucky’s vibranium hand snaked its way down to your clit and started rubbing it. You jumped slightly at the cool feeling, but quickly got used to it. Your pussy clenched around his cock at the feeling of his fingers against your clit, making Bucky moan at the feeling.

“Fuck…” Bucky moans.

Your orgasm built up the more Bucky rubbed your clit. You felt your lower stomach tighten. It felt like a rubber band was about to snap inside of you. You weren’t sure how much you could take.

“Bucky, I- fuck!” You moaned more in a whimper. “I’m going to cum.” You tell him. “Please let me cum.” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, gorgeous.” Bucky says huskily.

His fingers rubbed your clit faster. That’s when you fell over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and his name fell from your lips in a loud moan when you came.

“That’s a good girl.” He praises. “Good fucking girl.” He praises again.

Bucky gave your clit one last rub and then focused on his own orgasm, which wasn’t too far behind yours. His thrusts got sloppy, but he quickly regain rhythm. Bucky’s head fell against your chest.

“I need to- fuck… I need to pull out, doll.” He says, panting.

“No!” You whined. “Cum in me.” You tell him.

“You can’t just say shit like that, babydoll.” He says.

“Just do it! I want to feel it!” You tell him.

“Dirty girl.” He growls.

Bucky came inside of you after a few more thrusts. His thrusts came to a halt. He unwrapped your legs from his waist and sat back on the couch. The two of you were panting and sweaty.

“That was…” You breathed, trying to find the right words to describe the best sex you just had with Bucky.

“Fucking incredible.” Bucky says.

“Mhmm.” You hummed, nodding your head.

Bucky looked over at you. He admired the hickeys he left all over your boobs.

“Thank you for helping me out with that.” He says.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You sat up. “I’ll show you my boobs anytime you want to see them.” You say and bit your bottom lip, shaking your chest to make your boobs jiggle.

Bucky grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, making you squeal.

“You have great boobs.” Bucky says, licking his lips and making you giggle.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll