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fandoms-writings · 4 months ago

Text

Little Schemer

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.5K (hehe)

Summary: Secrets got Bucky into trouble with you, but he'll never do it again, if you'll give him another chance. This is for the drabble request "choose me" & "let me hear you make that sound again" <3

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, secrets were kept (no cheating, i promise), emotions, smut, p in v smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), spanking, slight bdsm, bordering overstimulation, some aftercare.

A/N: thank you so so much to @perdidosbucky-yyo for beta reading for me, i love youuuuuuu <3

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

Bucky knew he fucked up. He shouldn't have kept you in the dark like he did, but he was just enjoying having you to himself - that you didn't know who he was. You were a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken town and he just wanted it to stay that way for a little longer.

He wasn't ashamed of himself, but people treated him differently when they knew. Much like when you learned who he was - what he is.

As he pulled up to the bar's back door, turning his bike off, your face flashed in his mind. The tears, the anger, the shake of your head when he tried to reach out to you. He swore, just thinking about it made his heart break all over again.

The door opened next to him and he turned to see Steve standing there with a confused look in his eyes. "You good?"

Bucky nodded and sighed, standing from the bike and pocketing the keys. "I'm fine."

He shouldered past Steve, not wanting his brother to see the turmoil he knew he was wearing on his sleeve.

He quickly spotted the table in the back of the rundown bar where the others were sitting, smiling amongst each other and chatting and laughing. He plastered on a grin, hoping it reached his eyes enough to be convincing as he approached the table.

He just had to get through this little gathering and he could go home. Go home and wallow in his self-pity and sorrow.

But as he came up to the edge of the table, a laugh from across the room had his blood freezing in his veins. It took all of his effort to keep from tripping over his own feet as he slowed to a stop.

His friends at the table gave him concerned and confused looks as they watched him turn, peeking over his shoulder to the source of the laugh he hadn't heard in two weeks.

His heart strained in his chest when he saw you. You were laughing at something the guy sitting next to you had said, the smile on your lips as beautiful as it always was. He saw the way your fingers fiddled with the fabric of the skirt you were wearing, the sage green satin already wrinkled under your hand. It was a nervous tick of yours, something you did when you were upset or anxious, or just not having a good time.

Bucky fought the urge to go over to you, to get the guy away from you and get your hand to stop picking at your skirt. He was about to lose that fight with himself, insert himself into a situation that had nothing to do with him, when Natalia stepped up next to him, bumping his arm with her own.

"You're being obvious James," Her voice was quiet as she spoke, "and by the way you're looking at her, I'm assuming she's the reason you've been so off lately."

He pushed a heavy breath through his nose as he continued to watch you, your smile dimming. "What about it?"

Nat stepped in front of him, pulling his attention from you and down to her red hair. "Make a decision." She softly demanded, reaching forward to pat his chest, right above his heart, "Make a good one."

She stepped past him, walking back to the table. He heard her quiet voice tell the others to leave him be, that he'll either join in a minute, or he won't, and that was that.

Bucky looked back at you, watching as you excused yourself from the conversation with the stranger and stood from your barstool. The man tried to caress the side of your arm, but you dodged out of his reach, quickly making your way to the other side where the bathrooms were.

Bucky straightened his shoulders with a deep breath, intending to wait for you to return to try to speak with you, but when he noticed the man from the bar stand and follow your path, he started seeing red.

His feet started moving before he could stop himself, refusing to believe that maybe you wanted this guy to follow you. That you were leading him to a more secluded area. Away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. He wouldn't believe it because he knew you, and he knew what that look on your face meant.

He quickened his pace when he saw how close the stranger was getting and he could see the uncertainty, the anxiety, in your eyes as your unfocused gaze swept passed him to try a subtle look over your shoulder.

Your eyes widened slightly when you spotted the guy trying to be nonchalant about following you, and your steps faltered. You were too slow in your reaction to turn back to your route and catch yourself, but Bucky was there, your sides freezing under his touch as he caught you.

He tried to will the anger from his face as you gazed up at him, your eyes focusing on his before he leaned down. "I've got you, he won't touch you."

You swallowed and took a shuddering breath, but you nodded to him, the tension beginning to ease from your muscles as you righted yourself, your hands reaching and landing on his arms. The warmth from your skin seeped through the long sleeves of Bucky's henley, shivers instantly threatening to crawl up his spine.

"Where were you trying to go?" He asked, trying to keep the rage from his voice as he watched the man gain on you, "I'll walk you there."

"The bathroom," Your small voice replied and he curtly nodded, but before he could guide you there, you spoke again, "I was going to hide there until I could sneak out without him seeing."

A fist closed around his heart, "You're here by yourself?" At the nod of your head, Bucky's head started to spin as he thought of solutions for you. Frank might get mad at him for what he was about to suggest, but he'd handle him later.

"I have somewhere better for you," He said, slowly guiding you away from the bar guy who was watching you two, "Will you trust me? Just this once." He knew it was a lot to ask, considering how he'd lied to you for months, but he knew that you remembered how he'd always put your first. Your happiness, your satisfaction, your safety. Nothing else mattered to him until you were taken care of and protected.

Your chin dipped in a nod and Bucky immediately began cutting a path through the growing crowd, his hand on your lower back as he led you to the other side of the bar, quickly and thoroughly.

It wasn't long before he came across the door he was looking for, and knocked before swinging it open. Inside was Frank's office, but luckily the man was out of town for the week, so no one would come knocking.

Bucky ushered you inside before closing and locking the door, pulling the blinds shut so no one could peek inside the small office window. He kept the lights off, but the lights from the bar showed through the small cracks in the blinds, throwing light stripes of yellow through the room.

Bucky looked through the blinds, watching the man from the bar as he looked around the space, looking for you, only to mutter to himself before going back to sit at the bar.

"You can wait here as long as you need," Bucky softly said, turning in your direction, but not fully looking at you.

"Won't Frank be mad?" You asked. You'd met him once when Bucky first started dating you. He'd paid Frank to not tell you about the club, and once Frank saw how far gone he was for you, he kept his part of the deal.

"Let me worry about Frank," He assured you, "If you need anything, I'll let Wade know you're back here," He reached for the handle, "Lock it after I leave, alright?"

"Wait." Bucky froze at the frenzied tone as you called for him, his hand on the door handle. The next words of yours were muttered on a low breath, and the sorrow dripping from them sent a crack through his chest. "Why won't you look at me?"

"I... "He hung his head with a sigh and released the handle before turning towards you with his hands on his hips. "I didn't think you wanted me to see you. Or that you wanted to see me."

Your soft footsteps padded closer as his gaze remained on the floor, the toes of your shoes coming into his vision. You'd worn those simple black flats you loved so much. They were your everyday shoes. There were no bows and no straps. The most unremarkable thing you owned and yet the sight of those shoes so close to his boots made his heart leap into his throat.

"James," You called for him, your voice dragging soft fingers down his back, a shiver following in its wake. "Why would you think that?"

"Because of what I did," He muttered, "What you saw me do."

He heard you heave a breath at the mention of the incident he'd been replaying in his head since you walked away. The blood coating his knuckles. The gasp that fell from your lips. The dread that had instantly flooded his chest at those wide eyes of yours as you backed away.

You, running from him.

"Will you please look at me?" The crack in your voice pushed him over the edge and he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. It may have been dark in that office, but even on the blackest of nights, Bucky would know exactly where to look to find your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"No, no you don't apologize," His words were heavy on his tongue as he scrambled to understand why you were saying that. "I'm the one who scared you, and lied to you."

"And I'm the one who ran off before you could explain yourself," Your fingers fidgeted in front of you like you were keeping yourself from reaching for him. "It's not like I didn't know."

Bucky's whole world froze. "What do you mean?"

You let out a weak scoff, "Come on, Bucky, it's not hard to connect the dots, I just had to want to connect them."

At the shock that must've been written all over his face, you let out a small sad laugh.

"I mean, c'mon," You started, "I get asked out by this motorcycle guy, who everyone else in town seems to be scared of. He's the only one in town who doesn't wear one of those vests and is the only one who the club leaves alone." You took a step forward, reaching for his hand. He let you take it in your gentle hold, your fingers turning it over so his knuckles were on display. "He also shows up to my house with weird bruises and cuts on his hands that he has no believable explanation for."

You looked up from his hand, not letting it fall between you.

"I just wish he would've told me," You whispered, "If I had known, I wouldn't have gone looking for you that day. I would've seen your text saying you were busy, and left it at that."

Finally, you let his hand go, taking your warmth with it and he tugged his lip between his teeth to fight the urge to reach out for you.

"And now, I feel like I have to choose between now you and past you. The you I know you are, and the you I thought I knew."

He took a deep to steady himself, though it came out shakier than he wanted it to.

"I'm so sorry," His voice strained in his throat, "I just didn't want you involved. I liked that you didn't know who I was. I just wanted to enjoy that while it lasted."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You asked, your arms wrapping around yourself.

"I was," He may have been quick to answer, but he didn't want you thinking for even a second longer than you already had that he was going to keep you in the dark forever. "I promise, I was going to tell you, but I didn't want to scare you off."

You were quiet for a moment, and he could see those gears turning in your head as you contemplated his words.

"Please," He whispered, "I'll do anything. I'll do anything you ask if you choose me. The me you now know I am."

You took him in for a second - the bags under his eyes, the weight dragging down his shoulders, the pained sorrow lining the edges of his face. "Tell me everything."

"Everything?" He asked.

"Everything. No more secrets. No more hidden skeletons." You dropped your arms and stepped toward him, "I want to know it all. And then, I'll decide."

His stomach erupted in nervous butterflies, realizing this was it. This was his last shot.

So he told you all of it.

How he ended up a part of the club in his early twenties. How you'd stumbled across a rare moment of him having to defend his club's integrity from another. How even though he has to do those things, he doesn't necessarily enjoy it - he's just good at it.

Some parts had you laughing, pulling a smile from his lips at the joyous sound that seemed so out of place considering the situation. Others had you hastily wiping the tears from your eyes as you sniffled.

He spilled his guts to you. He turned over every stone and shone a light in every dark corner of his heart. He laid it out before you, for you to examine and judge, but he'd do it a thousand times over if it meant you'd let him sit next to you like you were.

You two were in that office for hours. The bar had hit its peak hour. The music outside the office had turned from quiet rock to bassy club as people filed in to dance. The lights had lost their old yellow and turned to blues, greens, purples, and pinks, flashing through the blinds.

When he was done telling you his life story, from the moment he joined the club to you sitting across from him, you were silent, staring up at him on the leather couch.

"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely audible over the bass on the other side of the wall. "Thank you for telling me."

He nodded, his chest aching in suspense as you continued to watch him.

"Do you really love me?" You asked, "You said in your story about how when I ran off, you couldn't believe you fucked up the one relationship you'd ever cared about and lost the only girl you ever loved."

Bucky's heart fell to the pit threatening to swallow him whole. He remembered saying those words, but he didn't think you'd heard them clearly enough because you hadn't acknowledged them. He hadn't meant to let them slip quite like they had, he wanted to tell you in a much more romantic way, but his mouth was moving faster than his brain.

He dipped his chin in a nod, "I do." Your lips twitched up in the corners and that was all he needed to gain more confidence in his emotionally raw state. "I love you, and I've loved you from the moment I first heard you say my name back to me."

You didn't say anything back, you just sat there with that small grin on your lips as you contemplated him. Everything that he was. Bucky didn't usually like being the center of attention, being examined. But with you, he'd remain under your eye for as long as you allowed. He did his best to ignore the race of his heart as he waited for a response, but your next move did nothing to help ease its fast pace.

You slid over to him, gently raising your knee and setting it on the other side of him, straddling his thighs as your hands rested on the front of his cutte. He wanted to grab you, desperate to have his hands on you, to feel you again, but he didn't want to push you. So he fisted his hands at his sides as your fingers trailed up his neck and to his chin before resting on the sides of his neck.

"I've missed you," You whispered, the smile falling from your lips as your eyes traced the lines of his face. "I want to choose you as you are now," You started, his heart racing at your words, "But you have to keep being honest with me. No more secrets."

Your nose brushed against his as your eyes looked up from his lips and his breath caught in his throat. "No secrets. Ever," He whispered, the movement of his words brushing his lips every so gently against your own. "You have my word."

"If you ever keep a secret like that from me again," You muttered, your words crystal clear as they engrained themselves into his heart, "There won't be another chance. Got it?"

He nodded, "I understand."

"Good," You remained close, your breath fanning against his lips as his hands itched to reach for you. "Are you going to touch me?"

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, imagining his hands touching you after the things you've seen him do was the hardest part. He didn't want to stain you with the bad side of him, the red on his hands.

"Bucky?" Your voice brought him back, and he opened his eyes - when had he closed them?

He wanted to voice what was racing through his mind, but he couldn't find the words and decided to save them for another day. Instead, he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper, "Can I touch you?"

There was a certain understanding in your eyes as you nodded, "Of course you can."

His hands found their way up to cup your face, the calluses of his fingers brushing against your soft cheeks. "Can I kiss you?"

You let out a soft laugh as you nodded. That was all he needed before he closed that minuscule gap between your mouths, groaning when your hands tightened against the sides of his neck.

Your lips danced to a familiar tune, but there were new notes now. Understanding and trust, however fragile and new. Longing and relief at starting fresh.

Your lips parted, allowing him to taste the subtle drink still on your tongue from hours ago. His hands slid down your shoulders and ribs, landing on your hips and pulling them against him. A whine vibrated through your chest into his mouth and the heat that filled his being was overwhelming as he rocked your hips with his hands.

"I'm never losing you again," He said against your lips, "Never."

"I'll hold you to that," You breathed out, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.

"You better." His hands squeezed your hips, pulling them down again against the hardness in his jeans.

"I love you, James," His hands slowed as you pulled away. "I love you so much, and that's why I was here tonight."

His brows pinched together. "What do you mean?"

"I know you come here every Friday night," You said, "And I didn't want to talk over the phone, and I didn't want to lose my nerve and hang up before you could answer a call, so I came here hoping to see you tonight. And I'm glad I did." You smiled down at him, your hips still moving against his.

He shook his head in disbelief and shock as he loosed a huff of a laugh. One of his hands left your hip and reached up to stroke your cheek. "I love it when you scheme about me."

You let out a shocked laugh, "I do not scheme!" Your laughter burst out as he grabbed you and flipped you around, hovering over you on the couch.

"Alright alright, whatever you say," He muttered into the skin of your neck as he trailed his lips down its surface, inhaling the scent of you as he made his way to the bit of your breasts that showed when he pulled your shirt down, "Schemer."

You opened your mouth to deny the nickname but you hadn't realized his hand trailing up the inside of your shirt, sneaking its way under your bra, his fingers gently pulling at your nipple. Whatever you were about to say broke off in a soft gasp, ending in a little whine that was like fuel to the heat driving Bucky's hand under your skirt.

It trailed up the softness of your leg, tracing soft patterns as it climbed before landing over the damp cotton covering your center. He pulled the fabric to the side and groaned a soft 'fuck' at the slick that instantly coated his fingers before they slowly circled your clit. "I want to taste you," He said the words into the skin of your breast, "Will you let me taste you again?"

"Please," You begged, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling at the roots, "please Bucky."

He smiled into your skin as both of your hands worked to pull the fabric of your skirt up to your waist. Bucky wasted no time pulling your underwear to the side and languidly dragging his tongue up your slit, moaning as your taste flooded his mouth.

"God I missed this," He wrapped his mouth around the entirety of you, his tongue working slowly as he savored the moment. He would never take another moment with you for granted again, he was going to take his time to brand everything into his mind. The way your eyes fluttered but tried to stay open to watch him. The feeling of your hands pulling on his hair when he slipped two fingers in, curling them against your walls. The breathiness in your voice as you begged him to let you fall over the edge of release.

"Bucky please," You struggled to grind into his mouth when he pulled away again to watch your cunt greedily swallow his fingers.

"Can I take you home?" He asked, looking up at you.

You looked down at him, the exasperation in your eyes almost making him laugh. "Now?"

He nodded, "Yes," He curled his fingers again, a smile growing on his lips as your jaw dropped and let out another delicious sound, "I want to fuck you properly, not in this office."

"What if I want you now?" You asked, your voice tight and he groaned at the confession.

"I would fuck you, but I don't want Frank coming back and smelling you in here," He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, "That's only for me."

A low whine filled his ears as you tugged your lip between your teeth and nodded, "Okay, but you're driving."

He curled his fingers one more time, relishing in the gasp you sucked in before he removed his fingers from you, sticking them in his own mouth to suck them clean. The sight made you moan before you leaned forward and pulled his hand away so you could capture his mouth with yours, tasting his mouth as he blindly adjusted your underwear and skirt back to normal.

You two left the office, locking it behind you and weaving your way through the crowd that had gathered in the bar. Bucky laughed as you began to dance behind him while he led the way. When you both got to your car, you tossed him your keys and he sent off a short message to Steve letting him know he was leaving his bike around back. Steve had the spare key and would take it to the club for him.

Bucky couldn't remember a time he drove so fast as he drove to your place, especially when you were sitting in the passenger seat looking at him the way you were. Your hands trailing over his lap, gripping him through his jeans.

Your hand had made it past his belt and zipper, sneaking under the waistband of his boxers to start stroking him as you trailed kisses down his neck when he pulled into your driveway. He hastily threw the car in park and turned it off before turning to you and pulling you in for a bruising kiss.

He pulled your hand out from his jeans and pressed the keys into your fingers, "Get inside," He mumbled against your lips, "You have two minutes before I come in there and take what's mine. I don't care where you are."

You whined, trying to kiss him again when he pinned you with a look and you shuddered, nodding.

"Go," He whispered, chuckling to himself as you scrambled to get out of the car and raced up your front steps. He fixed himself back into his pants, not bothering to redo his belt, before getting out of the car. He wouldn't have cared, but he didn't want any of your neighbors calling the cops for his indecency.

He made sure to grab anything you left in the car and lock it before slowly climbing the same stairs you ran up. You'd left the door open in your haste, and your house was quiet as he stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He undid his boots, refusing to drag anything on to your soft clean carpets.

As Bucky climbed the stairs to your room, he pulled his belt off, loosely wrapping it in a loop as he approached your half open door, pausing at the sight before him.

You were sitting against the headboard, naked with your fingers buried in your cunt. Your breathy sigh when you spotted him was his undoing and he grew achingly hard in his jeans.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" He struggled to make his voice stern as you flushed, quickly removing your fingers.

"I just wanted to be ready for you," You whispered, "I don't want to wait anymore."

He smirked, and approached the bed, setting the belt on the edge of the mattress before he started removing his own clothes. "Kneel right here," He gestured to the bit of mattress in front of him, "and face the other way."

You nodded, and he could see you easily slipping into the submissive side of you that you only let him see. You moved to where he wanted you, and when he was done undressing, he grabbed the belt again.

He leaned forward, placing his chin on your shoulder as his tone softened, "You remember your safe word right?" You nodded, mumbling the chosen word in confirmation and he smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, "Good. Are you okay with this? Or do you not want that tonight?"

"I want it," You breathed, a shiver raking over your body as he kissed your neck.

He nodded into your shoulder before pulling back, "Give me your hands."

You instantly followed his instruction, putting your hands behind your back, and he looped his belt around your wrists, fastening them together. "Bend over, darlin," He ordered, pushing his hand on between your shoulder blades. He grabbed your shoulder to help you bend over before angling your hips higher, presenting you before him.

His hands wrapped over your ass, squeezing and spreading them apart.

"Fuck," He muttered, probing your entrance with a thumb, "You're dripping." You moaned into the comforter as he pushed a thumb in, "I can't wait to feel you around me again."

You moaned his name again, begging him to fuck you, but he shook his head.

"Not yet," He pressed his thumb further in as he rubbed your cheek with his other hand, "You touched yourself without my permission." He heard your gasp as he pulled his hand back, "Good girls don't do that."

The smack that rang through the air as his hand collided with your skin was drowned out by the loud moan that you voiced. He waited for you to remember the rules of this little game you played and it didn't take long for pride to swell in his chest as you angled your head out of the blanket.

"One," You whined, trying to push back against his thumb that was still in your cunt.

"There you go," He muttered, raising his hand, "Let me hear you make that sound again," and bringing it down again and again as you kept count, your moans turning to shrieks then wails as you reached five.

He gently laid his hand on the red skin, rubbing away the sting as he praised you, leaning down and kissing the tender area before tugging your legs off the bed. He kneeled behind you, giving you only one warning, "Don't come until I say you can," before removing his thumb and replacing it with his tongue.

"Oh fuck," You cried, "James!" Your legs shook as your toes tried to push against the ground to raise your hips. His hand pulled your legs apart, keeping your feet from touching the floor as he moaned into you, the vibration tearing another cry from your throat.

He knew you wouldn't last long like this, but god he just couldn't get over you. He wanted to devour you whole and this was the closest he could get.

When your cries turned incoherent and your legs started shaking, he removed his tongue, gently setting your legs down and standing behind you. He leaned over you, resting his cock between over your ass and he kissed down your spine, letting you calm for a moment before undoing the belt and helping you turn over.

He wiped the tears from your cheeks, placing gentle kisses along the trails. "You did so good." You hummed, your lids heavy but your eyes alert as you watched him. He lifted your legs, pushing your knees to chest, "I think you deserve a reward," Your eyes lit up, "What do you think?"

He chuckled at your frantic nod, "Please, James," you begged, "Please fuck me. I've missed you so much."

His heart squeezed, "I know," He lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing in as your jaw dropped open, "I've missed you too."

His own breathing became tight as your cunt gripped him, pulling him in, eager to be filled by him again.

"Fuck, I love the way you feel around me," he ground out, slowly pulling out and pushing back in, setting a slow rhythm. "You're always so warm, so perfect."

His hands moved your legs to the side, holding them open as he sped up, driving into you. He wrapped one of your legs around his waist, letting go so he could reach up and gently grab your neck. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, tightening with his own, letting him know how tight to squeeze, making your eyes roll back as you gasped.

"Oh fuck," You whined, forcing your eyes open to look at him. "Bucky please, I'm so close, so close, please."

He opened his hand, wrapping it around the back of your neck and pulling you up. Your hands shot out to grip his shoulders as he placed his forehead against yours, his pace growing brutal.

"Hold on," He told you, "Almost, almost."

He felt the familiar tightening in himself as he watched you do your best to stave off your own release, waiting for him.

"Oh, good girl," he panted, his brows pinching, "good fucking girl, just a little bit more. You're gonna come with me, yeah?"

You nodded, words gone from your brain as your moans grew higher in pitch.

"That's a good girl," He praised, the sensation growing stronger and stronger until he knew the edge was right there. "Come for me baby," He all but begged, "Come on my cock, soak it , come on."

He rambled as you tightened around him, squeezing his cock until he was falling over that edge with you, pleasure blinding behind his eyes as they closed. "Fuck fuck fuck," He dropped your other leg, catching himself as he fell over you, his breathing short as every other thought vanished from his brain.

All he could focus on was the feeling of you wrapped around him, your fingers in a death grip on his shoulders as your cries filled his ears.

"There you go, there you go," He muttered into your neck as you came down from your high. "I love you so much, I love you." An airy laugh broke from your chest.

"I love you," You whispered, pressing your lips against his shoulder.

Once you both came down from your high, he cleaned you up before joining you in bed, wrapping you into his chest. He would never forget how he'd almost lost this - lost you.

As you drifted to sleep against him, a smile on your lips, he vowed to himself and to the silence of the house that he'd never fuck it up again. Never again.

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