Have A Good Night
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.
Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, flirting, alcohol and food consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), protected piv sex, size kink, shy!joel, fluff, mutual pining, cringy/embarrassing crush interactions
WC: 7.9K
Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge (masterlist here)
dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics
It was never roses that he bought. That should have been your first clue.
Every Friday he came through your checkout lane with a beautiful flower arrangement. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was daffodils, but never roses.
He hardly spared you a glance when he slid his card through the machine. Occasionally he would comment about the weather or how busy the store was, but he rarely ever made eye contact.
It wasn't unusual and it didn't offend you. Most customers had other things on their minds and they preferred to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. But this particular customer, the one with dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders and patchy beard always caught your eye. It was the best part of your week. You never had the nerve to say anything to him, but your friend Andy noticed the way you always got nervous when you saw him standing in line, how your demeanor shifted and your hands shook just a little bit.
He's not wearing a ring, Andy pointed out one day as you counted your drawer. You rolled your eyes.
That doesn't mean anything, you replied. Why else would he be buying flowers?
Then one day, as you scanned your handsome stranger's flowers, you noticed a few of the daisies were wilting.
"Do you want to pick out a different bouquet?" you had mustered up the courage to ask. The store was quiet, no one was lined up behind him. There was a big football game that night and it kept most people at home.
His eyes snapped up to yours and he froze like a deer in the headlights. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer while trying to think if you said something stupid to warrant such a delayed reaction. "A few of these flowers are already dying. See?" You tilted the bouquet in his direction so he could see the flowers with the petals that were turning brown.
"Oh," he finally said, then nodded his head. "Y-yeah, thanks. D'you mind if I just-" he jutted his thumb over his shoulder.
"It's no big deal, I'll wait."
He gave you a crooked grin and disappeared back into the store. The florist department wasn't far from the registers but it was enough time for Andy to lock eyes with you from customer service and give you a look. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back around just as the hot flower guy was returning with a new selection.
"Thanks," he said again once you handed him his receipt. He didn't make a move to leave.
"Don't mention it," you replied, feeling Andy's stupid grin burning into the back of your head the longer hot flower guy stood there.
"Have you worked here long?" he asked after a brief silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. You blinked, taken aback at the random question and tried to ignore your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest.
"Um, just over four years," you replied. His beautiful dark eyes drifted over your face as he nodded and swallowed before looking back down at his flowers.
"You work most Fridays?"
You could feel your cheeks warming up and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. How can someone be embarrassed for being embarrassed? Jesus, you were such a mess.
"Yep," you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and praying he didn't notice how flushed you were.
He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. If you weren't so absorbed in your own uneasiness you might have noticed he was acting just as uncomfortable as you.
When he opened his mouth to say something else, a middle aged woman pushed her cart up behind him and began to unload her groceries onto the belt. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and nervously swiped his palm over his mouth.
"Have a good night," he told you abruptly, and before you had a chance to reply he was halfway to the front door.
The following week was busier and you lost track of time. Typically, as your shift dragged on, you began to anticipate his arrival but on that particular day, you were distracted. Andy ended up having to help out on another register, it was so busy.
"You wanna come out with us tonight?" Andy asked you over his shoulder. He was closing down the extra register while you were finishing up with a young mom who had her hands full wrangling her toddler away from the candy.
"Uh, yeah, sure," you agreed absentmindedly, lifting the last paper bag into the cart. You tapped a key on your register so she could slide her card through the reader and looked over at Andy. "Where are you guys going?"
"Murray's," he replied immediately, his focus still on counting the coins in the drawer. You rolled your eyes and grinned.
"Why am I not surprised?"
It was well known Andy harbored a huge crush on a bartender there and he had been trying to work up the courage for months to ask for her number.
"Thank you, have a good night," you told the young woman, handing over her receipt with a smile. When you glanced up to greet your next customer, you felt your heart skip a beat when you were met with those dark brown eyes you had grown so enamored with.
"It must be later than I thought," you said, without even thinking twice. Surprise passed over his beautiful features as you scanned his flowers and then your nerves finally caught up with you. "I-I mean, you usually come in around the same time every week," you explained hurriedly. Andy was smirking at you from behind hot flower guy's broad shoulder and you made a mental note to punch him later.
"I didn't realize you noticed," he replied after he cleared his throat.
Oh, you idiot. You could tell you made him uncomfortable with your comment and you just prayed he didn't figure out you had been lusting after him all these months with the little observation you made.
"You always pick out the best flower arrangements, it's hard not to," Andy piped up. Relief flooded your veins for the save. Maybe you should rethink that punch. "Must be one lucky girl," he added with a mischievous wink in your direction before picking up the drawer and walking towards the office, leaving just the two of you with Andy's loaded comment hanging heavy in the air.
He took his time pulling his credit card out of his wallet, wracking his brain for something to say. His cheeks dusted with pink the longer he took to formulate a sentence.
"So... Murray's, huh?" he asked, cringing inwardly at the stupid question as he swiped his card.
You blinked, confused at the change in topic until it clicked. "Oh, yeah. He drags a bunch of us out after work sometimes because he's got a thing for a girl who works there." You gave the man behind hot flower guy a smile as he unloaded his groceries on the belt.
Your handsome stranger froze, his hand still holding the receipt midair while the gears turned in his head.
"So, you two aren't-"
"Oh, sorry, excuse me," the customer behind him mumbled when he accidentally bumped into him with his cart.
"Have a good night," you told him with a sweet smile, then quickly turned away, hoping your hair would hide your embarrassment.
"I am not playing darts with her! Don't you remember last time? She almost took my eye out!"
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" you laughed, shoving Courtney, another co-worker of yours, in the shoulder. There were only five of you that night, Courtney being the only other girl in your group, but you were fine with that. Over the past few years you all bonded over the shared trauma of nasty customers and terrible management to the point where you were like family, and nights where you blew off steam only brought you closer together.
"Anyone need anything? I'm heading up," Andy shouted over the live band.
"Didn't you just get a water a minute ago?" you teased, knowing full well he was looking for an excuse to talk to the bartender.
"What can I say? I'm thirsty," Andy replied with a smirk before pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar.
"When the hell's he just gonna ask her out? We've been coming here for months," Courtney said, turning away from the bar to look at you. You took a sip from your mixed drink and shrugged.
"Probably for the best. You know if he makes things weird then we'll need to find a new spot to hang out."
She giggled and winced when the band began to sing Journey off-key. "God, these guys are... not it."
"I think it's the owner's way of making us drink more!" James shouted from across the table, the four of you dissolving into laughter. He had a good point because your drink was nearly empty.
"Why didn't you just have Andy get you one?" Courtney asked when you slid down from your barstool.
"If I did, there was, like, a one percent chance he would bring it back to me within the hour," you told her, nodding towards Andy setting up shop against the bar, his eyes trailing after the cute bartender.
It took several minutes but you were finally able to wedge yourself between other patrons and secure a refill of your drink, but when you turned around to walk back to your table you nearly ran right into someone's chest.
"Oh! Sorry, I - " your eyes widened when you tilted your head up to find those familiar brown eyes staring down at you. "It-it's you!" you finally said as the shock began to wear off. He gave you a lopsided grin and nodded.
"Joel," he offered, sticking his hand out. Joel. Joel. Joel. You rolled his name around in your head like a ping pong ball. It suited him.
You took his hand, his long fingers dwarfing yours. "I'm-"
Then he cut you off and said your name and once again, you struggled to keep the shock from your face. "Your nametag," he explained, letting your hand go and gesturing towards his own chest where a nametag would sit. "I remember."
"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a smile. You glanced around the room while people shoved past you to get to the bar. "What are you doing here?"
His smile faltered a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't live too far. Had the night to myself so I came out with my brother. He's over there," Joel pointed to the opposite corner of the bar but it was impossible to see him through all the people.
"Oh, cool," you nodded and took a sip from your glass. His eyes drifted to your lips, getting lost in the way they puckered around the straw. "Do you guys come here a lot?"
He chuckled and dropped his chin shyly to his chest before shaking his head. "No, um," he cleared his throat and looked back up at you. "Was hopin' I would run into you, actually."
"Me?" you squeaked and your heart began to race. He nodded and grinned.
"Yeah. Wondered if maybe you'd-"
A huge, burly man who definitely had too much to drink shouldered past you, accidentally shoving you into Joel's chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your ribs to steady you and somehow you didn't spill anything on his clothes.
"God, I'm sorry," you mumbled, his scent making you dizzy. You always had a register between you. Never before had you been that close, noticing he smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower and it was instantly overwhelming.
"It's alright," he said, his arms still loosely wrapped around your midsection. "But I gotta get this out before I lose my nerve, darlin'."
Darlin'. Your brows furrowed and before you could reply, he spoke. "I wondered if you wanted to go out on a date sometime? Maybe a movie or somethin'? I know you work alotta nights but I -"
"You want to go out with me?" you asked in disbelief. He looked at you like you had two heads.
"'Course I do. Wasn't it obvious?" he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.
"No! I thought... nevermind, it doesn't matter," you told him, a smile pulling across your lips. "Yes, I would love to. God, if you only knew-" you stopped yourself by slapping your hand over your mouth and he quirked a playful eyebrow at you but he was too excited that you agreed to go out with him to ask you to finish your thought. He handed you his phone as you shakily typed in your number, hoping your trembling fingers didn't mess it up before giving it back to him.
"I'm gonna text you tomorrow, set somethin' up, yeah?" he asked and you nodded numbly, your mind reeling as you tried to process everything that was happening. He grinned and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Have a good night," he said, the familiar phrase making you smile before disappearing into the crowd.
"Um, who the hell was that?" Courtney questioned the second you arrived back at your table.
"I need a fucking shot first and then I'll tell you, holy shit," you said, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves with no success. She laughed and got you each tequila shots, then you spent the rest of the night telling her all about Joel the hot flower guy.
The next morning, you paid for your crimes. Your head throbbed and your mouth was dry as sand as you stumbled into your bathroom to scoop water from the faucet, desperately trying to quench your thirst. You weren't normally a huge drinker, but after your run-in with Joel, you were so nervous that you found yourself tossing back a few extra drinks than normal. Fortunately, you didn't work until late afternoon, so after you fumbled around your cupboards for some crackers, you fell back into bed. Your eyes widened when you saw a missed text from an unsaved number an hour ago.
Hey, it's Joel. It was great running into you last night. I was thinking we could go to dinner this week, if you're still up for it. What nights are you free?
"Shit," you muttered, running a hand anxiously through your hair. Now that you were sober, the prospect of seeing hot flower guy outside of work made you inexplicably nervous.
You must have typed out and deleted fifteen responses before going with I would love to! I'm free Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights. Or we could do something after I get out of work, we close at nine.
Did you sound too desperate? You chewed on your fingernail as you read your sent text over and over, then shrugged and put your phone down. Too late now, anyway.
It took a while to get his response, but to be fair, you didn't reply to him for an hour.
I can make Sunday work.
Sunday? As in, tomorrow?
"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fully not expecting him to set something up so quickly. You needed time to mentally prepare, but of course you agreed, then quickly texted Courtney, begging for her help on what to wear and how to do your hair.
Yay!! We can talk about it at work tonight!
After you ironed out a time and restaurant with Joel, you popped two pain relievers and chugged some water, hoping to get rid of your hangover before work.
"Okay, so where's he taking you?" Courtney asked excitedly as you stocked cereal together.
"This Italian place on Westwood. Here, I looked it up," you said, pulling out your phone and showing her the menu. "Have you been there before? What do I wear?"
She squinted at your screen and shook her head. "I haven't been there but we can figure this out. It doesn't look that fancy, but you should probably wear a dress or skirt."
"Ooo, do you finally have yourself a date?" Andy asked from halfway down the aisle, clearly overhearing part of your conversation. "Hot flower guy is going to be so disappointed."
You laughed and pocketed your phone. "It's with hot flower guy," you said triumphantly. Andy's eyes bugged out of his head, confused, until you and Courtney explained what happened the night before when he was busy staring at the bartender.
"You should have told me last night! So I guess that means he really is single."
You paused and cocked your head to the side, realizing all of the sudden you still didn't know why he bought flowers every Friday.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so," you replied, turning your attention back to the cereal. Andy and Courtney exchanged worried glances behind your back.
"I'm sure he's not stupid enough to buy flowers from you for another woman every week and then ask you out," Courtney said, glaring at Andy. He cleared his throat and nodded.
"Y-yeah, I mean, maybe they're for a grave or something."
You both turned to him and gave him an incredulous look.
"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, throwing up his hands and walking away. You bit your lip and glanced at Courtney.
"Don't worry about it. There's tons of reasons why guys would buy flowers weekly... maybe he just likes to have fresh flowers in the house. Maybe they're for his mom!"
"Yeah, good point. I bet they're for his mom," you agreed, feeling a little better as you ripped open the next cardboard box full of cereal boxes.
When you woke on Sunday morning, you were already nervous. You could have sworn your heart was slamming in your chest from the moment you opened your eyes, already overthinking your date with Joel.
You spent the afternoon texting Courtney pictures of outfits you hauled out of your closet and tossed on your bed, then decided you needed to try them on for her to get the full effect. You were sitting on your bed, wearing a light blue sundress, the last outfit you had tried on as you gathered your pictures. Your thumb quickly tapped all of the photos of you modeling your options and typed out what one looks the best? then hit send.
As you were unzipping your dress and sliding it down your legs, you heard your phone ping from your bed. You hung up the dress and pulled your sweats back on before reaching for your phone, hesitating when you saw Joel's name pop up. You felt a pit in your stomach, worried that he came to his senses and was asking to cancel, so you sat down on the bed before sliding your thumb over the screen to open his text.
You look great in everything, but I really like the pink one.
Your palms instantly broke out into a sweat and you felt lightheaded.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," you mumbled, scrolling up in your text chain before cursing and throwing yourself into your pillows to scream. In your rush to send your text, you accidentally sent the pictures to Joel instead of Courtney. You waited until you got your bearings and tried to convince yourself it wasn't really that bad, that it definitely could have been worse, before replying.
Ha, sorry. I meant to send those to a friend, but if you like the pink one, then I guess that answers my question
You stared down at your phone, anxiously waiting for his answer, which didn't take very long at all.
You could wear a paper sack and you would still look beautiful.
The grin that stretched across your face was massive. He was probably just sweet talking you and trying to make you feel better about making such a stupid mistake, but damn, it worked.
Looking forward to tonight :) you said in response, then bit your lip and flung yourself backwards on your bed. Your eyes drifted to the light pink dress hanging in your closet and you smiled.
As it turned out, the Italian restaurant was owned by Joel's brother, Tommy. You met the younger man at the host stand when you walked in the door. He had a huge grin plastered across his face and although you were an only child, you could still tell when someone was itching to tease their sibling. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Joel, silently communicating with his brother as you introduced yourself. You managed to catch Joel shooting Tommy a warning glare before nervously resting his hand on your lower back and guiding you through the restaurant to an empty booth in the back.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Joel asked, his dark eyes sparkling even under the dim mood lighting. You giggled and shyly looked down at your lap.
"A couple times."
Joel smiled warmly and leaned forward, his eyes trailing over the soft curves of your jaw and the way your plush lips stretched when he made you smile.
Before the food arrived, you learned a little more about him. He worked in construction, doing mostly residential but some commercial property work. He was trying to go into business for himself, which he told you was difficult but he already had years of experience and contacts in the area. He preferred to do most jobs himself or with as little help as possible because he only trusted his own work, but sometimes he did hire Tommy for a job to help his brother earn extra money.
"And in return, he lets me eat here for free," Joel finished, wiping the small smudge of red sauce from the corner of his mouth.
"That sounds like a win-win," you joked, and Joel chuckled.
"Tell me 'bout yourself. You said you been workin' at the store for four years?"
"Yeah," you nodded, pushing your empty plate to the side. "It's just meant to be temporary. I'm going to community college three days a week. Trying to get my degree so I can get a job with normal hours."
Joel hummed and leaned back in the booth. "What'dya wanna do?"
You shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. Hoping I figure that out as I go. I just know being a cashier for the rest of my life isn't for me, you know?"
"Yeah, sure," he agreed. "I could ask 'round if you want. Maybe some place is hirin' a receptionist or somethin'?"
"Oh, it's okay," you waved him off with a smile. "I appreciate it, though."
Afterwards, he took you for ice cream. You sat together outside the ice cream stand on a bench. The temperature outside was perfect and the place was mobbed. Kids ran around playing tag while other families gathered around picnic tables, laughing and telling each other about their days while you tried not to stare at Joel licking his ice cream and fantasizing about what that would look like between your legs.
"I wouldn't've pegged you for a strawberry girl," he said, nodding towards your rapidly melting ice cream.
"It reminds me of when I was a kid. My grandma liked to take me out for ice cream when she babysat me and strawberry was her favorite."
He smiled, listening to you talk about your family, getting a brief glimpse into your life, leaving him wanting more.
You thought everything was going so well. The date went perfectly. There wasn't as much awkwardness as you originally thought there would be and Joel was very easy to talk to. So when he dropped you off at your door and you invited him inside, you were surprised and somewhat hurt when he declined after a quick glance at his watch. He only kissed your cheek before telling you have a good night and backing out of your driveway, leaving you confused and a little self-conscious.
"He's probably just a gentleman," Courtney assured you the following day, "wants to take things slow and all that."
And you agreed. Once you had time to process everything, that seemed like exactly what it was, and you began to feel better.
But then Joel took you on a second date, and then a third, and he still hadn't tried to kiss you or make a move whatsoever.
"Maybe he's just rusty," Courtney offered after the fourth date and still finding yourself being shot down. "He wouldn't keep going out with you if he didn't like you."
Once again, Courtney made sense and you agreed he just liked to take things slower than you were used to.
But on your fifth date, where he took you to a baseball game, you misjudged the size of the beers they sold and you found yourself tipsier than you expected. Joel seemed really into the game but turned his focus on you whenever you searched for it, which, as the night wore on and the alcohol buzzed in your veins, became more and more frequent. You would ask him questions about how the game was played, even though your father watched baseball your whole life, just so you could listen to him talk. You looped your arm through his when the game was over and you both shuffled out of the stadium with a whole herd of drunk fans, back out into the parking lot. You tightly held onto his bicep, the feeling of his muscles under you fingertips more intoxicating than the beer, as he escorted you to his truck.
On the drive back to your place, you could feel your confidence building. Maybe he's just shy and doesn't know how to make a move. Maybe he just needs a clearer sign. Maybe he's waiting for you to make a move.
So, when he walked you to your door and he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you turned your face at the last second and locked your lips with his.
You could feel his surprise when your lips met. He froze and stopped breathing as he tried to figure out what to do, so you decided to make things easier for him and draped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and massaging your lips over his, urging him to reciprocate.
And finally, his hands flew up to your waist and tugged you against him. His mouth began to move and he crowded you up against your door. When your back made contact with the wood and his large palms squeezed gently at your hips, you moaned into his mouth. You had been dying for this for weeks and you would be damned it you were going to let it stop too soon.
Without even asking this time, you reached behind you and fumbled with your doorknob, twisting it blindly without breaking the kiss so you could both stumble inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, tongue licking at the seam of your lips while he brought one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. You granted him access, parting your lips and tangling your tongues together as he continued to walk you backwards. He opened his eyes and glanced around the dark living room quickly before pulling away and whispering one word: bedroom?
The way he said it made your knees weak and your heart flutter excitedly in your chest. You pulled him down for one more kiss before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him down the hall. About halfway to your room, his lips latched onto the crook of your neck and you slowed down, closing your eyes and twisting around in his arms so you could kiss him again. He pinned you against the wall with a groan, his thumb and forefinger clutching your jaw, prying it open so he could devour you. You hooked one leg over his hips and he let go of your jaw so he could grab the backs of your thighs and haul you off the ground.
You tugged at his hair impatiently, then gasped when he ground himself against your core, your body jolting in his arms and knocking a canvas print off the wall.
"Shit," he muttered, barely sparing the picture a glance before peeling you off the wall and carrying you towards your bedroom with your ankles hooked together at his lower back. You giggled against his mouth then squealed when he tossed you onto your bed. His hands glided underneath your dress and up your legs, slipping his fingers around the the waistband of your panties and tugging them down, pausing once he got to your knees. He blinked a few times like he was snapping out of a stupor and glanced up at you.
"Is this okay?"
"God, yes," you said, reaching behind you to tug at your zipper. You tried to shrug off your dress but his lips found yours and you quickly got distracted. You nibbled at his bottom lip while simultaneously tugging at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up over his soft stomach and stopping at his broad shoulders. He broke away just long enough to lean back and toss the shirt over his head and he was back on top of you before you could even drink him in.
You dragged your mouth over his chin, biting and nipping as you went. He groaned as you left open mouthed kisses across his jaw, his prickly beard tickling your tongue. "My dress," you whispered against his cheek before mouthing at the skin there, "take it off."
His palms slid over your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down while you wiggled a bit, helping move the fabric down your body. You arched your back so he could pull your dress all the way off, his breath getting caught in this throat when your nipples brushed against his bare chest.
He couldn't resist. When your dress was discarded on the floor, he sat back between your legs to admire your naked body, completely transfixed. Too much time had passed without him saying anything and you grew self-conscious, so you slowly began to cross your arms over your chest, but he stopped you.
"No," he rasped with a shake of his head. "You're so beautiful, just wanna look at you another minute."
Your cheeks flared with heat but you dropped your hands and gazed up at him, watching his eyes flicker excitedly over your body, memorizing every curve and freckle he could find. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a twitch in his pants and you glanced down at the outline of his cock through his jeans. You bit your lip and he followed your gaze, palming his erection briefly before undoing his pants.
"Oh," you whispered to yourself when you saw his cock spring free. He wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and glanced up at you as he crawled back up the mattress on his knees. "You're big," you added, unable to look away. He blushed but didn't reply. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you, this time slower. You shuddered in anticipation when you felt the tip of his leaking cock brush against your pussy and he froze.
"Shit, wait," he grumbled, sitting back on his heels before reaching for his wallet, which was still stuffed inside his jeans. You figured out the problem and leaned over to your nightstand, fishing around in the drawer until you found a condom and held it out for him. He looked relieved when he saw the little foil square and tossed his wallet back onto the ground before ripping open the condom and rolling it on.
"Sorry. It's... been a while. Wasn't exactly prepared," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The endearing confession just made you want him even more.
"It's okay, come here," you murmured, reaching your arms out for him. He grinned and fell down onto his elbows, kissing you slow and deep. When you felt him rest his tip at your entrance, you tensed up.
"Relax," he whispered in your ear. You slid your eyes shut and snaked your arms around his shoulders, gasping sharply when he pressed forward. When he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that made you dizzy.
"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered when he bottomed out, your body stretching around his girth, the sting setting your nerves on fire.
He groaned against your neck and began to rock his hips steadily, making sure to not go too fast. He could tell you were still getting adjusted but it had just been so fucking long and he liked you so much, it was difficult to hold back. He could feel the sweat collecting between his shoulder blades as he focused all his energy on going slow, and when he felt your thighs relax around his waist and your back arch underneath him, he sighed with relief.
"More," you moaned, pressing your body against his, trying to get as close as possible. He growled and dipped his mouth down to capture one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, releasing it with a wet pop and reveling in the sweet noises you made for him.
He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how much he thought about you, how long he wanted to ask you out, how he wanted to know everything about you, how nervous you made him with just a simple glance. But he didn't say any of that. It had been so long since he had gone on a date that he wasn't even sure what women liked anymore. So he remained silent, focusing on not coming too soon while paying close attention to your cues, memorizing what you liked based on the breathy whines in his ear and the way your fingers clutched frantically at his hair. You, however, took his silence to mean he wasn't enjoying himself and you really, really didn't want that, so you pushed gently on his shoulder, drawing his attention.
"Let's switch," you murmured, and he gave you a quizzical look. "Why don't you lay back and let me do some of the work?" you explained, nipping playfully at his jaw.
When his head settled into your pillows, watching with heavy lidded eyes as you straddled him before catching his gaze and slowly sinking down, taking every inch of his cock with a low moan, he thought for sure it would be the death of him. You looked so beautiful all spread out and full of him that he had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn't come just looking at you.
Then you started riding him and his eyes flew open, his chest heaving as he watched your tits bounce and your head tip back in ecstasy and he knew he was done for.
"Wait," he rasped, grabbing your waist and stilling your hips. You stopped, swollen lips parted as you panted for air and looked down at him.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothin'," he stammered, taking a few deep breaths in before chuckling. "I'm just... I need a minute, is all."
You could see the red beginning to stain his cheeks and the look of embarrassment flicker across his face, melting your heart. Leaning down, you cupped his jaw and kissed him tenderly.
"Is that why you've been so quiet?" you asked softly, leaning back so you could look into his eyes but still holding his cheek in the palm of your hand. He nodded, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist.
"I'm sorry. I haven't been with anyone in years and I've been tryin' to take things slow with you but I think all the buildup just made it worse." You grinned and took his other hand.
"Don't be sorry. I think it's hot," you whispered, pulling his free hand down between your bodies. He splayed his hand out across your lower abdomen and you took his thumb between your fingers, pulling it down so it made direct contact with your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the pressure and a slow smile spread across his face when he realized what you were doing.
"Yeah? Why's it hot?" he asked, drawing slow circles over your clit and watching your jaw fall open and your eyes flutter shut. Both your hands dropped to his chest, holding yourself up.
"Because," you began, then bit your lip and moaned when he picked up the pace. "Because it's l-like you c-can't control yourself. Like y-you need me so badly, you can't hold back." You knew it sounded pathetic but you didn't care. His touch was intoxicating and you needed more.
"I can't," he admitted, his eyes glued to your face, taking pride in how good he made you feel. "I can't control myself. Wanted you for so long. Been thinkin' about this for months."
You gasped and your eyes snapped open, locking onto his. "Me, too. I never thought, shit, never thought you noticed me."
"Are you kiddin' me? I noticed you the first day." Now that the truth was out there, the words wouldn't stop coming. "You were wearin' a yellow shirt and I saw these perfect fuckin' tits when you bent over. Went home that night and-"
He stopped himself, wondering if he was going too far, but you dug your fingers into his chest and urged him to continue, desperately gasping for air as his thumb applied more pressure.
"Say it," you whispered. His cock pulsed angrily inside you, begging for release.
"Went home and fucked my fist thinkin' 'bout you."
You groaned loudly and leaned back, grabbing your breasts and playing with your nipples. "Fuck, I'm close, Joel."
"Yeah? Can you ride me, baby? Wanna come with you," he begged, his voice strained. Immediately, you resumed bouncing on his cock, letting go of your tits so you could brace yourself on his chest once again.
He watched in awe as you gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, stilling for just a moment, pulsing around his length as you came, his name and curses tumbling from your lips.
He couldn't hold back any longer.
He grabbed your hips with both hands and slammed up into you, grunting louder and louder each time. And it didn't take long. You had barely recovered from your own orgasm before he groaned, his eyes trained on where you were connected, thrusting as deep as he could go while his cock throbbed inside you.
"Fuck," he whispered, his head falling back limply onto your pillow. You slumped forward and buried your face against his neck, each of you trying to regulate your breathing.
"That was..." you began, trailing off when you realized your brain was still a pile of mush.
"Better than I ever imagined," Joel finished for you, wrapping his arms around your ribs.
Regrettably, he eventually pulled out, making you both wince. You rolled over onto your back and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. If you had any energy left, you might have shot off a quick text to Courtney, but you were barely coherent by the time he slipped back into your bed.
You didn't even need to ask if he was staying the night. He pulled you into his arms, his chest pressed up against your back when you fell asleep, completely at ease.
It could have been the beer or the sex, but you didn't hear his phone go off in the middle of the night. You didn't feel him slip his arm out from under you so he could answer the call in your living room, and you definitely didn't hear him quickly dress and leave.
It was finally Friday and you were moments away from calling off from work. The thought of facing him again made your stomach roll and your head swim.
You hadn't heard from Joel since he left in the middle of the night after you slept together, days ago. You foolishly texted and called him multiple times, but he never answered. Eventually, you got the message.
Countless hours were spent crying, then more were spent stalking around your place angrily, and a mixture of the two happened at work when either Courtney or Andy asked you about hot flower guy.
They eventually learned not to ask.
As badly as you wanted to call off, you dragged yourself into work. Andy offered to take over the registers so you could hide in the aisles stocking shelves during the hour Joel typically showed up, and you shamefully took him up on it. But when it was close to closing time and you made your way back to the front, Andy shrugged his shoulders.
"He never came."
You had a moment where you worried that something happened to him and you considered texting him just one more time, but when you got into your car that night and opened your text chain to a long list of unanswered texts, you changed your mind.
However, the next morning you awoke to a handful of texts from Joel. At first, your heart raced in your chest, but then your anger crept up and you had half a mind to just delete them. After you had some coffee and a chance to think clearly, your curiosity won and you opened the texts.
I'm so sorry
Something came up
Can you call me back?
Please let me explain
Your fingers hovered over your screen as you debated on what to say. Then you decided to leave the messages unanswered. At least for a little while. If he left you hanging for almost a week, he could wait a few hours, right?
What you didn't expect, however, was for him to show up at the store on a Saturday. He only ever came on Friday evenings. You were cashing out a customer, zoning out a bit, grateful for the distraction. When you reached for the receipt, your eyes locked with his and your pulse began to race. He was holding a bouquet of white roses and looking at you with a guilty expression. Your fingers froze around the paper momentarily until the little old lady in front of him cleared her throat and you blinked, snapping out of it and handing her the receipt with an apologetic smile.
"Hey," he said, but you kept your gaze trained down at the scanner.
"Hi."
Your hands shook as you scanned his flowers, doing your best to get the interaction over with as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Andy at customer service notice Joel in line, watching from a distance in case you needed rescuing.
"You didn't respond to my texts," he said quietly. You shrugged.
"I've been busy," was all you said, tapping the button on the register for credit.
After he paid, you handed him his receipt and forced yourself to look at him. You could see in his eyes he looked exhausted and run down and despite how upset you were, you felt bad. But you felt even worse after he pocketed the receipt and handed you the flowers.
"They're for you."
"Oh," you said, surprised, as you looked down at the roses. "T-thank you."
Joel looked over his shoulder when a young couple began to unload their groceries on the belt. You panicked, not sure what to do or say, and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Why don't you take your break?" Andy offered, "I'll cover."
You gave him a shaky smile, both of you knowing full well you already had your break. "Yeah, okay." Glancing over at Joel, you tilted your head towards the front door and he nodded.
"I'm so sorry I left without sayin' anythin'," he began when you sat down together on a bench outside the store. "There was an emergency and I had to go."
"You could have texted me or left a note," you said sadly, looking down at the flowers clutched in your hands.
"I know, and I was gonna, but my damn phone died and I was in the hospital for days. I was outta town, couldn't leave, I even wore the same clothes the whole time," he rubbed his face and sighed. "And once we got back home, I wanted to explain in person what happened."
"We?" you questioned. He dropped his chin to his chest and nodded solemnly.
"I have a daughter," he confessed, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"W-what?" you whispered softly, "why didn't you tell me, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together, still avoiding your gaze.
"I don't know. In the past, women haven't exactly been thrilled findin' out I come with baggage and I guess I was bein' selfish." He finally looked up and you could see the pain behind his eyes. "I was tryin' to find the right way to tell you but I was so scared of losin' you."
You shook your head in disbelief. "It doesn't bother me at all that you have a daughter, Joel," you told him, "it bothers me that you lied."
He inched forward on the bench and put his hand on your knee. "I know. I'm so sorry. It was stupid. If you gimme another chance, I promise I'll never lie to you again."
Your chest tightened and you had to look away. He was so sincere, you could feel your resolve crumbling. After a moment, you dragged your eyes back up to him and you could swear he looked like he was on the verge of tears.
"Is she okay?"
He blinked rapidly for a moment, surprised by your question, then nodded.
"Yeah. She's okay now. She had appendicitis. She was with her mom last week. She lives an hour outside Austin and I just went right there from your place. Scared the shit outta me," he finished with a dry chuckle. Then something clicked.
"Your daughter..."
"Sarah."
"Sarah," you repeated. "The flowers you bought every week. Were they for her?"
He smiled shyly and nodded. "Yeah. She gets nervous goin' to her mom's still. The situation is a little rocky so I always get her flowers. Whether she's goin' there or comin' back. They make her smile," he said with a little shrug, and your heart melted.
"That's... that's really sweet," you said, looking down once again at the roses he bought you. He watched you closely for a moment then sat back on the bench, scratching his chin and trying to read your mind. Everything was out in the open now. He should have listened to Tommy and just told you the truth from the first date, but he couldn't remember the last time he ever felt so strongly about someone else before.
Just when he was about to leave, wanting to give you your space to think things over, you spoke again.
"So when are you free next?"
Joel exhaled in relief, then laughed. "Tomorrow?"
You bit your lip and nodded, then leaned forward and cupped his jaw, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"It's a date," you whispered before standing up. He watched you from the bench as you walked towards the front doors. At the last moment you turned around, the white roses clutched against your chest, and called out, "have a good night."
He grinned.
"Have a good night."
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Next Door to Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)
Word Count: 3,188
Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.
Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰
Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!
Last week
Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.
You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.
Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.
The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.
Oh hi neighbor.
Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.
You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.
His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.
He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.
“Can I help you doll?”
“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”
“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. “Lucky me.”
You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.
“I’ll take care of ya doll.”
With a wink he holds up one long finger.
“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”
He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.
You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.
Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.
“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”
You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.
“Ah, of course he likes you.”
You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.
“Thank you….?”
“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”
“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.
You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”
“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”
“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”
His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.
You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.
The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”
“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”
Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”
Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.
“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”
You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.
“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”
He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.
“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”
You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”
He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.
“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”
He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.
“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”
He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”
“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.
“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Would you say yes if I were?”
Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.
Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.
Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.
“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”
“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.
Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.
“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.
You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”
You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.
The next morning you get another text from him.
“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”
“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.
“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”
“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”
“Just you…”
“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”
“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”
“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”
He sends a wink face.
“Is it Saturday yet?”
“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”
“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”
“Have a good day Bucky.”
“You too doll…stay dry.”
You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.
The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.
“Oh doll. Look at you.”
He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.
“Soaked,” you say sadly.
“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”
The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.
“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.
“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”
He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.
“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”
He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.
“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”
His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.
“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.
He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”
“Why not?”
“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.
“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.
“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”
“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.
With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.
“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”
“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”
“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.
He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.
Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.
Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.
“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”
The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.
“Oh I like that,” you whisper.
He does it again.
“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”
His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.
“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.
“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.
“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.
A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.
When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.
He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.
You tremble.
“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.
“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“See you later Bucky.”
“I’m counting on it doll.”
You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.
Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.
“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”
“It’s really Saturday!”
“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”
“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”
“What kinds of things….?”
“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”
You can almost hear his groan through the phone.
“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”
Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.
“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.
It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.
“He’s at least a nine.”
Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.
“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.
The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.
“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”
“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”
“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.
“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”
Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.
“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.
“I’m right here,” you say.
Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.
“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.
However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.
“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”
Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”
“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”
“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”
“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.
“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.
“You didn’t shave.”
He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.
“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.
“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”
Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.
Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.
“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.
When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.
The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.
The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.
“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”
After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.
“Where are we going now?” you ask.
“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.
As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.
“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.
“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”
When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.
“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.
He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”
You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.
His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.
You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.
With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.
“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.
His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.
“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.
His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.
“Please, Bucky,” you pant.
“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”
@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50
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