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nickfowlerrr · 7 days
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18+ ONLY. minors dni.
i write my fics with curvy/plus sized readers in mind, but obviously anyone of any shape and size is welcome to read - i aim to keep them as open as possible.
each post has its own individual warnings. they are not exhaustive, but please read them.
moodboards. library. ao3.
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bucky barnes fics
lee bodecker fics
steve kemp fics
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andy barber
all i want - (smut, fluff)
waiting - (dark, angst)
august walker
baby, all night - (smut)
good for you - (smut)
charles blackwood
pretty thing - (dark)
darling, it’s cold outside - (smut, fluff)
geralt of rivia
sit me on your throne - (smut)
lance tucker
untitled drabble - (smut)
max burnett
and i don’t wanna leave - (smut, angst, fluff)
your forever is all that i need - (smut, angst, fluff)
mickey henry
have i known you twenty seconds, or twenty years? - (fluff, smut)
nick fowler
taking care - (angst, smut, dark, fluff)
steve rogers
working overtime - (smut, fluff)
stucky x reader / steve x reader x bucky
fawn - (dark, smut)
go your own way - (angst)
it’s nice to have a friend - (angst, fluff)
such a tease - (smut, fluff)
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still to come:
god the bounty hunter
walter marshall
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nickfowlerrr · 2 months
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this has been fun. thank you to everyone who ever read any of these fics, sent a kind ask, or left a nice comment or reblog. so much love to each and every one of you! these fics will stay up here and should eventually be added to my ao3 (nickfowler).
i really do appreciate all of you. these last three years have been… a lot. and it’s been so nice having this space to be able to come to when i needed it. you all mean so much to me and i wish nothing but the best for every one of you.
it’s my hope to get my unfinished works completed one day but they probably won’t be posted here. if/when i do get them done they’ll be on buckysburdens or, again, to my ao3. not sure how often i’ll be on there, but that will be the only tumblr you’ll be able to find me at now. i hope to see y’all around 💞
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nickfowlerrr · 3 months
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outfit inspo for it's a love story in case anyone cares <3
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nickfowlerrr · 3 months
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it’s a love story, baby, just say yes.
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pairing: neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader
warnings: not the conclusion i was hoping for but that just means there’s more of these two to come. this feels like such a tease of a chapter lol i’m sorry. no smut. a lil tinny tiny bit of angst from reader’s perspective. mostly cute idiots in love. if something needs to be tagged please let me know.
words: 3.2k
notes: is the title a little on the nose? yes, yes it is. and it took me forever to land on. 💀 there will be more, i promise. sorry for the wait. thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy this little update. 🫶🏻 also also! happy birthday again to the anon who messaged me about this next part. hope your day was wonderful ✨💗
series masterlist / character outfit inspo
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Breathe.
In.
Out.
Easy.
Just like that.
You can’t stop looking in the mirror.
You look…you look…god. You look terrified. 
Fuck.
This was a bad decision. A really bad decision.
What the hell were you thinking?
What the hell was he thinking?
God, you feel like you can’t breathe again.
Focus.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
You smooth your skirt, pulling it once again for no reason. None other than habit, you suppose.
You look over yourself. Not awful, you think. You’re wearing your staple black long sleeve top with your high waisted houndstooth skirt. It’s cold outside, so you’re in your black thigh high boots. The ones that took you ages to find but have been your favorite since coming across them. You swear this pair was made in heaven because it felt like a miracle finding ones that actually fit your legs properly. You’ve accessorized with your trusty belt and your favorite jewelry and your hair somehow looks the best it has in days. Makeup is flawless and though you try to find something to fix…you just can’t. 
And still, there’s that gnawing feeling telling you that you’re doing something wrong - that you are wrong.
You don’t know why you’re being so down on yourself today, but it seems like you’ve poked at each and every insecurity you’ve ever had in the past hour alone.
Maybe some part of your mind thinks it’ll convince you to not go through with this if you feel badly enough. Too bad you don’t really have the option of chickening out.
You sigh and finally look away from the mirror, instead reaching for your bottle of perfume and spraying yourself lightly with the lovely scent.
You smile a bit as you set the bottle back down in its spot.
You remember the first time you wore it. It was the day after your birthday - you had gotten it for yourself as a gift. You went over to Bucky's for your weekly movie watch and when you walked by him as he held his front door open for you, he seemed immediately taken. He was all over you as he followed you in close behind. 
You had jerked away when he leaned in to smell you, giving him a look of incredulity.
“Creep,” you groused.
“Sorry,” he laughed, “but you smell incredible,” he complimented, leaning into you again. “Is that new?”
“It is, yeah. Smells good, right?” you smiled, loving your choice even more.
“Like heaven,” he simpered.
You knew he loved this perfume, but that is not why you are wearing it tonight, you tell yourself. That is simply a coincidence. It may be his favorite, but it was your favorite first. 
You double check your phone, despite it having not gone off at all in the past two hours, just to ensure you weren’t missing any messages…particularly one that would read something along the lines of “Sorry to cancel so last minute but…”.
Of course, you find nothing.
Checking the time, you have fifteen minutes til seven. 
Fifteen was plenty of time to get yourself to finally calm the hell down a bit.
You can do this.
It’ll be…what it is.
And no matter what it is, it’ll be.
You breathe a deep breath.
…Maybe you still have time to cancel…
A knock on your front door startles you and you leave your room to stand in your hallway, eyeing the door as if you’re expecting it to burst open despite the gentleness of the sound.
Nothing.
Then another knock.
You brace yourself, swallowing thickly as you approach the door.
Of course you know who it is.
Impending doom.
No! Stop with the negativity, you chastise yourself.
Of course he’d be early. If you weren’t so caught up in your head, you’d roll your eyes at his punctuality. You shouldn’t have expected anything less.
“Early is on time, on time is late.” You can hear him saying it now.
You get to the door and unlock the bolts one at a time, as slowly as you can, trying to drag out the inevitable as you focus on your breathing. 
You grab hold of the knob, and once again remind yourself to get your shit together. The door slowly creaks open as you pull on it heavily and when you finally chance at glance at the man at your door, you find Bucky’s eyes on you. His lips part ever so slightly as he takes you in before his gaze comes back up to meet yours. 
He titters, the corner of his lips coming up in a half smirk as he breathes a sigh of relief. 
“You answered,” he says.
“Yeah,” you blink dumbly at his words, “why wouldn’t I have?”
“I don’t know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he accuses. “I was honestly a little worried you were gonna cancel on me.”
You look down, a little embarrassed at being called out. But he was right, you had been avoiding him. 
Well not him. It wasn’t him. It was just the nerves. You weren’t sure you’d be able to talk to him, let alone look at him without somehow screwing everything up all too quickly. 
Anytime you caught even just a glimpse of him in the hallway or heard what could have been him coming or going as you were, you would make yourself scarce as soon as possible. Even when you clearly saw one another, eye contact established and everything, you’d be gone before he could get a word out in your direction. The last time you spoke with him face to face was New Year’s Eve. 
The breathy “yes,” that left your lips still shocked you when you thought back on it. Which you had often this past week. Replaying the way Bucky’s face lit up at your answer, how happy he looked… before you quickly turned tail and rushed your “good night”; hurrying back to your apartment and leaving Bucky standing there in a bit of a stupor, huffing a laugh out his nose as he watched you flee, but his half smile never breaking as he called a good night after you.
Bucky has tried to talk to you since then, of course, but you just kept evading him. If he really wanted or needed to get to you, truthfully, he could have - but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. And a part of him was worried about the two very same things you were, just from his side.
Part of you was afraid you’d just flounder and end up outright canceling and the other part was scared you’d lose all self control and end up kissing him again. Not that that sounded like the worst thing in the world…But still, you kept your distance while you could.
“These are for you, gorgeous,” he continues before you can say anything in response. You only then notice the bouquet of flowers he holds in his hand. 
They’re gorgeous. Nicer than the ones he had on Valentine’s day, and even nicer than the bouquet you had been gifted from your coworker that day, too. 
“Wow,” is all you can utter as you take them from him. “Thank you,” your voice is quiet as your surprise at the gesture overwhelms you.
You’ve never been given flowers this nice before. And you definitely weren’t expecting it.
“They’re so pretty,” you say, eyes flitting up to see his enamored gaze on you before you look back down to the flowers.
“Just like you,” he says, stepping closer to you in the doorway. “You look stunning.”
You smile, albeit a bit stiffly, at the compliment, offering another ‘thank you’.
Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire at his words and you bite your lip as you turn from him to head to the kitchen.
A second passes and you turn back to see him still standing in the doorway, not following you.
You raise a brow, “What are you a vampire?” you ask sarcastically. “Come in,” you instruct with a laugh.
“Didn’t want to be presumptuous,” he says, finally coming inside, closing the door gently behind him.
“Yeah? Since when?”
He smirks again then, following you to the kitchen as you search out your vase. 
“I’m being a gentleman,” he states.
You eye him, scoffing before turning back to readying the bouquet for the water. 
 “What’s funny?” he questions, faux offense in his voice.
“You,” you shake your head, fighting your smile. “...You look nice, by the way,” you compliment after a second of fighting your nerves.
“Thanks, doll.”
You jump as his voice comes from right beside you, his stealth surprising you. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he laughs, admiring your handiwork as you arrange the flowers just right. 
You turn into him, taking a breath as you really look at him again. The blue of his eyes stand out even more with the depth of his black sweater under his dark wool overcoat. The outfit fits him well, you absentmindedly admire. He really does look nice. 
God, he always does. 
You breathe in his dark, woody cologne in your proximity and your knees threaten to go wobbly as you do. 
Is this really real?
“You ready?” he asks. You flit the thoughts away and meet his eye, nodding in response before you look at his arm as he offers it to you. 
You meet his eye once more before taking it and he leads you to the front door, but not before you grab a coat of your own. 
Breathe, you remind yourself.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Easy.
Walking up to the doors of the restaurant side by side with Bucky, you feel that contentment you only ever feel when he’s around. 
The cab ride was nice, the sound of the rain falling outside lulling you unthinkingly into Bucky’s side as you looked out the window, street lights and headlights flashing by - people with umbrellas still walking along the city streets. 
You smiled as you felt Bucky’s warmth radiating from him, the slow alternative music flowing through the speakers making everything feel that much more intimate. You’ve spent plenty of time with Bucky, you’ve sat this close to him before, but this still felt different. The date hadn’t even really begun and you could end the night right here and now and still be happy.
Man, was that pathetic?
You started to feel the worry building up inside you again, but then you felt Bucky’s arm come around your shoulders, holding you to him. You instantly relaxed into him, but didn’t turn your head to meet his gaze. 
What had you been so concerned about to begin with? It’s not like you were or ever had been forcing yourself or your presence on the man. Bucky asked you on this date. He kissed you first. And even before the party, he always invited you over to his place, and would somehow always manage to convince you to stay just a little bit longer - no matter how long you’d been there. It was clear he liked being around you. All the signs of reciprocated feelings were there. And yet for some reason, you still found it hard to believe.
You felt like you were in a dream.
Bucky guides you up the short steps leading up to the entrance of the establishment, his hand on your back as you take careful steps in your heeled boots on the slippery steps as the rain continues beating down on and all around you. Your left hand is in his metal one as you hold onto it for balance.
Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you to enter before he gives his name to the host at the front of the restaurant. 
“Sergeant Barnes, it’s an honor. Please, follow me this way, your table is all ready,” the young man smiles before he walks you and Bucky to the back, to a closed off area of the restaurant. You look around, a bit confused, but not at all upset at the privacy.
There is a table set for two in the dimmed dining area, a small lit candle on the table along with more flowers. Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest as you take it all in.
Your seat is pulled out for you by Bucky before he helps you out of your coat, and once you’re sat, he effortlessly pushes your seat back closer to the table before he removes his own coat and takes his seat across from you.
Your host shows you the menus briefly and takes your drink orders before he takes his leave, letting you know your waiter will be by soon to get drinks started.
It’s not a five star restaurant, more like a quaint, family owned eatery, but it feels even more intimate here. And with only you and Bucky back here, you really feel like you’re in your own little world. It’s nice.
It’s more than nice, actually.
It’s damn near perfect.
Bucky smiles at you as he notices you looking at him.
You hadn’t even realized you were, but you don’t look away despite being caught.
“I’m impressed, Barnes,” you offer with a small smile. “I was expecting…well,” you huff a laugh, “I don’t know what I was expecting, but this is still somehow exceeding all expectations.”
“Good,” he smiles. “I know you hate fancy food so I thought this place would be perfect. Mom and Pop’s kinda dinner.” His voice doesn’t sound it, but from the way he breaks eye contact as he over explains himself, you know he wasn’t entirely sure about his decision to come here over somewhere else.
“I do hate fancy food,” you nod. “This was a good choice.” You pick up your menu and look it over, giving some thought to what sounds appetizing. “What are you getting?” you ask without looking up. You know Bucky isn’t looking at the menu because you can feel his stare on you. 
“Sirloin,” he says without hesitation, “and you?”
“Mmm. I’m thinking burger.”
“Classic,” he supports.
You titter, setting the menu down after deciding on what you’d be ordering.
Your eyes meet Bucky’s and after a second you give him a nervous smile.
“So…” you begin.
“So,” he echos.
Before you can start to speak again, you see your waiter coming into the private area, walking toward the table, a tray in hand.
You thank him as he sets down the glasses and a basket of warm bread on your table before Bucky gives him your orders.
When you’re all alone again, you copy Bucky as he takes and butters a roll, using the other half of his butter packet so you don’t have to open another one. You tear your roll apart, eating it in pieces as opposed to Bucky who squishes it down and bites into it like it’s a biscuit, amusing you. It’s fresh, so warm, and so fluffy. 
“This is so good,” you rave.
“It’s bread and butter, it’s impossible for it not to be,” he smiles.
You point a manicured finger at him as you chew on your next piece, “You got me there.”
He sets his roll down on the plate as he licks his teeth, eyes trained on you as he does. You try to ignore it as he tilts his head while staring at you. It feels like he’s trying to read your mind.
“So…” he repeats your earlier sentiment, “were you going somewhere with that before?”
You kiss your lips, your eyes flicking up to his. You take a breath, measuring your words.
“Yeah. Uhm,” you think a moment longer. “I’ve just been wondering, how long?”
His brows furrow in an unspoken question but he doesn’t get the chance to ask before you elaborate. 
“You said you’ve been wanting to do this for months, I just - I’m curious how long exactly you’ve been waiting.”
He knows his answer, but he also knows you won’t believe him if he tells you. Since the very first month you met, he’s been wanting to do this. But he won’t say that. Not right now, anyway.
“A while,” he settles on. “A very long while.” 
He holds your eye as he answers you and you know he means it. 
You nod, pursing your lips to keep your smile from completely breaking across your face. “A while…” you muse. “What took you so long?”
“I didn’t wanna scare you away,” he says truthfully.
The look in his eye is so intense and earnest, you have to remind yourself to breathe.
“...You wouldn’t have,” you tell him, your voice quiet, not far off from a whisper.
He can’t help his smirk, “I don’t think that’s true,” he scrutinizes you.
You make a face, a cross between a scowl and fighting a pout. But you know he’s right. God, he has a habit of calling you out every time you need to be. 
“Yeah, okay,” you begrudgingly agree while he relishes in your pouty acceptance.
It took all of your heart’s strength to agree to a date tonight, even after all the time you’ve spent with him, how real you know your feelings to be - whether or not you wanted to play them off as silly daydreams or not - all of this and you really almost did run away scared without giving him an answer that night. You know you would’ve said no in a heartbeat had it been when you first started getting to know one another. You’ve never been one to risk it, you wouldn’t have then, either. 
But sitting across from Bucky here and now, you’re glad you took the chance.
“I guess it’s true what they say…Timing is everything.”
He nods, “And lucky for us, I’m a very patient man.”
You smile, with a quirked brow, “Lucky indeed.” He laughs, his grin full of nothing but admiration and contentment as he leans closer to you across the table. You hadn’t even realized you’d been doing the same, your elbows on the table as you unconsciously wanted to get closer than you already were. Your knees brush, but neither of you move away. In fact, Bucky scoots his chair in closer. Your tongue slips past your lips so quickly you don’t even register it as you wet your lips. You grab your glass, raising it before you and he does the same with his own. 
“To my luck?” he asks, lips still curved in his perfect smile.
“And to your patience,” you add, your own soft smile gracing your face as you look into his brilliant blue gaze, hoping he can see the thankfulness you feel for him there. 
“To your yes.” 
“To the first first date ever that I haven’t wanted to run out on,” you joke.
You lightly clink your glasses, both of you sipping from your drink.
He shrugs as you take another drink from your glass, “Though, the night is young,” he muses.
You sputter on the liquid as you laugh into your glass, earning a similar laugh from Bucky.
You smile through your cough as you look at him again, wiping at the liquid on your chin. His gaze as warm and mirthful as ever.
Yeah, you think. He’s worth the risk.
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
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*after meeting Bucky for the first time*
Y/N, watching him walk out of the lab with Steve: our kids will be smart AND beautiful.
Tony, without looking up from his suit: not to mention imaginary.
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
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PLEASE DO NOT STOP WRITING FOR GERALT I ATE THAT UP it was so GOOD 💕💕💕🩷🩷💓💓
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OMG 😭 thank you so much!!! i am so glad you liked it 🥹 i’ll be honest and say i don’t have any ideas for him atm but he is definitely a character i’ll return to! there will definitely be more geralt in the future lol
and genuinely, thank you so much for taking the time to send this - you’ve made my morning. i’ve said this already but i was so worried that the fic was really not very good, i wasn’t sure if i was writing him well or not, so knowing that you really liked it, and that you’d read more geralt from me, is so nice and so motivating. so thank you sm again 🥹💞🩷✨
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
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Hiiii just wanted to let you know I loved the new piece from the Witcher!!!! 💕💞💗💓🩷💖
ahhh!! thank you so much omg 🥹 and hello! 🥰 let me first just say, you have no idea how happy this ask has made me!!
i was very nervous about posting this fic but i’m glad i did now, knowing people are actually enjoying it lol. 🥲
i appreciate you taking the time to send this and so appreciate you reading and reblogging to begin with! & i am SO happy you liked it! 🥹💞🩷💗✨
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
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sit me on your throne.
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pairing: geralt of rivia x curvy!reader
warnings: i don't know what i'm writing about but if you're here for smut, there's smut. 18+ only. probably ooc - i've only seen season one. if i'm missing something that needs to be tagged please let me know.
words: 4.3k
notes: i really truly do not know. forgive me not.
thank you in advance for reading! any thoughts, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. let me know what you think. (unless its mean then pls don't).
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"You kneel before me?"
Your question is born of nothing but pure confusion as you tilt your head in bemusement at the bulking behemoth of a man before you.
He hadn’t done as much when he first arrived, not to your displeasure, so it was odd to see him do it now - especially after the battle he has just fought.
He is at your feet, his long white hair darker and dingier now, dirty as his clothes and skin; marred with caked mud and what you can only assume is the blood and guts of the beast he has defeated.
The stench he carries with him is pungent, nothing but putrid, and yet that somehow doesn't take from his striking good looks; those paired with his brevity and bluntness have held your attention from the moment he stepped foot in your kingdom.
He is a man of little words, this Geralt of Rivia. His jester of a companion having done much of the speaking - perhaps too much - for him since they arrived.
Geralt says nothing still, only meets your gaze as he takes steady breaths. His yellow eyes, feline and harsh, cut through you in a number of ways - none of which you'd care to share aloud. You have a feeling he knows, however, just how affected you are by him no matter how well you think you hide it.
You are alone together, no guards at the ready, no advisors by your side. Most of your kingdom is now quiet and abandoned, including the halls of your once flourishing and lively home. The halls of this castle have been eerily silent since the night your men went on their mission to save their homestead. You had already sent word for The Witcher, you implored them to keep safe indoors until his arrival. They did not listen. Most of them still having seen you as the young princess you once were, the others simply following the orders of their leaders. You may have been their "Queen", but their faith in their commanders was stronger.
Those commanders who led them to their deaths... You still sigh at the loss.
Those who were not taken, slain, by the beast have long since fled for their lives. You cannot blame them. But you certainly could not join them. Your castle once held many souls, but now it is only you and a handful of others. Titles of servants, but you really never were one for titles.
"Your friend?" you wonder.
"Somewhere," he answers shortly, his voice low and deep as he speaks.
You quirk a brow, "Safe?"
"For as long as he keeps himself from trouble."
You hum, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Their relationship amuses you, you must admit.
"You needn't kneel, Witcher," you implore as you sit back on the throne. It is yours in name alone. It has never felt right to sit in. He seems to sense your unease, but he doesn't speak it. You continue, "You have done what you said you would, I will do the same."
Still, he doesn't stand. Not until you flick your eyes and move to stand yourself. He rises easily as he stands before you still. There is not much distance between you, and the stench of him stings your eyes and threatens to gag you. Your face scrunches in disgust as you turn it away from him, grimacing.
"I've had a bath readied for you, and new clothes set aside," you inform him, moving to pass around. He follows you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes cling to you. "Your meals will be served as soon as you're done. I don't imagine anyone would be able to stomach a bite with that smell coming off of you."
He says nothing but lets out an amused "hm" at your words, still following as you lead him to the bathing room.
You thank Amaleah as you enter and she leaves with a nod to you, her breath catching when she smells Geralt enter behind you. It's as fast an exit as you've ever seen.
You move toward the bath and wade a hand in the water. It's a bit hot for your preferences but it should get him clean. You ensure the soap Amaleah brought in is fragrant enough and still look for some nicer oils to add to the water; when you turn around to ask your guest his want, you find yourself stunned silent as you're met with the sight of his broad, bare chest. His muscles flex under his pale and scarred skin as he moves, his solid chest is covered in dark hair, trailing down his torso. His arms are strong and big and a thought at the back of your mind wonders how comfortable he must be to lie with.
You blink, mouth parted slightly as you take a breath. You watch his clothing fall as he discards them and your gaze follows his hand as he begins to strip himself of the rest of his garments.
He is completely shameless as he watches you watch him. You feel as if you are in a trance, you cannot bring yourself to look away despite the heavy weight of his gaze assuring you he sees you staring.
It’s not an act of brazenness, truly you would look away and leave him at once…if you could.
“I’ve slain your monster,” he speaks and your eyes rise back to his chest, trying to ignore the heaviness of his thick cock as it hangs so temptingly before you. No, not temptingly…Shamelessly. He has put himself entirely on display before you, without an ounce of shame or concern, and you are still frozen to your spot. “Was there something else you required of me, Your Highness?”
The title gets your attention, the breath caught in your chest finally flows and your eyes flick up to meet his. You can't tell entirely if he meant it as an insult or if he thought you'd prefer it to Queen.
You remain quiet for a moment as you try to gather a response. Either way...
“I told you that wasn’t necessary, Witcher.”
“Geralt.”
You swallow hard as he takes a small step forward, and you will yourself to not break his intense gaze.
"Geralt. I thank you, for saving what was left of this ruined kingdom, but I consider myself not princess, nor Queen, any longer."
"Did you ever?" he asks, staring into your eyes a moment longer before he steps closer still, looking you up and down then nudging you aside, eliciting goosebumps along your skin, rising under his touch.
You glance over your shoulder as he continues past you, lowering himself into the tub.
You think.
You know your answer, but you won't say it aloud. Clearly he knows it, too.
You can hear the water sloshing with his movements as he begins to clean himself.
You take a deep breath.
"The clothes will be brought in shortly. You might tell Jaskier when you're done that the food is ready."
"Ah," he says amid his washing, "so you do know his name."
"Of course I do. I've grown quite fond of the bard in the week since you've arrived."
"I couldn't tell," he says plainly, yet still biting - his words sharp with sarcasm.
You furrow your brow at his meaning and then there's a laugh at the door and you look to see Jaskier as he leans on it. "You sound jealous, there, Geralt," he taunts, holding folded clothing in his hands as he pushes off the door to saunter in. "I wouldn't worry. I don't believe I'm the one who's caught her eye." He looks to you with a smirk, bowing before you, "Your Majesty."
"I am no longer queen," you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.
"My Queen, none the less," he simpers before standing to his full height.
You smile tightly, eyes narrowed playfully at him before you finally move to exit, leaving them to their inevitable quarreling. And trying not to focus on the tingling still affecting you between your legs.
--
You eat with the women in the kitchen; the dining hall one of your least favorite places to be.
There is a calm yet solemn energy around you all. A peace in the slaying of the monster who took your kingdom, and still the grief from the loss of it all, your people, their families, friends...
Calliope readies the plates for your guests as you bid them all a goodnight, kissing Amaleah's son on his head on your way out with a 'sweet dreams'. Since his father was killed, the poor thing has nightmares recurringly. You only hope with the monster's demise, they might ease for him some. He is far too young to be in such pain...
You think to pass by the dining hall on your way to bed to thank Geralt once more and wish them both a goodnight as well but think better of it.
You will see them in the morning before they set off. You still owe him his coin and you know he won't be leaving without it.
--
You open the heavy door of your chamber and once you are inside, begin to undress.
Slipping into your shift, you swiftly make your way into bed. You thought you'd fall asleep quickly, but as you lay there, your mind wanders to thoughts of only one.
You have one hand on your lower belly, the other resting on the soft skin right above it.
You sigh and close your eyes, but all you see when you do is his built form. His dark, firelight stare set on you. His clothes left on the ground as he stands strong in his glory.
You breathe deeply, your hand starting to slowly drift down your stomach as you tickle yourself. You're so tempted to touch where you want it most, but you can't bring yourself to do it. Not just yet.
You slip your hand between your spread thighs, softly running your fingers across the sensitive skin you find there.
It'd been a week of torment, having Geralt so close and not being able to act on your most base feelings. You know he knows what you think when you look at him, if Jaskier can see it, surely, he can too.
You might feel embarrassed but with the way he's managed to get closer and closer to you with each passing day as he awaited the beasts' return, you would wager he feels similarly.
It feels like an age that you lie awake. All the noises about the castle, not that there were many, have settled and it assures you everyone has retired for the night.
Sleep begins to nip at you but the stronger pull is to the dissatisfaction that weighs on you. The emptiness that echos through your body and soul.
Your fingers twitch, and you begin to glide closer to your uncovered core, the need to be touch too much to be ignored for much longer. Your eyes are closed and you imagine it isn't your hand running over your skin, but rather his large, rough palm feeling you, teasing you just so...
Just as you inch closer, your eyes snap open in the dark as a heartbreaking scream cuts through the night air. You sit up, pulling your hands off of yourself. You know immediately where the sound comes from and who it belongs to.
You get out of bed, intent to make sure Hartley and Amaleah both are okay.
You open your door just as the one across the wide hall does the same. You frighten at the unexpected movement but are then unsurprised to be across Geralt.
He is shirtless again, and his eyes are wide as his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths.
"Are you alright?" he asks, voice hard.
"Yes, I'm fine. It was the boy, Hartley. He has nightmares," you explain, keeping your voice quiet as to not disturb the renewed peace of the night.
The flick of the flame that lights the hallway allows you both to see one another. You say nothing for a moment as your eyes fall to his bare torso.
"Did the clothes not fit?"
He looks down at himself briefly, then back to you. He shakes his head, "I prefer to sleep naked."
You burn at his words, swallowing hard. "Oh. Well, I- I'm going to check on them, make sure they're fine."
"I'll go with you."
It's not a question, it's a statement. You stop in your start, turning to look at him. You say nothing, just blink and quickly carry on as you were.
You make your way down the stairs and down the hall until you see the flames licking at the end of the hallway.
You follow the glow to Amaleah's room and knock gently as you look in the open door.
She turns and looks to you, her eyes tired and cheeks damp as she rocks her toddler in her arms. He is sleeping again as she rubs his back gently, more to soothe herself than anything.
She sniffles, "Your High-" she stops herself, "sorry, forgive me," she whispers.
"Don't apologize. Please," you implore her. "I know it's habit."
"Are you two alright?" Geralt asks from right at your back.
"We are, thank you. Just another nightmare," her voice gets thick at the explanation. You know it hurts her that there isn't anything she can do but be there to comfort him when they come.
You smile sadly and nod. "We'll let you be, then. Do try to get some rest. He'll be okay," you reassure her.
You pull the door nearly closed and wind up with Geralt firmly at your back.
You turn into him but he doesn't seem to mind as he just looks down at you nearly pressed against his chest. You try to budge him to turn and move back down the hall but he doesn't waver. After a second, he relents and steps to the side, allowing you to go back down the hallway first.
It isn't until you come up on the throne room that Geralt speaks again.
"Might I have a word with you?" he asks.
You stop and turn to eye him as he stands at the entryway of the door.
"Now?" you question.
He nods once, "Now."
You approach him trepidatiously, and as you near, he gestures you in the room before him, extending his arm, "Princess."
Your eyes narrow again. And you turn on him, watching as he enters the room behind you. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"What am I doing?"
"Princess? Your Highness?" you quote him.
"I assumed you preferred it to your true title," he tilts his head at you.
"True title," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "I prefer no title at all."
"And what shall I call you then?"
You remind him your name, not that he really needs to be reminded. You know he knows it full well.
He considers you, then closes in on where you stand in front of the throne.
You don't move back, no, you quite like the closeness when he doesn't reek of death and innards.
Geralt seems to appreciate your resolve, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile as he studies your face.
"It's a beautiful name," he speaks lowly, taking another step into your space and raising his hand to gently caress your cheek before he leans in to speak against your ear. Your hands touch his solid stomach in an attempt to keep yourself upright, you can feel the muscles as they flex under your delicate graze. "I think I might prefer princess," he husks.
He slips away from you, turning to take a seat on the throne instead. You follow his movements and turn yourself to face him. You're stunned and completely set ablaze all at once.
"Well I don't."
"No," he smirks, agreeing with you, one large hand settling on his thick thigh as he spreads his legs, "you don't."
"It's too bad," he tsks, his voice a smooth rumbling. "No title, no throne."
"I don't want any throne."
Your eyes are glued to his thighs as he brings attention to his lap by rubbing the muscle there.
"None?" he asks before his gaze shifts directly on you, his mesmerizing stare burning into you. His voice lowers deeper than you've ever heard as a desperate longing shoots through you once again, resounding deep in your core. "Not even mine?"
Your mouth goes dry and your brain fuzzy as you take in his meaning.
Unthinking, you step toward him closer.
"You mean to defile the very one you sit on?"
"You don't seem to care for it much anyway."
Another step.
You are nearly stood between his spread legs, carefully you reach out a hand, your fingers light on his thigh. You feel his muscle then, flicking your eyes up. His gaze is dark and heated.
"That's true enough," you say, your voice breathy in a near whisper.
You gasp as your suddenly pulled closer by Geralt's rough hands around your waist. You can feel him through the thin fabric of your shift and its only then you realize how much of your figure he has seen thanks to your nightwear.
"Truer still," he speaks, "I don't mean to defile this throne." He squeezes your plush waist, groping you through your shift as your hands latch onto his solid shoulders. "I mean to defile you."
He manages to pull you onto his lap with little effort, leaning in to crash his lips into yours.
You kiss him back hungrily, chasing his lips as you settle on his lap. Your fingers wind in his hair and you can feel his cock growing beneath you through the material of his pants.
His hands slide down your waist and over your wide hips, reaching for the hem of your shift and pulling it up. His tongue slips past your lips and you moan, shifting your hips atop him.
You pull away, reaching for your dress and pulling it over your head, discarding it behind your back.
Geralt holds you closer, letting his lips explore your heavy breasts as you allow your head to fall back in pleasure, your hands returning to his hair.
"Geralt," you breathe, pulling him off you after a moment.
"Mm," he hums, kissing the swell of your breast once more before he moves to free himself from the restraint of his pants. He knows what you’ve both been wanting for days. What you need.
One heavy hand returns to your back, holding you by your waist while his other grips his red, throbbing cock.
He moves his tip up and down your slick center, making you whimper as he teases you - his cockhead rubbing delightfully against your sensitive clit.
He watches your face scrunch in rapture and holds you tighter to stop your wiggling about as you whimper.
He smiles smugly to himself and when you're just about to open your mouth to protest his teasing, he finally pulls you down on top of him. The sound that escapes you is music to his ears as you grasp onto him, your nails digging into the muscle of his back as your walls squeeze and stretch to accommodate his thick length, the size of him almost too much for you to take.
"Fuck," he groans as your walls tighten around him. He gives you a moment before he begins to urge you to move. He guides your hips, slow and sensually. The feeling of his hands on you motivates you to try and ride him yourself. And you do try, but you cry out again at how big he is, how fully he is stuffing you. You can barely move.
Geralt kisses you as he holds you closer, taking pity on your tight cunt and instead he moves his hands to your soft hips again. He holds you on top of him securely before he begins to fuck up into you.
You mewl as he jostles you, bouncing you up and down his cock, your breasts moving in time.
You pull on his hair, forcing him to look up from where his gaze was fixed, watching his own cock as he stretched you out for him, watching as your cunt took as much of him in as she could, up to your hooded lust filled gaze. You lean into him, chest to chest as you kiss him fervently. His lips follow yours as you taste one another. You nip at his lip and he growls, his hands gripping the ample flesh of your ass, "Keep that up," he snarls.
"And you'll what?" you breathe heavily, eyes screwed shut, jaw tight as you deadbrain on the pleasure coursing through you.
Your answer is a harsh thrust of his cock inside of you, stealing your breath while he slaps your ass, your flesh stinging from the force.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper debauchedly, your velvety walls squeezing him ever tighter as you feel yourself growing closer with every bounce. The tip of him hitting exactly where you need it to. Your body is on fire and you are loving every second of it. The feeling of him inside of you, of his hands squeezing and caressing you everywhere he can, of his lips demanding yours for more.
His grunts are growing louder and his thrusts more powerful, you kiss him hard in an effort to quiet him some, but you can feel what is coming.
Geralt is near slamming you down on top of him, the sound of your ass slapping against his thick thighs mix with the salacious sounds coming from you both and of your slick wetness as you're worked up and down his shaft, your cunt taking him better and better with each thrust.
Your hands move to hold his face, your noses brush as you breathe each other's air, lips touching just slightly.
"Geralt, I'm,"
"I know," he pants harshly, concentrated before taking your lips in his. You whimper pathetically as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. He keeps you moving a top him, your clit being stimulated with every brush of your hips over his, and then with another deep thrust it snaps before you can speak. Your voice is an empty high then silent squeak as your legs tremble and your eyes roll back. Are you even breathing? Your walls clench down on Geralt's cock and he finally allows himself to reach his own high as your tight walls flutter around him, squeezing him perfectly. You ride the waves of ecstasy as his come spills inside of you. You feel him shudder beneath you and it only adds to your feeling of weightlessness, stars in your eyes as you feel, think, breathe nothing but him.
You part from his lips and your bodies are slick with sweat as you both pant heavily. Geralt holds you to him as he softens inside of you, his forehead pressed to yours as your hand comes behind his neck, holding him to you in kind.
Your lips mimic a kiss but neither of you lean in close enough to actually do it. You work to catch your breath and settle for a minute before you finally break the quiet.
"Do I still owe you your coin?" you breathe, smiling when Geralt laughs in your face. You reach to move a stray strand of hair from his face, holding his cheek gently once you do.
Your stare into one another's eyes for a long moment, just breathing and being close.
"Where will you be off to in the morning?" you ask, hoping your solemn tone isn't as audible as it sounded to you.
"Don't know," he shakes his head, eyes straying to your lips.
You take a breath and pull his face closer to kiss him softly.
"I envy you, you know."
"Don't."
You huff a humorless laugh, readjusting yourself on his lap. "Not because you're a witcher. You may not have the most enviable life, but at least you have one. I've never made it past the most exterior gates," you smile sadly, playing with the hairs on his chest as you avoid his eye now.
"I suppose I'll have the chance, now, though. Thanks to you."
"And where will you go?" he asks.
Your gaze floats up to his and you repeat his previous answer. "I don't know. But I won't stay here. This kingdom is..." you shake your head. "I don't belong here. Never felt like I did. But I made a promise to my mother when I was young, and another to my father before he passed. I know I've let them down," you swallow the rise of emotion threatening to overcome you, "but alas, the fall of a kingdom is ever inevitable. Especially under such rule as my own."
"I've heard word of your rule from many. You're known to be kind. Caring. Protective, even. I don't believe you've failed. I think you were exactly the kind of ruler you should have been, who you needed to be. But perhaps it's a good thing you won't be forced any longer into holding power you don't desire. You're now free to do as you wish."
"I am," you nod lightly in agreement. "If only I knew where to start,” you muse with an uneasy laugh.
His hand runs up your back comfortingly; he's pensive, deep in thought for a long moment before he speaks.
"If you ready your things, I don't think Roach would mind a travel companion of her own. She seems to have taken to Belfast… I'm not sure she'd be ready to part with him so soon, anyway."
"Is that so?" you ask him, faux curiosity playing in your voice.
"And Jaskier is easier to take when I'm not the only one he has around to bother."
"Right," you nod, fighting your soft smile.
"And of course your coin would be useful as well."
"Of course," you exaggerate your agreement. "…Geralt, are you getting at something here?"
"Just that, if you want to join us…you might."
You lean into him again, thumb rubbing along his stubble lining his cheek, and this time he kisses you first. More gently than you expect. You can’t help your smile now.
You part lightly and breathe,
"I hope you mean that, Witcher. Because I just might."
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2K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 4 months
Text
call it what you want series masterlist
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pairing: neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. friends to lovers. fluffy, smutty, and a bit angsty here and there.
updated: january 14th, 2024
call it what you want to
when plans fall through
so inviting, i almost jump in.
it’s a love story, baby, just say yes.
1K notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 4 months
Text
so inviting, i almost jump in.
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pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.
words: 4.5k
notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.
also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞
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"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.
You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.
"Before you say anything-"
"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.
"Doll,"
"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.
"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."
Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.
"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."
"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"
You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.
"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.
"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"
"Mhm...maybe," you say.
"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.
"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.
You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.
You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.
But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...
A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.
Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.
That was an immediate 'no thank you'.
You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.
--
The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.
You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.
You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.
There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.
"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.
"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.
"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"
"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"
He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.
"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.
You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.
"You have to come over."
"No, I really don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You're staying."
"No, I'm not."
"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.
"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I lied."
"Huh? To me? About what?"
"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."
"Another lie?"
"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.
"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.
"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.
Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.
"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.
"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.
"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.
"You had only asked me to be your fake date."
"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."
"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.
"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.
--
More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.
And it's surprising how normal it all feels.
You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!
Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.
You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.
You were here.
With Bucky.
So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.
The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.
"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."
You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.
Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.
This is easy for him because it means nothing.
This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.
Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...
You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.
"Oo, countdown is going!"
The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.
You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.
You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.
As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.
Two.
He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.
One.
"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.
"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.
His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…
You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.
You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.
You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.
The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.
"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.
You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.
There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.
Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.
You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.
The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...
He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?
Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.
You look at yourself once more in the mirror.
Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.
You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.
You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.
"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.
"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.
"I'm sorry. About kissing you."
"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.
His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.
He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.
You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.
He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.
You walk back out into the living room as he follows.
"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"
"... I guess not."
"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."
He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"
"What are friends for if not clean up?"
He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.
He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.
"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."
"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."
"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."
"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."
"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"
Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."
"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.
Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.
Other things, of course, being you.
When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.
He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...
Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.
Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.
"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.
"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"
"If you don't ask, you'll never know."
He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.
But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?
"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.
Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.
It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...
You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.
You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.
You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.
"I guess I'll head out, then."
"Oh," he breathes.
"Oh?"
"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."
"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.
Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.
"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."
"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.
"What's your resolution?" he asks.
"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."
"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."
"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.
"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.
You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.
"And you?"
Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.
"I…would like to communicate better."
You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."
"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.
"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.
"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."
You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.
It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.
"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."
"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.
"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.
Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.
"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.
You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.
Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.
"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.
He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.
"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.
It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.
You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
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diana!!! you’re gonna make me cry 🥹 i genuinely feel the same way! i think about you, too. you’re one of the few mutuals who has been around since pretty much the beginning of my writing journey and i’m so thankful for you. i always get so happy to see you in my notifications or on the dash. of course life happens! but still it’s always nice to see when you pop in now and again 🥰
and omg, hearing that you think of my work or any of our exchanges and smile is so amazing 😭 you truly are so dear to me, i love you!!! ❤️
and i wish the very same for you. you deserve all the best, too! i hope the new year is nothing but joyous and bright for you.
your words have made my night, and made my heart so full. 🥹 you’re the absolute best and i’m so grateful to have met you here on this silly website through my silly fics about these gorgeous men hahaha! sending so much love to you, always! 🩷🩷🩷
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i know i don’t talk to literally any of you (my problem not yours) but i hope you all know that i genuinely care about each and every one of you. i wish i was better at forming friendships but i’m just not. despite that though, i still consider you my friends. friends i don’t talk to often or even at all in most cases lol but friends nonetheless. i’m really grateful to be part of this tumblr community in any capacity, and so grateful to everyone who chooses to stick around and allows me to be some part of theirs.
i love all of you. 💞
merry christmas to those who celebrate! and to those who don’t, i hope you have a wonderful day.
it’s supposed to rain here all day, and i’m alone as ever. but i’m comfy and cozy inside my apartment and am happy to feel just a little less lonely as i scroll through my dash.
six more days and we will have made it through december. may the new year bring you new joy, new love, new creative sparks, and new hope. everything’s gonna work out right. i know it. 💗
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
Text
darling, it's cold outside.
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pairing: charles blackwood x curvy!reader
words: 2.7k
warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. not foot fetish stuff but he does remove her heels for her? lol. pining. little bit of holiday blues mentioned but overall this is pretty fluffy. maybe like the littlest bit soft!dark if you squint.
notes: very happy to be writing for charles again, i've missed him. 🥹
inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated. ❣️
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"Mr. Blackwood," you call out as you walk down the empty hallway, your heels clacking on the marble flooring as you go, "I remade the guest bedroom like you asked. If there's nothing else for tonight, I was going to be heading home?"
You look into his open office as you pass, he's not there. Curious...
You continue down the hall, peeking into the study, then the tea room, and then the living room - none of which held him. The television in the living room was on, however, so you assumed he must be close by. But where?
Normally you find it difficult to get more than a few minutes alone from him when you're working, but now the man of the house is as elusive as your holiday spirit seems to be this year.
The pitter patter of the rain outside the castle captures your attention as you pass the grand window.
"Oh no," you sigh as you peer out into the dreary scene. The Christmas lights strung up outside appear blurry through the rain droplets on the glass as the sky grows darker with each moment that passes.
You were supposed to be out of here by 3pm, but Charles, for the first time since you'd started working for him, had many a qualm about your cleaning and tidyings today. You had to go over the bathrooms twice and were instructed to remake his bed before reattending to the guest room. It was nearing 5:30 now, and the rain you were hoping to avoid has clearly already begun - and if the weatherman was correct - would be staying long through the night.
It's not a terribly long walk home, but in your uniform, having to walk home in the rain is a less than ideal situation.
But you resign yourself to your fate as you turn from the window and continue on your search for your boss.
"Mr. Blackwood," you call again, "I'm about to be heading home."
As you finish your sentence, crossing in front of the lavish cranberry colored couch, you notice the throw blanket you had folded and put away earlier is now adorning the cushions. You think to check by the linen closet on the other side of the staircase - hoping to find him somewhere over there so he may dismiss you for the night.
You are about to leave the room when suddenly you hear the kettle whistle sharply from the kitchen. Your brows knit together as you stop in your tracks and turn back around to go toward the kitchen instead.
The sound of your heels as you walk informs Charles of your presence as you enter the room. He turns from the stove, having just moved the kettle from one burner to the other, and looks surprised to see you.
"Oh," he said, nonplussed, "you're still here?" His brow was raised as he looked at you.
You felt stumped yourself, standing blankly for a moment before blinking away your confusion. "Yes, I- I just finished remaking the guest bedroom like you asked," you stammered just slightly.
"Oh, perfect. Thank you. You really are an angel, you know that?" he praised, smiling that ever charming smile at you.
You couldn't help but return one of your own, eyes flicking down almost immediately, unable to hold his gaze.
You sucked in a breath, schooling your face as you looked back up. "Did you want to check it over?"
"No," he brushed off with a shake of his head, turning back to open the cabinet behind him, "I'm sure everything is in order. I trust you."
Your lips twitch as you hold back a disbelieving laugh. He seemed so concerned earlier...
"Alright. Well, if that's everything, Mr. Blackwood-"
"Charles," he corrects.
"...Charles," you amend, "if that was all, I was planning on heading out for the night."
"Of course," he agrees, turning to face you once again, with two mugs in his hands. "Do you have time for some hot chocolate, or will your ride be here soon?"
"Oh, I don't have a ride," you hide a grimace at the reminder of your lonesomeness. Well...maybe you could call a cab? But no, that short ride would just feel like a waste of your hard earned money. And anyway, Charles knows you walk to and from. He's chided you on it before. You'll never forget the way you warmed at his concern for you that first time. He had offered you a ride home, but you refused. It was a clear evening and there really was no reason for any fuss. But of course, his worry still made your heart flutter.
The mugs clink as they're set down on the counter, the sound brining you back to the room. "Sweetheart, it's raining. Supposed to only pick up, too. If you were planning on walking, I don't think that'd be a good idea."
The pet name has butterflies taking flight in your tummy as you work to tamp them down.
"It's not that far of a walk, I'm sure I'll be fine."
"I must insist that you stay," he presses, your name sounding so nicely on his tongue. "Please. I would offer you a ride myself but I'm afraid my headlight blew out, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. The guest room would be yours and I could drive you home in the morning. Or, if you insist, the weather should be fairer by then - enough to walk if you really want."
"Oh, really, I would hate to inconvenience you, sir."
"Not at all," he assures you as he prepares both mugs of coco. "In fact, I think it'd be nice to have some company for the holiday. In a house this big, being alone can feel rather lonely."
You consider his words and can't help but agree. "It can feel much the same in a small home, too," you say with a bittersweet smile. "If you really don't mind, I'd be thankful to stay."
"And I'd be thankful for the company," he smiles back. "I was about to start a movie."
You trail behind him slowly as he leads the way back to the living room. When you get to the couch, he sets both mugs down on the coffee table as he gestures for you to sit.
"Please, get comfortable. You've been on your feet all day."
You don't argue and take your seat. The couch is as comfortable as it always looks and you can't help but sigh as you relish the feeling. You almost instinctively kick off your heels, but stop yourself right in time. Charles notices the twitch of your feet, however.
You hold in a gasp as he kneels down before you and takes hold of your foot. His eyes flash up to yours as you stare down at him, lips parted and breath stalled. He slips your heel off and squeezes your foot lightly before repeating the same to your other foot. No words are exchanged as he pops back up and walks to the television. He pushes a tape into the player before sauntering back over to you.
You want to lift a leg up underneath you but don't allow yourself to, especially not while you're in this skirt. Charles takes the spot beside you and you somehow go even more rigid at his proximity.
"I said get comfortable, darling," he chides, pulling you in closer to him, "I meant it."
You allow yourself to fall into his side, and then after a long second, slowly bring a leg up to get more comfortable beside him. Another long moment, and you bring your other leg up as well, repositioning yourself while you shimmy the littlest bit closer.
Charles is warm and the room is a bit cold, so you don't mind how close he actually is. Maybe more aptly, how close you are to him...
You try to focus on the opening scene of the holiday movie you've only heard of before, never actually having had the chance to see it. But as Charles leans over and grabs the throw he'd brought out earlier, he takes over your focus once again. He drapes the blanket over both of you before settling back, essentially right against you now.
Your heart is beating so loud, you're almost sure he can hear it if he listens close enough.
Charles wraps his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively scoot closer still, letting your head rest on his chest trepidatiously. He hums his approval as you do.
"Is this okay?" he asks quietly, keeping the cozy and comfortable ambience in tact.
You're quiet, unsure of what to say. Does it feel okay? It feels like everything you've dreamed of since meeting the man. But is it okay? That you're not so sure of. Are you crossing a line? Is this a mistake?... Oh god, what are you doing? You can't lose this job!
You push yourself to sit up, pulling away from Charles as he looks at you, stunned by your haste.
"I- I'm so sorry, Mr. Blackwood. I don't know what's come over me. I should, I should go," you rush your words as you try to stand.
Try.
Charles' hand is on you in an instant, keeping you in place. You look at him with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. He says your name and you don't think to try and get up again.
"Darling, I don't know what you're apologizing for. If I've made you uncomfortable, I should be apologizing to you," he says. "...Have I? Made you uncomfortable?"
You stare into the hypnotic gaze of his cerulean blue eyes, taking in his words. It's a moment before you softly shake your head. "No," you nearly whisper. "No, you haven't." He nods, admiring your face as you peer at him.
"That's good. And, it's Ch-"
"Charles," you cut him off. "I know. Habit," you shrug lightly.
"One you'll hopefully come to break," he smirks. "So, back to my question," he pulls you closer, "Was that okay? Being that close to me?"
You nod meekly, "Yes."
"And was it okay that I put my arm around you?"
Another weak murmur as you unconsciously lean into him, "Yes."
"And just to be sure," he breathes, leaning closer into you in return, "do you really want to leave?"
Your breath catches in your throat as you shake your head. "No."
"One last question," he says as he brings a hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately as he urges you closer. You're nose to nose as he continues, "Would it be okay if I kissed you now?"
You smile softly, your lips brush his as you answer him. "Yes," you nod.
He pulls you in gently and your hand holds his to your face as he finally kisses you, so softly you swear you could melt into the cushions.
You murmur again into the kiss as your eyelids flutter shut. Without thinking, you deepen the kiss. You find your body moving without your permission as you pull yourself more into him - almost crawling along the cushions to get closer to him.
Charles doesn't stop you, in fact, he leans back further - pulling you along the way, moving you up his lap.
Your skirt stretches across your thick thighs as you are maneuvered by him onto his lap. You straddle him as his arms come around you, pulling you to be flush against him - his lips never stopping as he kisses you so completely, so passionately. The intensity only grows more fervent as you return the desire in kind.
You mindlessly move your hips against his and he moans at the feeling. The sound of his pleasure is music to your ears and serves to get you even more worked up. You can feel the slickness as it grows between your thighs. And as you rock your hips again, you can feel Charles' excitement, too.
He is hard beneath you, his erection growing more and more prominent with each second.
"Mhm," you mewl against his lips, breaking for a breath, "Charles," you sigh - rocking once more. The friction sending a wave of sparking pleasure through you.
"Does that feel good for you, angel?" he asks, hands grabbing your hips.
You nod helplessly, "Feels so good."
He kisses you again, harder this time as he holds you in place on his lap. "I know what would feel even better," he says huskily.
He reaches for the button of his slacks and you bite your lip, a few nerves building now. You pull away from him ever so slightly as he begins to undo his pants.
"Um, Charles," you nearly whisper, waiting for a response you don't get.
You watch with heavy lidded eyes and parted, pouted lips as he pulls his straining cock from his briefs. You almost feel frozen for a second before one of his hands comes up and buries itself between your thighs. You yelp, squeaking at the touch.
"Charles, I don't know if we should-"
"Oh, sweetheart, don't worry," he hushes you. You gasp with a tremble and a light moan as his deft fingers slide up and along your clothed sex. You tilt your hips as he feels along your cunt and don't stop him when he moves your underwear to the side.
His eyes are trained on your face, he watches as it contorts with the beginning sparks of your pleasure under his touch. His dick is throbbing, on the verge of starting to leak for you.
He can't wait any longer, he's waited so long already. He needs to have you around him. Needs to feel your warmth envelope him and your weight as you sit on him. He doesn't even need to go all the way with you - not tonight. He just wants to feel you.
His tongue slips past his pillowy lips as he grips himself with one hand, guiding his red tip to your tight, slick entrance. He presses against you but you slightly back away - still unsure.
"I just want to feel you, angel. That's all. I promise. Just need you to sit down and that'll be it. Just sit right here and keep me warm for a bit. You can do that, can't you, darling?"
A sigh of relief escapes you as you slacken a bit into him. You can do that, you decide. You nod your head and bring one of your hands to his shoulders. He presses against you again and this time you move into him. You whine at the sting of his intrusion as he helps ease you down onto his length a little at a time. When you are fully seated, you drop your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands rubs your back.
"Fuck, doesn't that feel nice?" he asks, voice breathy. You only nod against him as your walls stretch around his cock, squeezing him every so often.
"Yes," you huff, "Oh, it feels so nice, Charles."
He pulls you from his neck, brushing his nose against yours as he brings you face to face with him again.
"I knew we'd be a perfect fit," he smirks, kissing you hotly as you press yourself closer to him, returning his kiss.
"I said the guest room was yours, but there's room enough for two in my bed if you'd rather," he simpers.
"I think I just might rather," you whisper with a smile against his lips. You move to sit up but are immediately pulled back down onto his cock. You moan deeply at the movement, the drag of his length along your walls and the way your walls work to keep him inside of you. To be fair, you aren't the most experienced woman in the world, but the feeling of him is unlike anything you've ever felt before. You are entirely full of him and you fear you won't want to ever go empty again.
"Not just yet, sweetheart," he laughs, holding you down. "We aren't even halfway through the movie yet. And we have all night before we take this upstairs, angel. I want to make sure this is a Christmas we'll always remember."
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
Text
all i want
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pairing: andy barber x curvy!reader
words: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. little tiny bit of teasing. liiiittle bit of a daddy kink.
notes: shockingly enough, this was meant to be a drabble. it very much is not. enjoy!
inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments and welcome and so appreciated.
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It’s all perfectly innocent to start the night, really it is. Your yearly tradition of watching Miracle on 34th Street after trimming the tree is one that neither of you would want to skip out on. And so far this season, between the trial that has had Andy so stressed and your long shifts at the hospital, there has been quite a bit you’ve ended up skipping.
You paid to have the Christmas lights strung up instead of decorating yourselves, the Christmas tree this year came from the grocery store parking lot Andy passed on his way home yesterday instead of the tree farm you always went to to chop down your own, and your annual Christmas Eve party is a no go this year, too. You’re both too busy, too stressed, too tired.
Andy sits on the couch, getting the movie ready to play, while you’re in the kitchen. You slide the bowl of cookie dough you whipped up into the fridge to chill for an hour or two before baking right as the kettle begins to whistle.
You walk back over to the stove, moving it off the burner before carefully pouring the boiling water into the waiting mugs of coco powder.
“Andy, do you want marshmallows?” you call, knowing your voice will carry into the next room. You stir the powder as you wait for his response, plopping a few mini marshmallows into your mug before your face scrunches up a bit. You turn, ready to peek into the living room to repeat yourself, and jump a bit as you’re met with Andy leaning in the doorway.
His arms are crossed over his chest and you are momentarily distracted by how big his arms look in his sweater. You know it’s soft and you can’t wait to cuddle into him and finally have a chance to relax while you watch the movie.
Your eyes flit to his and then you finally see the look of incredulity on his handsome, bearded face. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he speaks before you can.
“Did you just call me Andy?” he asked, sounding disgusted and a little distraught.
You gape a moment, thinking back to what it was you said, and almost immediately realize that you indeed did. You flounder for only a second before shaking your head, “No,” you lie, “I dont think so.”
“Yes,” he states, pushing off the doorframe and starting toward you, “you did.”
You back up, bumping into the counter behind you as he stalks closer. You fight your smile as a thrill runs through you when he cages you in, his arms either side of you as he stands right before you. He leaves almost no space between you and you can see in his eyes what you’re sure he can see in yours.
Longing, desire, and maybe just a hint of desperation…
It’s been two weeks since you have had anything close to alone time together. Your shifts have been all over the place and you’re either heading to work as Andy is coming home, or leaving just as he gets up to start getting ready for his day. Even your weekends have been taken over. Andy has been working nonstop, but you both promised each other that this weekend would be just for you two. No work, no parties, no distractions. The closest thing to intimate you’ve gotten in two weeks has been your parting kisses. You’ve only shared the bed a few days this past week and you’ve both been so exhausted that the furthest you’ve gotten has been cuddling.
So right here and now, that look in his eyes, you know you’re both thinking about the same thing.
“I’m sorry,” you offer in your attempt to appease him.
“You’re sorry …,” he prompts, waiting for you to address him.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you press against him, a smile playing on your lips. “Babe…honey…love,” you continue with the pet names, your fingers dancing across his sweater clad chest before you lean in real close, your lips against his ear before you whisper breathily, “Daddy.”
The sharp breath he takes at the title has you biting your lip to stop the smirk threatening to break out.
You let a hand come up, squeezing the back of his neck gently before your fingers find his hair, almost playing with it as you massage his neck a bit. Andy drops his head as his eyes close under your touch, pressing you back against the counter as he leans into you. He lets out a heavy sigh as your other hand comes up to cup his cheek.
“You’re so tense,” you say, leaning in to kiss him softly. He returns the kiss, his arms coming closer and wrapping around you, pulling you flush to him.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against your lips, your noses brushing.
“I’ve missed you, too,” you kiss him gently once more before letting him go, turning back around to the mugs of coco waiting for you.
Andy doesn’t let you go, just watches as you finish making the cups.
You lean your head back, “marshmallows?” you ask again, earning a smile and a nod from him.
-
The still warm mugs of hot chocolate are on the coffee table before you as you snuggle into Andy.
That tingle you got earlier in the kitchen still hasn’t gone away as you hug Andy, his arm holding you to him in turn.
You don’t want to force anything. You’re both tired, that’s obvious, but god, you miss him. All of him.
You don’t even really want to have sex right now, you just want to be closer. You need him closer.
His eyes are open but you can see the exhaustion in the slightest squint of his eyes as he watches the screen. You lean up, pressing your lips delicately against his exposed throat, once, twice, three times as you work your way up.
“Mmm,” he breathes deeply, holding back a moan under your attention. “Baby,” he warns.
“I know,” you say, a hand rising to stroke his hair as you sit up and move into his lap. “I know, I’m tired, too. We don’t have to do anything,” you let your head rest against his, your noses brushing once more, “I just… I just want to feel you,” you speak so quietly but he can hear the plea in your voice and it squeezes his chest. And he can’t lie and say that the desperation he hears isn’t turning him on a bit, either.
If you want to feel him, he’ll make sure you feel him.
Your hands are lightly in his hair, holding his head as you lean in to kiss him. One kiss, you breathe into him as you pause against each others lips, then another, and another, before your tongue licks into his mouth. He sucks on you lightly before his tongue takes over, his effortless dominance always winning out.
You can feel him growing beneath you and you feel yourself growing slicker in turn.
You pull away from his kiss reluctantly to stand and rid yourself of your pajama pants, while he drags his sweats down. His cock is hard and you inhale sharply at the sight. It’s only been two weeks but you’d almost forgotten just how big he really is.
You hold his shoulder, his hands coming to your chubby waist as you come back to your spot on his lap. You’re on your knees, straddling him as you position yourself above him. One of his hands comes to his cock, the other sliding down your curves as he grips your hip.
He moves his dick up and down your pussy, playing with your wetness as your eyes shut in delight at the feeling, your hands squeezing his shoulders.
He gets himself wet with your slick before he lines the head of his cock up to your entrance. His hand on your hip urges you down, and you slowly sink onto his thick length. You moan in unison as you take him in, a “fuck” leaving Andy’s lips when the first inch of him was finally inside of you.
His hand is holding you, his thumb rubbing the soft, blemished skin of your hip as he urges you to take more of him with his sweet praises.
“You take me so well, baby. Just a little bit more, I know you can do it. Doing so good, sweetheart. Always so fucking good,” he full on moans the last few words as you sit fully on his strong lap with a whimper. He’s seated completely inside of you as you bury your head in his neck.
You feel his lips as he kisses your head, his hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other lightly kneads your thick thigh.
You sigh heavily, relaxing into him as you rest your head against his chest, your velvety walls squeezing his cock of their own volition every so often, earning moans from both of you as he keeps you full of him, the movie still playing as you try to focus on that instead.
But you’re so tired, and so content in Andy’s hold, the pleasure and closeness enough to lull you asleep, you do just that. The cookies can wait until tomorrow.
Andy is smiling to himself as he holds you, he hasn’t been this relaxed since before the start of his current trial. Because with you this close, he’s calm and more than content. This is what he’s been needing. You.
He tenses just a little when your walls squeeze him again, a soft moan slipping past your lips. He moans quietly in turn, still holding you tight.
A moment passes and he has to laugh at the soft snore that leaves you next. He doesn’t want to leave your warmth just yet, he wants to feel you - it’s been too long. So he’ll finish the movie and then he’ll bring you to bed. You’ll cuddle and sleep in each other’s embrace, and all the while he’ll be sure to keep you full of him.
And when you wake up in the middle of the night with his cock still inside of you, your wetness leaking out from around his thick length, he won’t mind one bit about getting woken up by you fucking yourself stupid on his cock. He’s all yours, whenever you want him. And he still owes you for your teasing in the kitchen. He’ll make sure to show you exactly just how much Daddy has missed you.
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nickfowlerrr · 5 months
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guiding light
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pairing: bucky barnes x reader
words: 222
notes: ‘tis the season. in a bit of a writing slump still, but something has to give.
“I don’t know how to explain it, I just have this feeling. Like, like there’s someone out there... like someone’s watching me.”
There’s a long pause on the other end and you brace yourself for their response, to be told that it’s all in your head. But that’s not what you get.
“…Do you think it’s him?”
You take a sharp inhale as a shudder rolls over you, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself as you stare out the window - past the light post, into the shadows. Trying to peer deeper into the darkened woods surrounding you. Just maybe you’ll find a pair of ice blue eyes staring back.
You burn at the thought.
You clutch the phone, readjusting your hold on the receiver before responding, but you don’t get the chance to answer their question as the line suddenly cuts out.
Your breath freezes in your chest as your eyes quickly shift, scanning all around. You force a breath and slowly hang up the phone. All the lights are still on, and your music continues playing softly from the old record player. His record player.
The melodic voice of Bing Crosby is the only thing to be heard,
“Christmas Eve will find me
where the love light gleams.
I’ll be home for Christmas
if only in my dreams,”
…and then a creak.
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nickfowlerrr · 5 months
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just gonna reblog this again…
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(original tags)
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(tonight’s added tags)
sorry…you guys know what acting is, right?
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nickfowlerrr · 6 months
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everybody talks
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pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!
words: almost 7.7k
notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!
i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤
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The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles. 
When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.
You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended. 
The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.
Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.
Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.
That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon. 
You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section. 
You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.
You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.
Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim. 
Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.
He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.
“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.
He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.
You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.
“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward. 
You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure. 
And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.
Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too. 
They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.
Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.
You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get. 
As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.
The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.
You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there. 
He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.
“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”
“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen. 
His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned. 
You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.
You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you. 
You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”
He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.
Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess. 
The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.
You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.
The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.
It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.
“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.
He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”
Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.
You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.
You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”
You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.
He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.
You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.
For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more. 
He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.
“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.
He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”
“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”
“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.
“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.
“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”
“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.
His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.
Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.
“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.
Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.
“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”
The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.
You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.
You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.
Grumpy. 
That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.
This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.
Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume. 
At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together. 
You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.
You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.
It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.
As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house. 
“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.
As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”
You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”
“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”
“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”
“No.” she responded flatly.
“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”
“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.
“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”
She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together. 
“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.
It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights. 
Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house. 
The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen. 
Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.
The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt. 
He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.
He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past. 
And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.
Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.
He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again. 
So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.
As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too. 
But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.
Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.
Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.
But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.
Was someone actually coming up the porch?
He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.
“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”
“No.”
“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”
“Everyday,” she replied.
“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.
“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.
You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.
“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”
“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.
“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”
Her reluctant nod was your answer.
“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.
Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.
You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.
Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback. 
Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.
Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him. 
He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.
“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.
Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.
“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.
“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.
“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased. 
“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”
“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.
“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.
“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.
You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”
Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from  his left side.
You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh. 
You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.
Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess. 
Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.
“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.
“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.
“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.
“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.
“It,”
“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.
“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.
“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill. 
“I’m not just going to invite myself-”
“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”
You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.
You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky. 
You nodded.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”
“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid. 
“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.
“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.
“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.
“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.
What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.
She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”
“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”
“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”
It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.
“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.
“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”
You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself. 
“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”
“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”
Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.
“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”
“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”
There’s a pause before he continues,
“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”
You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.
“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now. 
“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”
“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”
“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”
“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled. 
You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did. 
The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.
Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.
Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless. 
Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.
You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.
He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.
As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer. 
You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.
“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.
“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”
“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.
“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.
You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically. 
It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed. 
“You get scared easily?” he asked.
“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.
You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.
The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.
Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.
He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,
“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.
Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”
His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another. 
You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.
His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.
His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.
You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves. 
“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.
“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.
You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.
He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs. 
You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”
That did nothing to ease your worry…
“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”
“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”
“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”
You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him. 
“Same page, then.”
“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you. 
His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips. 
His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you. 
You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off. 
While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.
He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.
His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.
You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core. 
When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.
You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.
As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower. 
You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.
He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved. 
His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit. 
He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.
“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance. 
“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit. 
“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.
“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.
“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”
The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted.  With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you cried.
“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”
One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.
“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock. 
Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end. 
With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more. 
You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.
He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.
“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.
His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”
“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.” 
He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.
“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.
Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 
“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”
Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.
You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
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