romanianseba

[romanianseba]

rewatching gotg vol 3 and it's adorable how everyone is the parent and everyone is the child at the same time

#like everyone yelling at drax but then all of them are also idiots and so they get yelled also #there's literally only one brain cell shared and nebula has 3/4 of it #guardians of the galaxy #gotg vol 3

[romanianseba]

This is a very Bucky Barnes type thing that say.

[romanianseba]

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#aaa so happy you liked it 🤭💞 #thank you!!

[romanianseba]

This is what a first draft of a scene when I write looks like LOL:

You get tired way too fast and stop, hands at your knees, he comes to you and gets very close to check on you and and and and he sees a hickey he sucked on you and he goes "Make sure to cover that up" and he freakin drops a kiss on it ahsjsnsndks.

#just me trying to get the important parts of a scene out of my head before i forget about it #sneak peak of a scene for the second part of just a walk ;)

[romanianseba]

Aaaaaaaaa thank you for this!!!! Giving me the fuel I need to tackle that second part 🤭

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#all the love for this kind of reactions 💞💜💘💝💖💕💛❣️💓💗💟 #thank youuu

[romanianseba]

Will you do a part 2 of just a walk??? I’m in love with it and can’t seem to get enough

aww so happy to hear that!!

yes!! I most likely will... like I said, I had plans to continue that oneshot on its own so yeah I pretty much have A LOT more to write about those two just in that one early morning day 🤭 stay tuned, I don't know when I'll happen but I'll try to start asap :))

#i miss writing actually.. #i wrote 'just a walk' about six months ago and reading it again made me miss writing #YES there will be a second part rest easy our dbfbucky smitten hearts🤧 #in fact the scenes that will be in part two are the ones i initially started writing it for haha #i just got carried away with kind of a back story and never got to them lol but i willl!!! #sneak peak: they're extra fluffy and extra hot.. #Just A Walk #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #(there's a reason it's titled that way omg because it initially was supposed to be about THE WALK lol i had forgotten about it) #(i got inspired by going on a walk every day at the start of the year heh)

[romanianseba]

my body literally cannot contain the massive amount of love i have for bucky barnes

#true and facts #bucky barnes

[romanianseba]

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#same #he's got me in his grip and won't let go #🤧

[romanianseba]

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#so happy you enjoyed it!! #🥺

[romanianseba]

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#💕💕 #thank you!!

[romanianseba]

Couldn't have said it better!! YES that's exactly what I was trying to convey. Thanks for taking the time to express what you thought it made me so happy to see 😭 THANK YOU so much :')

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#this gave me such a high you don't understand :') #i was like yasss👏

[romanianseba]

To Cherish Her Essence

(Part 1: Blue Eyes and Greasy Hair)

Can be read separately, but this is part two to Blue Eyes and Greasy Hair and follows right after that cheesy, lovesick, interrupted call with Bucky bear.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: stupid fluff

Word count: 1.3k

A/N [aka me ranting]: OVER two years ago, a very nice reader asked for a second part when I first posted what I intended on keeping as an only part and I finally felt in the right place and inspired to write it! I promise I would think about your request often, @barbar126, I hope you’re still interested lol I am the absolute worst ever and you have all the right to hate me for this. But it’s finally here and I hope you enjoy it so much!!!!! (after you’re done cursing me)<3 … It’s totally okay if you’re not into it no more tho, really ;)

Much love everybody and thanks for sticking around if you initially followed me for the writings, thanks for your patience and always being so kind to me. Love all ur lil pretty faces. Have a nice happy day!

*walks away in shame* (another one that was on my drafts for moooonths.. so it's been longer than two years now)

—

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

Bucky can tell by the sound of it that he got his attention just in time, right before his friend fell into full sleep unconsciousness. A huge grin takes over his face.

"Let me see my girl again."

Steve frowns, opens his eyes in the dark, crickets chirp outside as he hesitates to reply, not sure if Bucky's actually awake or just talking in his sleep. "What?"

"My girl. I wanna see her face."

Steve chuckles lightly, he can hear the smile in Bucky's voice, a clear indicator of his affection. Seeing how absolute smitten his best friend is with you always brings a smile to his face. Having witnessed the big changes Bucky made in the way he sees and carries himself since you started loving him.

"I can imagine, Buck." He offers tenderly. "Been so long, huh?"

"Yeah," The biggest smile never wavering from his lips, and again, "Can I see here, please?"

Steve frowns deeper, but he can't help laughing. "Well, I don't have magic powers. She's miles away, can't help you there, pal."

"Punk, your phone," Bucky says exasperatedly, "Let me see her in your phone." Though he's still smiling, and Steve goes silent on his side of the room.

"When she called, I saw her in the contact photo thing." He explains, to which Steve hums, expecting his friend to continue. Bucky rolls his eyes after a few seconds, and then, "I wanna see that again, Steve! Please, stop being silly."

"Why didn't you just ask for the phone, jeez." With a tint of amusement to his voice, Steve shakes his head, blindly palming for the device across his bed.

It's past eleven when the idea pops in Bucky's mind, being unable to sleep as he rather recalls the conversation he just had with you. Conversation that was rudely interrupted by Tony Stark, Bucky grows internally at the memory. Although being honest he isn't half as mad for the interruption, because Tony just informed them that they'll be able to fly back in two days. Two more days and he'll finally hear your voice, present right next to him. Experience your laugh again in full definition.

Right now, however, hearing your voice on the phone after so many weeks was on top of the best things that had ever happened to him. All tiredness and frustration from a failed mission gone as soon as he picked up the phone. Even more so, as soon as he saw your name accompanied by a circular shaped photo of your face on Steve's phone screen. Which is why he needs his friend's phone so badly right now.

Before his own phone died, Bucky would spend hours looking at pictures of you and him, mostly you. He loved taking candid pictures of you, many of which you didn't know of their existence.

You leaning over the sink in your shared bathroom, caught mid rant as you told Bucky about the newest additions to the pimple's family over your chin.

You licking a chocolate chip ice cream as you sit cross legged next to a pool, listening intently to whatever Wanda is saying next to you. The next, you leaning over Wanda's lap, laughing so hard he could tell there were tears in your eyes.

You slapping Sam's shoulder as you argue with him about Bucky's right to not be actively present in social media.

You sound asleep next to him, your head resting on his arm as you both laid in a picnic blanket outside in the vast compound fields, a little wildflower he had placed in your ear adorning your beautiful face.

He loved capturing simple moments. The ones you seem to treasure the most, he learned early on. You're a huge life enthusiast. Always cherishing the things others take for granted, the messy, the ordinary.

You cooking his favorite meal on a lazy Saturday afternoon, the sun peaking through the window lighting your face beautifully. You opening the latest gift he gave you. You lovingly watering your dear house plants. You standing barefoot on grass.

And then there was this one you did knew about; you laying naked on his bed, your pretty eyes looking directly at the camera, a blanket covering your intimate parts and leaving out just enough to make his head spin ever time he even so much as thought about the photo. You–

Something hitting his stomach stops his mind from revisiting more memories with you through photos he's taken. "You know my code."

"Thanks, pal."

His metal hand reaches for the small iPhone. His fingers pricking with anticipation, he goes straight to camera roll to see what other pictures he can find with you in it. Most of them are group photos with the team. Some of them, he notices with a smile, are candids of you and Bucky. Steve has never shown these to either of you. He smiles at a particular one at the beach, as he remembers that day as the day he started to teach you how to swim.

And as Bucky scrolls down further, he discovers his friend has an interest he didn't knew about. Tons of great candid photos of every member of the team, and brilliant takes of landscapes and nature.

"Hey, Buck?"

Bucky hums in response.

"I couldn't be happier, you know, you and her," He makes a pause and Bucky can tell he's smiling, "I'm so happy you got someone like her. I love you guys and what you've created together. I'll always be there for you two, whatever it is." He finish in his usual serious tone.

Bucky feels his smile tugging his lips wider across his cheeks. After everything, sometimes he can't believe he still has Steve by his side, his heart swells with affection every time he thinks about what a great person he befriended that many years ago.

"Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it. I love you. We love you."

"Sleep well, Buck." He says, turning on his side on the mattress, "If you feel like doing something weird, just lock yourself in the bathroom."

"Shut up." Bucky laughs.

"And leave my phone here."

"Punk."

"Jerk."

–

"Oh my God!"

Nat drops the popcorn she was throwing into her mouth, Wanda stops in the air, mid-sitting next to you, her drink on the brink of spilling. Steve stops dead in his tracks, stands still next to Bucky –the only person that seems to not get startled by the high pitched scream you just let out.

"Bucky!" Comes next, another yell.

"My love!" Comes out of his mouth, right before catching you.

Steve having to step aside when your bodies crash right next to him, a small chuckle bubbling out of his mouth as he moves further into the common area, greeting the girls then disappearing towards the kitchen.

Wanda shakes her head in amusement, getting comfortable in the couch you just abandoned. "Jeez, they're loud."

Your blanket and bowl of snacks was thrown hastily into the coffee table as soon as you faced the direction heavy footsteps were coming from and made eye contact with what you've been longing for for four long weeks, your favorite sight in the universe.

Bucky.

"It's over, Wan. Lovesick people is back in town." Nat declares with a smirk of her own, her body sprawled in the big chaise lounge, pressing play to start the movie because it was naive to believe you would join back.

"Bucky, you're here!" You babble, wrap your arms around him as if to not let go for a long time, dig your nose in his neck, breathe in his scent. "Tony said one more week at least!"

Bucky grumbles, rolling his eyes as he holds you flush against him. "Tony is a jerk, he knew we were coming back today."

"Hey! What's wrong with surprises?" Tony demanded through a granola bar trapped between his teeth as he comes out of the kitchen just in time to hear what you said to each other.

Though he's completely ignored as he walks past the two of you, plugging a screwdriver into a broken gadget between his hands.

"Baby!" You practically squeal and Bucky can't help smiling lovingly, "Are you okay? My God, I missed you so much."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagina #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #i am a clown

[romanianseba]

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#thanks for the comment!! 💕 #keeping me alive in the refreshing game honestly.. was so happy to see a reblog with feedback

[romanianseba]

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#:)

[romanianseba]

Just A Walk

What happens when you wake up on your dad's best friend's bed come morning? Is he as unyielding as he constantly seems to be?

Pairing: dad’s best friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: age gap, reader is twenty (bucky is thirty-nine), sexual tension, mentions of sex, explicit content, smutty smut, dirty talk, adult talk, fluff ?? 18+ only

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: pov: after reading all those countless dbf!bucky fics, now you're wondering what would actually happen the morning after you let the spark start the fire with your dad's best friend.

—

hello! a pretty chill, hot, fluffy lil fic that I hope you enjoy very much!!!!!, makes you smile, inspires you, whatever. love you guys thanks for staying around and always being so kind to me<3 let me know what you think ????!!!! (this has been on my drafts for months cause i had plans to continue but.... hehe)

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out groggy, thick with sleep as you pat hair out of your face and rub your eyes.

He stands at the other side of the room. Giving you only a side glance that last a second when you speak. Right before diving back into his task at hand; looking for whatever he wants to take from his dresser.

And if you were a bit more awake and on your senses you wouldn't have missed the way he literally froze when he realized he had woken you up.

"I'm going for a walk," He replies, sounding distant and avoiding eye contact with you as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed to put socks on.

A harsh contrast to the intense eye contact he had going on a few hours ago as he railed you on his mattress. Two rough fingers inside your mouth while he hold your face in place, forcing you to keep your eyes on his with each hard trust of his hips.

"Right now? Today?" You push on your elbows to take a look at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, confirming your suspicion that it is, in fact, before sunrise.

"Yes."

You frown, your student brain unable to understand why.

"Why?" Why?

Why this early?

Why at 5:30 AM on bloody Sunday?

He chuckles under his breath, tying his sneakers fast, "I have a routine, baby."

"I see that," You mutter absently, your mind already taking a moment to just take the man in.

He's glorious. It's difficult for you to think of a more beautiful man. Even when your imagination is so vivid and can get so creative, you couldn't possibly create a person in your head that rivals his beauty.

It doesn't come close to a magazine male model, it's far better.

Bucky's though and raw, with imperfect hot features, unedited; he's real.

Right in front of you; you are in his bed; and you can't wrap your head around it.

His long bed hair tangling in every direction, some rebel strands falling over his face. The comfy thick sweatpants he's now wearing; very innocent, except they're hanging dangerously low on his hips. So low, your thighs squeeze together as you briefly take sight of his happy trail while he slips on a sweater and his white t-shirt riddles up for a second.

And he notices. Of course he notices.

And he gives in. Finally looking you down, laying on his bed, taking in your naked form under his sheets.

Your attention perks up and you feel vaguely more awake when you catch his eyes on you, finally. Your heart skips a beat when he takes you in.

Just like yesterday night.

And you can almost see the flashbacks swimming in his head. Your small body squirming under his. Flashbacks that you both share now. His big thick fingers buried deep inside your warm and tight center, working you wonderfully. Flashbacks from the night you two finally ignored all the logical reasons both your heads had on why you shouldn't fuck each other and gave in to each other's fantasies. His experienced tongue and fingers making you come undone beneath him once or twice before finally taking you.

All the scenes running quickly through his mind —allowing you to fall sleep over his chest afterwards, and not getting that much sleep at all himself— taking him to the present moment.

Your body blinding all his common sense again. After finally knowing how good it feels in his hands, how soft, he was all the more eager to touch you again. Your legs tightly shut and a hint of a smile tugs at his mouth seeing the effect he has on you; a little, sweet, innocent–looking, beautiful girl.

Half his age... and his best friend's daughter.

Suddenly his eyes rip from you, like a coming out of a fantasy, like a bubble has been popped. And he's back to staring at the floor and avoiding your existence in his room. In his bed.

Your heart drops.

But your lips keep the little, youthful, stupid smile that has been there since yesterday night when you sneaked into his house at midnight. With high hopes and an aching cunt, and he didn't kick you out.

What confused you the most was not his distant attitude, but his very active demeanor so early in the morning, he looked fresh and fully awake. Something you were still trying to cope with, your eyes begging you to close them again.

And how does he do it when you, unbeknownst to anyone, clearly see his lights going off well past midnight each day? Staying up till late watching YouTube videos from your bed while keeping an eye on Bucky's bedroom, who's window was conveniently aligned with yours from the house next door.

"How come you wake up so early when you go to sleep so late most days?"

"Like I said, I have a routine," He states firmly as he goes to grab one last piece of clothing to keep warm outside in the already freezing autumn weather. "You better go back home before your parents find out you're not in bed." His voice is firm and authoritarian.

And your insides tighten because that's just how he sounded yesterday when he asserted his dominance over you.

"Don't fucking move."

"Bucky," You whimpered, pussy already sensitive and abused, stubble burning your thighs deliciously as he licked his way through your second orgasm. "Please... please, just– just take me already."

He growled, hands strongly pinning down your hips, "I'm gonna fucking take you whenever I feel like it."

You'll be lying if you said that alone didn't make you so damn wet again.

"I wanna go on a walk with you." Throwing the soft white sheets off your body, you stand up hastily.

"What?" Is his immediate response. Eyes snapping back to your side of the room. "No."

That word alone like a warning.

"Yes, I want to." You persist, enthusiastically.

"You have to get to your house."

His tone of voice is dead serious, but his brain is losing it every passing second as he watches you stand there naked. Eyes burning holes all over your body.

"I love walks."

Trying your best to ignore the intensity of his gaze on your skin, you reach to pick up your abandoned underwear thrown by his desperate hands onto the floor hours ago. Panties going quickly up your legs and clasping your bra before he speaks again.

It takes all the will power he's ever mustered to tear his eyes from you and pace around the room, gathering his stuff to leave as soon as possible. "You can't come with me. Save a moment to go by yourself later– after you've had breakfast, I don't know."

His voice still assertive, but now there's a desperate edge to his tone; his logic trying to convince himself this is a bad idea, trying come up with stuff to stop him from spending more time with you.

"Please," You beg lightheartedly, Unbothered about his seriousness, slipping the pair of sweatpants and old shirt you wore to sneak out of your house back on and being thankful for your outfit choice. Which will not serve as excuse to not go on a walk, you'll be covered enough against the early morning cold.

Knowing it wouldn't be a matter of seeing you wearing revealing clothes for Bucky anymore you had chosen to go with comfiness over looking appealing. Truth be told, he would've taken you even if you were wearing a potato bag with how long you both had dragged the teasing and tension between each other.

Fully dressed, you continue your persuasion. "It should be fun. Besides it's Sunday, they won't be up till later."

He stops abruptly when reaching to unplug his charging phone, deciding he's had enough. Turning back to face you, this time he makes sure to look into your eyes.

"Listen, doll, we're not–" He cuts himself short, deciding he doesn't want to just be a jerk and possibly hurt your feelings.

Slowly scanning your soft, young face and wide eyed expectant expression, he takes a few short calming breaths. Decisive but softer this time, he continues. "We should've talked about this earlier. You shouldn't have even stayed the night over. We're not a couple, alright? We..."

"I know about casual sex, Bucky." You cut him off in a know-it-all tone of voice, close to rolling your eyes at him.

He strides closer, stopping right in front of you. Fresh mint breath fanning on your face with how close his frame looms over yours, big and tall.

The exasperate fire picking up in his voice and expression again.

"Then you understand that you going on a walk with me, suddenly being part of my routine, after casual sex, would imply more than that."

You know how he feels. And, deep down, of course you feel stupid, too. But you're not ready to leave him alone in his misery. You're not ready to be alone in yours.

And you definitely want more of him. Having experienced last night you know sex will never be the same for you, not if it's not with Bucky. And you won't risk having him push you away so soon.

Thankfully for both of you, he was one of the very few people you trusted with your life and his rage didn't make you feel unsafe. Maybe flinch a bit, maybe if you were completely honest it turned you on a bit; but it certainly didn't make you feel at risk at all.

So even when you're not usually argumentative, or the most confident person, and would have already given up with basically everyone else; meekly giving them the reason, you refuse to right now. And it's possibly the most stubborn moment of your life.

"C'mon, everyone can go on a walk. You think it's a Bucky Barnes thing?" You scoff and tease him playfully. "We just happen to be two people that know each other and decided to go and have a walk together for not having anything else to do this bloody early in the morning. I can't go back to sleep and I'm going on a walk, too." Your gaze is challenging now.

Bucky Barnes was convinced that your stubborn and sometimes confident personality was going to add five years to his life and suck five from him at the same time.

Jaw tightly clenched and a very faint spark of amusement in his eye, he growls lowly.

"You don't fucking give up, do you?"

The eye contact you had manage to keep falters and you swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. Your naturally nonconfrontational and calm state of existing unable to maintain the confident facade for longer.

"I— uhm, I promise I won't talk much, won't bother you." You mumble.

His hard features soften immediately, voice a gentle whisper as he shakes his head.

"You don't fucking bother me when you speak, doll," His eyes searching for yours to insist on it; "Get that out of your pretty head."

He lets out a long and tired sigh, stepping away briefly to reach into his reach-in closet and a drawer before approaching you again.

"Here," He hands you a coat and goes to roll a beanie down your head. "Don't want you to catch a cold.

You can't hide your gleeful smile when you realize he's allowed you to join him.

"Thanks."

"This won't happen again." He announced, his hands arranging the warm blue beanie over your head.

Your smile falters a bit, looking up to him, a knot going up your throat causing you to stammer.

"What? This..."

"What? Are you worrying I won't fuck you again, dirty little thing?" His smirk is smug and self-satisfied.

A calloused palm goes up to the side of your neck as he, very slowly, leans down to gravelly whisper in your ear. "You felt too good to give that up so soon, sweet cheeks."

His intention clear to torture you. The innocent, feather-like lick and tug of his teeth at your earlobe confirm it to you.

Facing you again, he stares for a while; blue eyes locked on yours, his nose an inch from yours. Small baby face against his older, mature one. Your mouth goes dry.

"It's the last time you beg to do anything else with me that is not screw around. And as soon as we come back you're slipping your ass back to bed." A pause, "Your own."

You can't argue back on that.

"Fine."

–

"Where are we going on your bike? The park's two blocks from here."

Trailing behind him into the garage, you frown when you see him taking his big, stunning, motorcycle ready.

"Not going there today. I see Mr. Wilson and a few others walking there every day. I don't want any nosy neighbors running their mouths to your dad about it." His answer is fast, like it's a thought that's been going around his head all this time.

Holding a bike helmet in each hand, he approaches you again.

"This shouldn't be weird. I mean, you're always at my house. People know you're basically an uncle to me." You express mindlessly, finding it funny that he wants to avoid you in public all of a sudden.

"Stop," He hisses through gritted teeth and closes his eyes, focusing on breathing calmly through his nose after the guilt-ridden mental slap he just experienced with what you said. "Just– do not say that again."

"Okay," You say just above a whisper, biting your tongue before he regrets letting you go with him.

Sighing he places one helmet on top of the almost sparkling seat of his bike and lifts his hands to help you into the other one. Carefully covering your head with the heavy black material and doing all the safety checks himself; making sure it's comfortable and placed correctly.

His eyes fall on yours after he's pleased with it, hands resting on each side of your head; over the helmet. You stare back, like suddenly being trapped under a spell. His eyes are gentle this time, and the moment feels so intimate, so warm and lovely, you feel heat warming your cheeks.

Just two people who are madly attracted to each other, staring into each other's soul... at least that's how it feels to you. Lasting both an eternity and simply not enough.

Breaking the spell, popping the bubble, slapping you out of a daze; you jump a little, getting startled when he slides the helmet faceshield down.

Ending the intimate eye contact and the spell you were both in.

"Is it comfortable?" He ask, and you're glad to realize he too sounds slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, just a little heavy." You breathe out. "But it's okay."

He nods, his thumb wiping away a dusty spot on the black tinted faceshield. A light frown, caused probably by intense overthinking, permanent on his handsome face.

"Good."

#dad's best friend!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #older!bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #dad's best friend!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes #neighbor!bucky barnes x reader #dbf #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #dad's best friend!bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader oneshot #older!bucky barnes #dad's friend!bucky barnes #dad's best friend #dad's best friend trope #dbf!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshots #bucky barnes one shot #bucky imagine #bucky x reader

[romanianseba]

Victims

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky spilling out what has been going on inside his mind. (Post Civil War)

Warnings: some angst but gets pretty fluffy

Word count: 2,054

A/N: This is the first fic that I'm ever posting and I'm pretty nervous buy also excited. This is also the first thing that I have written with Bucky since everything I have written for my entertainment has been with Sebastian. So... yes, I have a lot of little, fluffy drabbles with Seb. Let me know if you're interested in reading them because I thinking I'm ready to share and I would love to :) (let me know if I suck at summaries too, because that's new for me) Enjoy!

—

The movie you both had decided to watch was a little over the first hour, and probably just starting to get to the exciting part, but it was long forgotten when you noticed Bucky wasn't into it anymore, judging by his lack of commenting on what was going on. Besides, he would always laugh when you laughed which he wasn't doing anymore.

At first you thought he fall asleep but then you felt the gentle, circular strokes he was doing on your arm and you knew he just traveled inside his own mind. He wasn't much into the popular entertainment anyway, claiming that the one from his time was way better and not at all pointless like now a days. Deciding to do the same and just focus on the peaceful feeling the slow ups and downs of his chest brought you, you relaxed, glued to his body, in the comfortable moment of silence you were sharing. Unconsciously, you even turned down the volume of the TV to enjoy more of the calmness of his breathing and the sudden sighs he would let out.

Shifting your position, you placed your hands over one another over Bucky's chest and rested your chin on top of them, fixating your eyes on his zoned out face. His eyes were looking straight in front of him, where the closet door was placed. He didn't even seem to notice that you've shifted and were looking at him now. Both of you were lazily laying in bed, on a yet more lazy Sunday evening. Well, he was laying on his back in bed while you were half laying over his huge body.

"Hey." You called to bring him back in a soft whisper.

That got his attention for just a few seconds where his eyes found your face making his lips instantly twitch upwards on a soft smile as his hand gently pushed back strands of hair that fell on the side of your face. "Hey, doll." He mumbled only to focus his gaze back on the closet door as soon as he greeted you back. His hand remained on your hair.

"You're so beautiful, Buck." You whispered after more silence, an enamored smile on your face as you admired the lazy look he had at the moment. Lazy looks were your favorites on him. You loved when his long hair was disheveled and his beard was skipping the grooming days.

"Not more than you." His gaze still not finding yours when he responded and that's were you knew something was disturbing his mind. You frowned.

"Of course you are." You said, your fingers stroking his beard. "What're you thinking?"

"Huh?"

"What are you thinking about?" You said calmly and chuckled as a way to try and put your nerves down. You just wanted to know about whatever that was bothering him.

He blinked a couple of times before his eyes found yours but he really wasn't seeing you. Though his eyes were on you, they seemed to be miles away from this reality. "About you." He spoke without emotion, his face remained lost while his fingers absently caressed your cheek.

If you weren't as worried as you were about what was bothering him you would be sad and hurt for the emptiness of his words, but you couldn't know him any better and you knew he deepens in his thoughts when something is really tormenting his mind.

"Bucky." You called when his eyes met the ceiling. "Bucky."

"Hmm?" He said absently.

You pushed yourself upwards to be at his eye level, resting your elbows on his chest and cupping his cheeks with both hands. Titling his head you made him face you again.

"Hey." You called softly, worry attached to your voice. "What's wrong?"

Bucky seemed to finally get out of his trance when you forced him to lock eyes with you, he blinked and after watching you for a few seconds he shook his head.

"Nothing. Let's go to sleep, sweetheart, it's pretty late." He forced a smile as his hand went to turn off the dim light on the nightstand next to his side of the bed but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Talk to me, Bucky." You whispered.

His blue eyes watched you in silence while he debated on his mind wether to tell you or not. And now you kind of had an idea of what this was all about.

"C'mon, tell me what's going on on this pretty head of yours." You gave him a reassuring smile, slowly running your finger over his forehead.

He considered it for a few more seconds as you only watched him, worry filled your eyes but you tried your best to maintain a small and calm smile.

He must have seen your struggle because he finally spoke after letting out a deep sigh, making you breath again.

"Steve and Stark-," He began. "They- they don't talk to each other anymore."

You waited patiently for him to continue. That's how it was when he decided he wanted to share some of his heavy thoughts with you. He would go slow, taking his time to think of the right words to say but, once he opened out, he would just go on and on. He would tell you everything that was on his mind; every detail, every thought he had recompiled for days until his mind was empty before you again and until there wasn't anything left that he was holding from you and, finally, he would relax. It was difficult to make him talk at first, every new problem tormenting his mind seeming bigger than the last one, but once you got him to tell you, his words would just slowly flow out and flow out.

"And... that's because of me." He swallowed and you flinched at his words. "They were a team. And here I came back to put them all apart. Everyone in the team; Wanda, Natasha, Sam. They were all saving people together and now they've been divided only to save one person that might not even deserve to be saved."

Tears started to accumulate on you eyes and you closed them.

"Of course you deserved to be saved and you still deserve it." Opening your eyes again you lock them with his. "You didn't kill Wakanda's King, so, why would you deserve to be jailed? An idiot planned it all, remember?"

"I know." He sighed. "But I did kill Stark's parents. And it's my fault Steve lost his friendships and the place where they used to live. Nothing is the same anymore. No one is safe, they're all unsure of what to do and it's all because of me. I allowed you into my life and I put you in danger too. Sometimes I think they should've put me to sleep forever instead of wasting time trying to make me heal." His voice cracked a little.

"Stop." You said shakily but he continued.

"I have done so much wrong and I have caused so much suffering to so many people, I don't deserve to be treated the way I'm being treated here, all this comfort while Steve and his friends are living undercover. I don't understand why T'Challa and his people are doing all this for me. After learning of all the people I hurt, I really don't deserve anything." His eyes looked deeply into yours. "I don't understand why you're doing all this for me."

"Stop." You repeated and your hold on his cheeks tightened. "Listen to me. You're a victim, Bucky. Just as innocent as they all were." You were seeing a blurry Bucky in front of you as thick tears started to fall. "And it hurts me so much to listen to you say that you deserve something bad. No, Bucky. Because it wasn't you. It wasn't you."

You said repeatedly, thinking that maybe they'll stuck in his mind that way, maybe they'll finally infiltrate the deepest part of his mind and kill the terrible thoughts that punish him time after time, the thoughts that steal his desire to be happy.

"You didn't have control, they manipulated you. It wasn't you that wanted to make bad to that people. Hydra killed Stark's parents, not you. It wasn't Bucky Barnes thinking inside your head. You weren't Bucky Barnes in that moment, do you understand? You got robbed of so many things; your memories, your body, your life. You don't deserve more suffering. It's just right you're finally living comfortably after all those years."

You sobbed and, through your watery eyes, you saw tears falling down his cheeks too.

"You say you want to protect me and you think the best way of doing it is by letting yourself die? And what better would that do to my life? Who would protect me then? Who would I have left?" You exhaled a deep breath. "I don't know what would I do without you. I've lost everything as well, remember? You're the only one I have, Bucky. And I don't want to lose you. I'm not gonna lose you." You said frenetically, sadness filling your voice and your entire being.

Bucky shook his head, sadness filling him too as he watched you break apart. "No. No, you're not gonna lose me, doll." He said softly. "I promise. I will never leave you. I'll always be here to protect you, okay? You're not gonna lose me. I'm gonna stay with you." He assured you firmly.

He wanted nothing but kick to himself for making you feel sorrow, but first he had to calm you down.

You were shaking so much, Bucky was afraid you were going to break. His thumbs, and his whole hands, were wiping your tear covered face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please-" He said, pressing his forehead against yours. "Don't cry, baby, please." His arms sneaked around you, pulling you to his chest and hugging you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head as you soaked his shirt with your tears. "Please, don't worry about me." His kissed your head and rested his cheek against it.

"I'll always worry about you, Bucky." You sobbed when you started to calm down. "You have me loving you so much not to."

Bucky smiled softly.

"I can't help but have these feelings once in a while but I promise I'm gonna try. For you. I'm so sorry." He said after some minutes, running his fingers through your hair. "I don't want you to think I don't care about how could it be for you if I wasn't here anymore. I just thought your life could be simpler and less dangerous without you being around super people." He made a pause and signed. "Thanks for letting me know how you feel about that. I've never wanted to leave you, I just thought it would be easier for you. Please forgive me."

"If I had to risk my life again to be with you I would do it. I would do it again and again for the rest of my life. If I had to die while saving you I'll take that risk. Because you're important to me, Bucky. Can you please understand that?"

He nodded. "And you are for me. So much." He whispered and kissed your head again.

You hugged him tightly, pressing your body harder against his.

"Bucky?" You spoke again after a long period of silence where Bucky thought you fell asleep.

"Yes?" He mumbled while massaging your head.

"All those things that happened while on Hydra's power? That's exactly why you deserve to be saved."

Bucky wasn't able to contain the smile twitching his lips upwards, feeling deeply grateful for having you in his life. You were his only light. You were always seeing the beauty on him and that's what kept him trying. Your support and encouragement, and mostly, you reminding him that he was worthy. It was there everyday. Whether you voiced it or made something that let him know he was worth of love. Something he was still trying to understand but he was taking it. He was taking it for you. Because he realized you were happy doing that for him, and he never wanted to be the one holding that happiness from you.

#just wanted to come here to say i literally just lived this whole fic yesterday in real life with my boofriend #and i just have to say.... #it's so painful to have to watch your loved one crumble like this it's sooo hard #i can't believe i wrote this not knowing i would experience something similar four years later #circumstances are different but VERY similar feelings #:'( #you literally just want them to know they deserve so much more than what they believe they do

[romanianseba]

Inktober day 19. 18. 17. 16. 15.  14. 13.  12. 11. 10. 8/9. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. x.

#bucky barnes #art #fan art