Bucky the Jerk, part 6
AM I THE SLOWEST WRITER IN THE FANDOM OR WHAT
yes. yes i am.
Hi my lovelies, I am here, and I am writing. I bring you Chapter 6 of Bucky the Jerk - please don’t kill me, I know it’s been ages. I have no idea what i think of this one, I feel like it’s awful, so i will really really need your opinions on it.
Please comment or send anons if you’re shy tolet me know what you thought. I am but a small anxious bean.
THANK YOU FOR WAITING ♥♥♥ you make this happen.
The day went by in a haze. You didn’t go out of your room, even when Natasha threatened to kick it down. You promised her to come down for supper, but you dreaded the prospect.
You tried to read a novel you had with you, but the words ran away from you and you kept re-reading the same sentence without grasping it.
You went in circles around the room.
The kiss, the kiss, the kiss - it repeated itself in your mind’s eyes, you still felt Bucky on you. You still remembered exactly where and in what order he touched you, you could still taste him on your lips. You kept touching your neck where he touched it as if expecting a burn to surface on the skin. You felt so hot that you might’ve as well been burned. He marked you, scorched you, and you hated him for it.
Your strange feelings for him came out of nowhere after that night-time kiss in the hallway. They weren’t even feelings - just lust. You tried to be honest with yourself - the lust was there all this time. The lust was there when he called you names, it was there when he said you had no taste, it was there when he called you “princess” with a smirk that clearly said “I don’t really mean this lovely pet name”.
Oh, Gods, you hated him. You hated him so much - it made you want him more. You tried to be rational, to analyse, but just kept circling the room, almost breaking your own fingers from nerves.
Lust is not love - you kept telling yourself. It’s nothing. Fleeting, an illusion - here and then gone. You didn’t even know Barnes that well to have any sort of a feeling towards him. Well, you knew his whole backstory. You knew he got nightmares, you heard him scream sometimes and it curled your blood. You knew he was kind, that he worshipped Steve. You knew how hard it was for him to build a friendship with Tony, but how much he cherished it. You knew he was such a sweet tooth. You knew he’d never let you get hurt for all his shitty behavior - he protected you like a dog on missions. He carried you to the Quinjet and from it to your room when you broke your left ankle in a fight. He looked so angry… Maybe you did know him a little bit. But no, no, this was all superficial - anyone who saw him day after day would pick up on these things. Absolutely.
You couldn’t keep track of time, and at some point, you heard a gentle knock on your door.
“Yeah?” You answered, still pacing, contemplating biting your nails to relieve at least some of the stress.
“Can I come in?” Came Wanda’s voice.
You went to the door and opened it. Wanda walked in with Natasha close on her heel.
They both sat on your bed, Nat crossing her legs and eyeing you suspiciously, Wanda with a look of compassion.
“What?” You asked.
“I have two questions.” Natasha said, “The first one is whether or not you’re coming down to eat, or if you’ve decided to live in this room now and die of thirst and hunger.”
You rolled your eyes at the redhead.
“And the second is - what did you do to Bucky? He looks like he’s buried someone.”
Your cheeks flared up with indignation.
“I did not do anything to him! It’s all his own fault!”
Wanda raised her eyebrows and looked at Natasha.
Natasha bore her eyes into you, silently demanding an explanation. So you explained.
“He said this morning that he has feelings for me or some shit… and he kissed me… and he wants to be with me, or I don’t know…”
You looked at your friends, who just sat there calmly with little smiles. You lift your hands in dismay.
“Yeah… We kinda knew.” Natasha said.
You needed a second to accept that information.
“I am so confused right now.” You finally said.
“Want us to clarify?”
You kept standing in front them, arms tightly around your body, trying to calm down and failing miserably. Wanda finally spoke, a guilty expression on her face.
“We confronted Bucky about a month after you joined and demanded to know why was he acting so awful towards you. He said it was just “harmless fun” and you didn’t mind…”
“Yeah, that bullshit that he tried to sell everyone - we didn’t quite believe it.” Nat chimed in. “So after a while, Wanda performed some Emergency Information Extraction.”
You smiled a bit, quirking an eyebrow at your friend.
“Don’t judge me, she made me,” Wanda said.
“Ok, so let me get this straight,” You put your hands in your hair, trying to suppress the rushing train of thought that kept screeching Bucky’s name, “You two knew for the last, what, six months? That Barnes has feelings for me. You let him be a complete and total jerk to me, stood by as I cried and thought he hates me. And you think it’s ok somehow?”
Your friends looked guilty.
“We were always trying to push you two together. Put you on missions with him, left you alone in a room, made sure you sit close at movie nights. But you were oblivious, and he got so anxious that he mucked it up every time.” Wanda explained.
“Yeah, that doesn’t really make me feel any better.” You started to pace again, “Does anybody else know?”
“Uhhh…” Wanda said and Natasha scooted a bit closer to her. You stopped in front of them.
“Sam,” Nat said.
“What?!” You exploded, “Sammy knows? And he’s been…. Oh, my dear Sammy. Wait, how does it even tie together? He kept trying to protect me from all the nastiness.”
“Yeah, he did. He thought our tactic was stupid.”
“Sammy’s always got my back.”
You laughed again, and then a realisation hit you.
“Fuck, that’s what he meant!”
“What?” Nat and Wanda said together.
“Sam! During the game, when you dared him to tell me a secret. He said that someone in the room was dying of jealousy.”
Natasha burst out laughing.
“Sam is as subtle as an elephant.” She said through giggling.
“Yeah, he is actually - he got me wondering, but how the hell was I supposed to know he meant Barnes? Wait, no… I was sitting with Sam all cuddled up.” You put a hand over your mouth.
Wanda raised an eyebrow.
“Does Barnes think Sam and I are a thing?”
“Well… not quite…” Wanda mumbled, avoiding your gaze.
“Wanda, what did you do?”
“Um… well, during the game Bucky sort of asked me to poke around and see if Sam likes you.”
“What? You never told me that!” Natasha exclaimed.
“And you did that?” You asked Wanda, ignoring Natasha’s rumbling.
“No, of course not! I just told him I did.”
“Why?” You scrunched up your face, trying to understand what in the hell was going on and how did you come to live in a school drama anime.
“To light a fire under him. Now that he thinks Sam has feelings for you - maybe he’ll finally do something about his own.”
“What?!” You yelled and ran to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your burning face.
Natasha kept huffing and reprimanding Wanda for keeping this juicy tidbit from her.
When you came out of the bathroom, not bothering to dry out the water, letting it fall down your face and neck and wet your clothes, you almost felt better. Wanda and Nat were waiting.
“I guess that explains the kiss.”
They looked at each other.
“Uuuhh, the one during the game?” Nat asked.
“No, the one in the hallway in the middle of the night. And the one this morning in the kitchen.”
You were absolutely sure that real women never did the “excited friend squeal”, but here they were.
“He kissed you?!”
“Yeah…” You saw flashes of the memory and at once felt yourself flare up. Damn it, Barnes.
“You have to go talk to him!” Natasha said, barely containing her excitement.
“And say what exactly?”
“What… what do you mean? Don’t you like him?”
You didn’t know how to answer that question. All the feelings you had for Bucky previously and the ones you developed during this weekend were mashed together into a big blob of who-the-hell-knows.
Wanda stood up and took your shoulders, looking you in the eyes.
“You know you have to talk to him. It’s a strange situation, yes, but you can’t figure it out alone in silence. It takes two to tango, and this has been going on long enough.”
“Yeah, for him! I mean… He’s had these feelings for me and he knew exactly what they were - and I thought he hates me! And I went from that. I was defensive, and yeah I guess I know him and I find him attractive…”
At that Natasha stood up as well.
“Ok, you know what? I am telling you to go talk to him. You can protest and bitch about it, but you have to. This is ridiculous, you obviously like him!”
“Obviously?” You asked. You had no energy to argue.
They both nodded with absolutely infuriatingly knowing expressions on their faces.
“Fine.” You bit out and turned to go find Bucky.
Bucky sat in the lounge with everyone, ignoring his beer. He kept getting distracted from the lazy conversation, but nobody reprimanded him for it.
He sat there all day, trying to recover from kissing you. He came to the conclusion that it was virtually impossible and that you seeped so deeply into his skin, that he would never get rid of the desire to have you.
He stared into the fireplace, thinking about that torn croissant he picked up from the floor at your feet. You were barefoot and you had dark-blue, almost black nail varnish on your toe-nails.
“Buck, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, poking him in the shoulder.
Bucky snapped his eyes up.
“Uh, nothing. Headache.”
“Oh. You need a painkiller? I think there are some in the…”
“No, I’m… Uh…” He couldn’t finish the thought, because he saw you walking down the hallway past the lounge, not even sparing the team a glance.
He followed your movements, jerky and uncertain, and when you rounded the corner and were out of view, he jumped up and went after you.
He saw you run upstairs and followed. You stopped in front of his door and knocked five staccato times.
“Y/N.” He said, approaching you.
“Jesus fucking christ!” You jumped and clutched your heart, “Bucky!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Um… aren’t you knocking on my door?”
“Yeah, but I was expecting you to come out from the other side of it!” You panted, “Ugh, you really scared me.”
“I’m so jumpy today.”
He looked at you, waiting.
“Can we talk?” You asked him.
He nodded and opened his door, letting you in and following. His room was drowning in gloom, curtains closed and bed unmade.
You stood in the middle of it, your mind empty but for the screeching “what the fuck am I doing” rolling around it on repeat.
“Um… So, I thought about our thing and I… I don’t know anything, Barnes. I don’t know what I came here to say, to be honest. I felt like I knew.”
“That’s ok. Take as much time as you need.” He said softly, coming closer. He stood in front of you, solemn and sad, his hair tied back and his eyes shining.
Those eyes hypnotised you.
“I suppose there is one way of speeding up my… thought process.”
“What’s that?” He asked, instinctively raising his hand to touch you. He thought better of it and pulled it back, but you grabbed his palm.
You stared at each other for a second, silent, savouring the prediction of what was about to happen.
You pulled his hand and placed your lips on his. Softly, calmly, a chaste kiss that disintegrated you whole.
He grabbed your waist and you felt his breathing speed up. He dug his fingers into you almost painfully, but you enjoyed it. You nipped lightly at his lip and he opened his mouth, licking gently at your lips. You let out a shaky half-moan and he slipped his hands up your back and enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, melting into him.
You felt him.
You took a step back towards the bed and he followed you, not daring to break the kiss.
You turned and sat him down, settling on his lap. His hands were everywhere - on your hips, your calves, up and up and gently brushing your bum, and your waist, back, tangled in your hair… You moaned into his mouth and he pushed his tongue, gently, between your lips. You granted permission and touched him with your tongue just as tentatively. His breathing hitched. You opened your eyes for a second and saw that his were tightly shut, his brow furrowed, his cheeks red.
“Y/N…” He pulled away, looking at you.
“No,” You swung your leg over and straddled him, “You don’t talk.”
He didn’t have time to be surprised, because you attacked his lips again, moaning out at the contact. You grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it up impatiently. He struggled out of it and you thought he was about to say something again, so you dove for his delicious looking neck and put your fingers on his parted lips.
He kissed your fingers, kissed your palm, kissed down your arm, up your shoulder, forcing you to move away from his exposed neck. You whined and pulled on his hair, earning an unexpected, pleased growl from him. You reached down and pulled your top over your head without a second thought. He swore quietly and slid his hands, carefully, up your waist.
“Touch me.” You said, so quietly, you weren’t sure he’d hear. But he obeyed.
His mouth was hot and urgent on your left nipple, his hand demanding on your right. You arched your back towards him and started instinctively grinding against him. He took a deep, shaky breath and put pressure on your lower back, pressing you closer to the angry bulge in his jeans.
The waistband of your soft sweatpants was so easy to move aside, which he did, before giving you a glance. He saw lust and permission to do anything and everything and pushed his hand inside.
You held onto his shoulders and hair, grinding softly, his torturous fingers inching towards your core.
You wanted to call his name.
He finally reached the band of your panties and hesitated. You pulled on his hair and he slid his palm in. You were dripping wet from the moment you touched his lips, aching inside and out, rays of heat shooting through your spine from every touch, every sigh.
His mouth left a hot, wet trail down your throat, and just as you grabbed his belt buckle, he carefully slid two fingers between your lower lips. You felt your head fall on his shoulder.
He slowly pushed his fingers up and down your soft pussy, massaging your clit. Bucky felt a rush of blood shooting to his temples from every little moan he got from you, every excruciating grind of your hips. He pulled you up and quickly slid your pants down your legs, and as you tried to step out of them and bend down to unzip his, he grabbed your thighs and pressed his mouth to your core.
You exclaimed a soft “Oh!”, holding on to his shoulders. He licked and lapped with such enthusiasm, moaning into you, that you almost fell down from how weak your knees went. His fingers were painfully demanding on your hips and you bucked ever so slightly into him. You felt him drop one of his hands and heard the jingling of his belt.
You were both struggling for air. You could hear Bucky panting, as he unbuckled his belt, pulled the zipper down and stilled. You slid your hands down his torso and pushed his pants down his legs. You could not believe how shy he was, despite the passion, and how aroused you both got.
You didn’t drop your gaze, even though you were desperate to look at his cock, but instead, you took it in your hand and pumped slowly, marveling at its hardness and size. Bucky grabbed your hips again and pulled you towards him, desperation on his face. You couldn’t stop looking at him - nobody ever in your entire life has looked at you like he did. You saw adoration, you saw lust, you saw excruciating pain and longing, impatience and so, so much love.
He pulled you down on the bed and you obeyed, laying down on your back. You cupped his face with one hand, hugging his back with the other, and he pressed flush against you. his metal arm held you by the waist, hard and unyielding under you, and his flesh one caressed your thighs, inching towards your wetness again. You moaned, almost inaudibly, when he leaned down and kissed you, and he immediately tugged your leg up and aside. You felt his hard tip teasing your entrance and as you laced your fingers through his tangled hair that got untied from how much you tugged on it, he slowly pushed inside you.
You couldn’t breathe from how full you felt at once. It was painful to the point of absolute bliss, your tightness so unusual, that he gasped and knitted his brow.
“Are you ok?” He whispered, disregarding your desire for him to stay silent.
You tried to still your breathing.
He kissed your collarbone and looked up at you.
“Am I hurting you? You’re so tight.” He said, pulling out a bit.
“It’s fine,” You choked out, “It hurts, but I like it.”
He smiled, lustily, and pulled out completely, entering you again just as slowly, collecting your moisture. Your leg automatically wrapped around his waist, and he moved his hand to your hip, humming in approval. He was very slow, careful, tasting you, stretching you out for himself.
When he heard you moan and gasp, he picked up his pace a little bit. You grabbed his back, burying your face in his neck and let out a shaky breath as he squeezed your breast. He twisted your nipple between his fingers, hard enough to make you arch your back and tighten around him. You bit down on his shoulder and his hard cock twitched inside you.
You heard his mumbled oaths, as he pounded into you, his face near your ear.
He called your name.
And then again.
And then you couldn’t take it anymore and you moaned, kissing him urgently, letting him swallow your sounds. He gave your nipple one final flick and pressed his hand to your waist, pulling you so close to him - it almost hurt. You licked his lip and just as he slammed into you and stilled, spilling inside of you with a strained grunt, blinded by passion, you broke into a million pieces under him in a mind-twisting orgasm.
You lost your breath somewhere in between his demanding hands and lips, and couldn’t quite catch it again. You lay there, spent and slightly shaking, Bucky wrapped around you.
You were in his bed.
You tried to drag yourself back to reality.
Bucky was slumped over you, his hand still holding your waist. His breathing was laboured, and he pressed lazy, wet kisses to your exposed chest and neck.
You were scared to open your eyes and meet his because of course, something had to be said. Of course, you could always take him for round two… But no, no, you had to talk. Of course, this amazing experience didn’t explain anything to you - you were even more confused now, in love with his body, but still untrusting of his intentions.
“Y/N…” he whispered into your ear, shifting and laying beside you.
You didn’t respond.
He pulled you towards him and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, as he kissed the top of your head and nuzzled into your hair.
“Y/N.” He said again.
“Yeah, I’m here.” You said, trying to keep your voice level.
“Did that speed up your thought process?” He asked.
“I… might need some time for it to sink in.”
He didn’t say anything, only pulled you closer. You kissed his chest.
“Will you leave now?” He asked.
“I probably should.” You said, feeling his hand on your lower back, tracing random patterns, inching slowly down towards your naked bum.
“You think?” He hummed, cupping your bum, massaging it lightly.
“Yeah…” You said, arching your back and pressing into his motion, “In a second.”
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