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jobean12-blog · 2 years

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A Farmer’s Delight

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Farmer AU)

Word Count: 4,743

Summary: An ordinary Sunday morning runs turns into something much more extraordinary when you meet the Farmer down the road.

Author’s Note: So a friend shared this tik tok with me a while back and it gave me an idea for farmer Bucky. Watch the tik tok here I definitely went a little silly and fun with this and of course NEVER go home with any man you just met in the woods or anywhere (unless he’s Bucky Barnes haha) but for real, stay safe! Thank you everyone so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet @firefly-graphics Thank you bunches Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Fun flirting, silliness, fluff, cute animals, flirting, tension, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do that either), smut, implied oral (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

Every pound of your foot against the dirt road is like a harsh squeeze to your overly full bladder. You silently curse yourself for not using the bathroom before you left for the run and then give your almost empty water bottle a dirty look.

When you’re sure one more step will have you peeing your pants you make an abrupt stop and search your surroundings…there has to be somewhere you can pee.

You notice a small clearing behind some short bushes. If you squat low enough you should be hidden from at least everyone coming from behind you on the path. Anyone running the other way, well, they might get a nice glimpse of your ass.

You gingerly walk over, worrying any jolting movement will be disastrous, and give the area one more check. It looks clear and the only sounds you hear are the rustling leaves in the light breeze.

You pull down your shorts and panties, squatting low and positioning yourself so you won’t get pee all over you.

When the flow starts you sigh in relief, the pressure in your lower abdomen subsiding with every passing second…and the seconds seem to tick on and on until you’re just about done.

And then you hear it.

The loud rush and stamping of what sounds like hundreds of feet, all coming toward you from, of course, the way that you’re exposed.

“Oh shit!” you mutter, struggling to push out the last drips and shake dry.

You frantically try to dry by waving your ass around as the noise gets louder and just as you peak over the bushes you see a stampede of goats galloping toward you. You’re so shocked that you nearly lose your footing and fall over.

You manage to pull up your panties and you’re just about to get your shorts over your ass when a loud and booming voice shouts from behind the goats.

And then you see him.

His dark hair is long enough to hang loose at his broad shoulders and the closer he gets you can see his muscled chest move and flex as he chases after the goats. The sight temporarily stuns you and it isn’t until he spots you still crouched behind the bushes that you let out a shriek and make a run for it, shorts still half on.

“Wait!” You hear his deep voice. “I’m not going to…”

Whatever he was going to say is muffled by the hard ground slamming into your body as you fall, the blood whooshing in your ears and your heart beating rapidly.

You scramble to your feet again, the sound of cracking branches and crunching leaves close behind you.

“Come on,” you urge yourself with a violent rush.

You hear him again. “Are you hurt?”

You realize he’s too close and you’ll never get away so you make a sudden turn on your heal and rush the man with all your strength. You collide with his hard body, hoping to throw him off so you can get away but instead he cushions you against him and you both fall down in a heap of tangled limbs.

“Fuck,” you hear him grunt. “Are you ok doll?”

His gentle touch is surprisingly soothing and you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m…I’m ok,” you say quietly, pressing your hand to his chest to sit up.

Your fingers meet warm skin, the collection of hair along his chest soft under your touch even as his hard muscles strain. You realize he’s wearing denim overalls and no shirt. The image makes you swallow hard against the dryness in your mouth, your eyes lingering on the expanse of his exposed skin.

“James Barnes,” he says with a lopsided smirk, holding out his hand. “But you can call me Bucky.”

“Are these your goats?” you ask, looking past him to see that you’re now surrounded by what seems like hundreds of goats. “Are you a farmer?”

“Uh…well yeah. They got out of their pen this morning and I found them running along the path,” Bucky explains before his eyes drop to your exposed panties.

You suck in a breath and scramble back, yanking your shorts up the rest of the way.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “I cannot believe you saw me peeing!”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t really, mostly just saw you running away with your pants down,” he chuckles. “Must have really had to go though. Peeing in the woods is dangerous. Poison ivy…bugs…rogue goats.”

You stare at him, finally taking a moment to look at his face.

A definite mistake.

His perfectly shaped eyes are lined with dark and long lashes and the ocean blue color sparkles in the sunlight. His chiseled jaw is lined with a dark beard, the little patches of gray sprinkled throughout adding to his rugged handsomeness. His lips are pink and plush and when he smiles again you feel a tingling down your spine.

His humor is lost on you, your current embarrassment and twinge of fear overpowering your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, shaking yourself from your reverie. “How do you I know you aren’t going to kidnap me and kill me?”

“I’m not,” he states, clearly amused.

“And I’m just supposed to believe that! You saw my ass!”

“What’s that got to do with it doll?” he asks, holding out his hand to help you up after he stands. “It is quite nice though.”

You scoff and place your hand in his, squeaking when he lifts you to your feet with ease, the feel of his calloused fingertips sending a tremble through you.

“How many sheep do you have?” you ask as you survey the fluffy observers and ignore the heat of awareness at his touch.

“Oh, probably over two hundred. But this is only half of them. I like them to have a lot of open land so I keep them in two separate very large grazing areas.”

One of the sheep closest to you let’s out a loud and seemingly annoyed ‘baaaaaaaaaa.’

Bucky laughs and pats it’s head softly.

“Almost time to eat,” he says.

You start to walk back toward the path but when you put pressure on your left ankle you wince and cry out in pain.

Bucky immediately slides his arm around your waist and leans you against him.

“Hey now, easy there doll. Looks like you have a nasty sprain and your knee is all scratched up.”

The concern in his voice softens your features and you let yourself sag into his hold.

“I really am sorry,” he says quietly, his tone full of sincerity.

“It’s ok,” you sigh. “It’s not your fault. You were right. I shouldn’t be peeing in the woods by myself. I just had to go so bad.”

“I get it,” he answers, helping you hop back to the path. “How far are you from home?”

“A six-mile run and then a car drive!” you huff. “This is my first time running over here. I recently moved nearby and I usually just go around the neighborhood but needed a change of scenery.”

He nods in understanding.

“Well, you can’t run anywhere with your ankle,” he tsks. “But thankfully my house is just half a mile up the path there.”

He motions around the curve with a smile.

“Are you just going to take me there so you can tie me up in your basement.”

“Mm tempting,” he muses, his eyes bright with playful mischief. “But how about we go get you cleaned up and put some ice on that swelling.”

“Ok, ok,” you relent, giggling when he starts down the path and all of the sheep start to follow him.

“Look at them,” you say in wonder.

He stops to turn and glance behind him, the sheep halting the moment he does.

“Start walking again,” you say excitedly.

He takes a few more steps and the sheep start trotting again.

“Now stop,” you snort.

He stops and so do the sheep.

“Amazing,” you laugh. “They are so cute.”

“Thanks…” he trails off, looking at you expectantly.

“Oh right,” you mumble and introduce yourself.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says, repeating it. “I was about to call you sunshine…since ya know…”

“WHAT?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Your panties are that sunshiny yellow color…” he states, waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” you mutter as you continue hobble along.

It’s surprising and slightly disconcerting how comfortable you feel in his arms but if the goats trust him…

The sound of the goats hurrying behind keeps you smiling despite the discomfort in your knee and ankle. When you reach a small path that turns off the main road you look ahead and see a beautiful farmhouse, complete with a large porch and wooden fence.

“Do you live here all alone?” you ask.

“Just me and the animals,” he replies. “A lot of them.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when a large white and fluffy dog comes bounding off the porch, barking loudly and tail wagging wildly.

“Winter!” Bucky commands and the dog slows as he approaches and sits.

“Good boy. Now be careful,” he instructs, calling the dog forward.

Winter inches closer, his butt wiggling with barely contained excitement, and gently nudges your hand.

“Oh, he’s SO CUTE!” you gush, petting him.

Winter follows you and Bucky as you make your way past the fence and up the steps of the porch.

“Just wait here for me. Winter will stay with you,” Bucky says. “I’m going to get the goats back in their pen.”

“Ok,” you exhale, sitting gingerly on the porch swing.

Winter plops down and rests his head on your thigh.

“Such a good boy,” you coo, scratching behind his ears. “Your dad has to be a good guy…right?”

Winter’s brown eyes study you, soft and sweet.

Bucky returns and before you can stand he lifts you into his arms and carries you through the door to his house.

“Don’t people usually get married and then do that?” you giggle as he sets you down on the couch.

“Already planning our wedding?” he teases.

He walks into the kitchen, somehow managing to move his large body gracefully around, every so often glancing your way with a smile.

“Tea?” he asks. “Coffee?”

“Just water for now please,” you answer.

He comes back with a tray of snacks and a cold glass of water, setting it down on the coffee table before sitting on it and lifting your leg to rest on his knee.

“Sorry if this stings,” he whispers, patting your cut with disinfectant.

You suck your teeth but manage a smile when he gives you an apologetic look. Despite his obvious strength, his touch is delicate and he takes special care to clean your cut, apply antiseptic and cover it with a band aid.

“You’re all set,” he says, stroking his thumb over your thigh.

Your eyes fly to his and his gaze wanders over your face in an interested and appreciative way.

“I have some ice for your ankle,” he says, clearing his throat. “Sit back.”

You push yourself back against the pillows and move your leg to rest along the couch. He grabs another pillow and sets a towel down with the ice pack then lays your foot atop it.

“Thank you,” you murmur, watching him intently.

“Of course,” he says, as if it isn’t bizarre to have a complete stranger in his house, strewn across his couch.

His gives you another boyish smirk and you have to will yourself to disregard the sudden heat in your lower belly.

“How long have you lived here?”

He stands and walks back to the kitchen, calling Winter to follow.

“I grew up in the city. Loved it but as I got older I realized I wanted something quieter so I sold my apartment, moved out here, bought this farm and well…here I am, almost ten years later,” he explains.

“It’s beautiful.”

As you say the words you look around the space, noting the calm colors and the cozy feel of the thoughtfully placed furniture.

“What about you?” he asks, placing Winter’s food bowl down.

“My story is pretty similar actually, minus the farm…and goats,” you giggle. “Just needed a change of scenery. I like it here.”

You share a sympathetic look before he blurts out, “what can I make you to eat?”

“You’re gonna feed me too?” you ask with raised brows.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly if I didn’t, now would it?” he counters. “Besides, I’m always hungry.”

The hint of flirtatiousness in his voice leads to your next question.

“Did you just say something dirty to me?”

He throws his head back with laughter, pressing a hand to his chest before he settles with a shrug.

“Just stating the obvious. I love to eat.”

You let your eyes sweep over him approvingly. “I bet you do.”

“Now who’s flirting?” he fires back.

His study of you turns intense and you almost squirm on the couch.

“What were we talking about?” he asks, clearly distracted.

“Ummmmm…food!” you say, far too loudly.

“Right. Lunch! What can I get ya doll face?”

“Anything that’s easy is good,” you tell him.

He smiles and settles into the kitchen, pulling things from the cabinets and fridge. You let your eyes close for a few moments, relishing in the sound of the birds outside and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

Your eyes shoot open when something hits your lap and you let out a loud gasp, giggling when you see a white fluffy cat now seated on you.

“Hey there,” you say softly, scratching under her chin.

“I see you’ve met Alpine,” Bucky says, looking over. “She’s never getting up by the way.”

Alpine, seemingly aware of Bucky’s warning, kneads at your shirt before circling once and laying down in a round ball of fur.

“She’s beautiful. Like the cat version of Winter!”

“It is kind of funny how they look the same except Winter has the brown eyes and Alpine the blue. Both rescues,” he adds.

“Lucky them,” you say as the cat purrs contentedly in your lap.

“So, you don’t think I’m a serial killer anymore?” Bucky asks with a grin.

“Can’t be,” you answer with a yawn. “You wouldn’t have such sweet animals.”

He chuckles before carrying some plates past the couch and out the French doors at the far end of the large room. You try to sit up and see where he’s going but he’s lost from view.

When he returns your curiosity is written on your face and he explains, “back porch has a picnic table. It’s nice out so I figured we could sit there.”

He reaches for your hand and then wraps his arm around your waist to help you up. Alpine meows in annoyance but follows you out, Winter right behind.

The wooden picnic table is beautifully made and set with two plates and enough food fit for six.

“You weren’t kidding,” you mutter, taking in the spread.

“Nah doll. I’m a growing boy, need to eat,” he says, patting his stomach.

You scoff with a smile. “Says your six pack.”

“How do you know if I have a six pack?” he says, eyeing you playfully.

“Because of course you would. Look at the rest of you.”

“You’re welcome to look,” he croons, unbuckling one strap of his overalls.

He lets it fall just far enough that you get a peek at half his toned abs and the distinct V shape at his hip.

“That’s unfair,” you breathe out. “Might be eight.”

“Farming is hard work doll,” he states as he helps you sit and moves around to the other side of the table.

“Aren’t you going to buckle that back up?” you ask as your legs squeeze together under the table.

“Nah,” he answers as he serves you some food.

“Tease,” you mutter and look down at your plate. “Wow this looks good.”

He winks when you catch his eye again and the butterflies in your belly flutter to life.

“Fresh eggs from my chickens and the vegetables are from my garden.”

“You really are busy,” you mumble through a delicious mouth full. “And when did you learn to cook?”

You sit for a long time, talking and laughing and nibbling at the food, unaware as the day moves on and the sun starts it’s descent in the sky.

With a yawn and a stretch, you ask for the time, your eyes widening when he says it’s almost four pm.

“Shit,” you groan. “I have to get back to my car.”

“You can’t walk back,” Bucky states with a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Then what am I going to do?” you ask, popping your shoulder with sass.

He laughs, giving you a challenging look.

“You’ll stay here until tomorrow. Then I’ll take you back to your car on the tractor.”

“Why can’t you do that now?”

“You can’t drive on that ankle; you need to rest more.”

“Are you a doctor now too?”

“Doll,” he warns, standing to gather the plates. “You’re staying. It’s the safest.”

“Staying in some man’s house that I just met is safe!” you argue even though it’s clear by your expression that you’re just busting his balls.

“We’ve already spent half the day together and don’t worry I don’t bite,” he simpers.

He grabs a few things and rounds the table, leaning down close to your ear, his warm breath caressing your skin when he whispers, “unless you want me to.”

You shiver at contact, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to keep your moan quiet.

“Smooth Bucky,” you joke, ogling his ass as he walks back into the house.

“We’ll see…” you hear him call back.

Once the table is cleaned off he comes back and slides his arms under you, lifting you and cradling you against his chest.

“I can walk you know.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” he responds.

“You are warm,” you whisper, toying with the one buckle of his overalls.

“Winter and Alpine think so too,” he says. “They are always sleepin’ on me.”

“Can’t blame them…”

Your words are sleepy and muddled as your eyes start to droop closed. “I’m so sleepy.”

“It’s been a long day,” Bucky says. “A nap will do you good.”

“Mm a nap,” you murmur and snuggle into his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

When you wake two hours later the sun is low in the sky, painting it in hues of pink and orange. You’re curled up on the couch, Alpine settled on your hip and Winter laying on the floor just under you.

“Hey guys,” you say, greeting them both with alternating pets. “Where’s your dad?”

“Right here,” Bucky says and you sit up to find him.

He’s walking down the hallway in nothing but his towel, eyes dancing with mirth and flirt as he watches your lips part and hears your sharp intake of breath.

“Why are you naked?” you ask him, forcing your eyes to stay on his face.

“I’m not,” he smirks. “How was your nap?”

“Nap…?” you question, letting your eyes fall to his bare chest.

“I new it was eight,” you mutter, falling back to the couch with a huff.

You can hear him chuckle before his head appears over the back of the couch.

“Do you want a shower?” he asks. “Or something to eat?”

“I can’t tell if you’re genuinely asking me these questions or you’re just using some sort of code for dirty talk.”

“Take it however you want doll face.”

He walks away back down the hall and you look at Alpine, mimicking Bucky’s words with mock annoyance.

Opting for a shower you turn the water on hot and stand under it for a long time, bearing most of your weight on your good leg. You will yourself to think of anything other than Bucky but the image of him shirtless and wet is burned onto your brain.

“Fuck,” you grumble, resting your head along the tiles.

After washing and rinsing you leave the shower and grab a towel, wrapping yourself in the fluffy warmth.

“Even his towels are amazing,” you say to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

You look around the bathroom, realizing the only clothes you have are dirty running shorts, a tank and a sports bra, not to mention your ‘sunshiny’ yellow panties.

With a groan you quietly open the door to the bathroom and call to Bucky. He jogs down the hallway, now dressed in a tee shirt and fits him divinely and sweatpants that hang low on his hips.

“You ok doll?” he asks, his concern clear.

“I have no clean clothes,” you say.

His dons his signature lopsided grin and holds up one long, thick finger. Within seconds he reappears with a folded shirt and shorts.

“Hope this ok.”

You take the clothes with a thanks and close the door. When you’re dry you throw the shirt over your head, swimming in the fabric and his scent. Your eyelashes kiss your cheeks with your deep inhale and you run your hands down your body.

“This is bad,” you say to yourself as you slip on the shorts.

You find Bucky in the living room, laying across the couch with Alpine on his chest.

His gaze runs down the length of your body and he keeps staring, the intensity of it growing.

“What?” you whisper.

“I just met you…less than twenty-four hours ago.”

He gently lifts Alpine off his chest and sits up. “I shouldn’t feel like this.”

“It’s crazy, I know,” you say, feeling grateful you aren’t the only one feeling the deep connection.

“I like you in my clothes,” he whispers as he stands from the couch. “Maybe a little too much.”

You look down at his shirt and fiddle with the hem, suddenly feeling a slight twinge of nerves.

“How’s your ankle?” he asks, stepping closer and tucking his fingers under your chin to lift your focus back to him.

“Ok, just a little sore,” you answer.

“Probably shouldn’t put too much pressure on it,” he says, close enough now that his chest brushes yours with every breath.

“Probably not,” you say as your fingers slide down his muscled arms.

His hands fall to your waist, his thumbs slipping under your shirt and brushing against your skin. You lean into him, closing any space left between you.

You can feel his heart thumping wildly beneath your fingertips and the blue of his eyes blazes.

“Take me to bed,” you whisper, feeling as if you’ll burst out of your skin if he doesn’t touch you.

His arms slip under your ass and he lifts you up, powering down the hall into his bedroom. The door slams behind him and he gently eases you to your feet. You lock eyes and you swear you’re falling.

And then you literally are as he throws you onto his bed, his expression quickly turning to one of concern when he remembers you sore ankle.

“Doll?” he worries, leaning over you. “I got carried away. Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all,” you assure him, brushing the hair from his face. “Don’t worry I won’t break.”

He takes the hint and presses his lips to yours, sliding his arm under you and pulling you closer. The kiss is on fire and it takes everything in you to finally pull away for air.

“Clothes off,” you murmur, pushing on his chest.

He sits up and straddles you, taking off his shirt. You reach up to touch him and in the same motion he has the shirt over your head, his eyes glazing over as he stares.

“Do you even realize how sexy you are?” he asks with a groan, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your back arches and you lean into his touch, rolling your hips against him. He releases your breasts only so he can push the sweatpants down his thick thighs before tugging on your shorts.

He kisses you again, his beard scratching along your skin and sending goosebumps racing across it. Your hands dive into his hair, tightening when his fingertips glide down the soft curve of your waist and between your legs.

“Fuck doll, you’re soaked,” he moans with a teasing touch.

He slowly pushes a finger inside you, his eyes falling shut at the feel of you warm and wet around him. A second finger joins the first and he pumps them in and out, your hips meeting every thrust of his hand.

Your fingernails curl into his broad shoulders, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and when his thumb circles your clit your stomach tightens until the tension breaks like a wave, your walls squeezing around his fingers.

Without giving you time to catch your breath he pulls his fingers free and takes your injured leg to rest it over his shoulder, the action spreading you open for him. He pushes inside you, his teeth gritted at how tight and swollen you are.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “you feel incredible.”

His movements start off gentle, the slow glide of his cock driving you insane. You dig your fingers into the muscles of his back, urging him to move faster and he does. He angles your hips and pushes deeper, every thrust of his hips threatening to send you over the edge again.

He slams into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall, the sound barely registering over your pleas for more. Your walls begin to tighten and he swells inside of you before you cry out his name with your release.

He follows only moments later, his hips jerking against you and his face falling to your neck.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

You lay there, loving the weight of him as your body practically melts into the mattress. He gently sits up on his arm, his fingertips ghosting across your warm skin and down to your ankle.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks.

“I’m more than ok,” you answer. “Fucking fabulous.”

He laughs at that and gives you one more kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a soft cloth, walking purposefully toward the bed and letting his eyes linger on your sweaty skin. His cock bounces as he starts to grow hard again and you let out a moan.

“I want you again,” he says like it’s a no brainer and then falls next to you on the bed, his touch delicate as he presses the cloth between your legs.

“But first I’m going to taste you doll.”

Your body slides along the soft sheets, the morning sun warm on your bare skin and the feel of something warm and furry pressing against your legs. With a languid stretch you open your eyes and look to the edge of the bed to see Winter sleeping peacefully, his large body leaning into your bottom half and Alpine curled up on top of your legs.

Bucky’s side of the bed is empty but there’s a small note on the pillow that reads, “I’ll be outside in the yard when you wake up,” and it has a small heart drawn below.

You take your time getting up, rousing the animals who protest with even slower movements and loud yawns. Grabbing Bucky’s shirt, you throw it over your body and go to the bathroom to freshen up.

When you walk into the kitchen and look through the window over the sink you see him out in the pen with the goats. Calling for Winter you walk outside, admiring the view of Bucky in nothing but a pair of jeans and his boots.

Winter barks and Bucky turns around. He has a small white goat tucked under his arm and as he saunters toward you it’s hard to restrain your giggles.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he croons, dipping his head to kiss the corner of your mouth. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” you answer, reaching out to pet the goat.

“And your ankle?” he asks, looking down.

“Not too bad this morning. Not as sore and definitely less swollen.”

“Good doll face” he smiles. “Now let’s get some breakfast in ya before I take ya back to bed.”

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