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rainydaycafe · 2 years

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Like Real People Do

Lawyer!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Original Female Character

Summary: James never thought about happiness too much, but stumbling into a bakery one evening promises to sweet his life in a new way with a bakery with a soft smile and kind words

Warnings: Well, James has a terrible relationship with his dad so jerk!dad alert, but other than that it’s sweet feelings and insecure!Bucky.

The dream of becoming an author, or even an editor at a nice publishing company was something Emilia had really banked on but eventually let go.

It had been her dream to have some physical representation of all of her thoughts and feelings. To have those be something people clung onto and enjoyed to read. Though, the older she got, the less she felt the pull towards that aspiration and the more she felt set on something else.

It was like an itch she could not quite ever scratch.

It was as though said itch had not been scratched since her dad had died when she was 15. The memories of her father teaching her to bake with such love and patience put through cupcakes, danishes, and just about anything he knew to bake. A thick recipe book in his handwriting was always open on the counter where he’d point and explain things to her, watching as she absorbed the information like a sponge.

But when he died, it was as though she couldn’t bear the thought of turning an oven on until her brother had taken her to grief counseling where it was okay to be sad, and it was okay to feel confused and all around lost about the loss of the person who made up half of her DNA suddenly being gone.

Nothing about your parents being gone is easy, and it never got easier but she got used to the dull hum she felt in her chest when she thought about him out of the blue. Most times she liked to believe that when that happened it was because he was thinking of her, too.

She did her time, and she got an undergraduate degree in English lit and she was proud of herself for reading endless amounts of Chaucer and analyzing countless poems from Keats but she needed more. She wanted more.

She wanted her dad to be somehow in her life, even if he was gone in all forms aside from her memories.

So she worked, and she worked hard as an editor for a small local publishing company in Colorado, but the days left her exhausted and the clients were less than kind.

However, she had gotten an idea in her head.

An idea that had been a fleeting thought that she hadn’t been able to let go of. It was always in the back of her mind, and she couldn’t quite let it go and chalk it up to a pipedream because it made her body thrum with excitement of the sheer potential of it all.

Which is how endless amounts of research and emails to leasing ads led her to Newburyport, Massachusetts one chilly morning receiving the key from the man selling with her brother, Blaine by her side.

After much deliberation, she had chosen to use the money her father had left for her to buy the bakery as well as get everything set up to have it up to par.

It was a two story brick building with the setup on the bottom meant for business while the second floor was an apartment which was wildly convenient. Overall, the place needed a bit of work in terms of getting it ready for business, but it was something she felt so proud and honored to have so she didn’t mind it at all.

The apartment was led up to by a flight of stairs in the back kitchen which led to the front door of her loft which was straight out of a dream.

With the coat closet directly to the right with a half restroom adjacent to the front door, the kitchen was directly to the left of the door. The kitchen was spacious and open, looking over the dining area where she had barstools set up facing the counter and a longer, light colored dining room table.

The table was before the living room area where Emilia had a sectional couch Blaine had insisted on buying her alongside the rug he insisted matched the entire feeling her home gave off. Blaine insisting on choosing the couch meant it was expensive, plush, and perfectly matched with the rug.

She and Blaine had set up the couch so it was facing the left wall with the TV mounted onto the wall after much struggle. Directly in front of the living room area was a large window where she had set up her desk where she found herself settling on long nights writing down bursts of ideas.

In the corner was a flight of stairs which led up to her loft bedroom, a dream she had only ever kept in the back of her mind but found fulfilled with the purchase of the building.

The stairs curved right where to the left was a nook Emilia had set up with short bookshelves and a couple of lovely love seats. To the right of the stairs was where she had her bedroom area, the headboard of her bed was pushed against the furthest left wall with a wardrobe against the far right wall.

To the left of her bed was an open closet area before it led into her restroom.

It had taken months and months to get everything right and to get it all to feel akin to home. Bookshelves here, record player underneath the stair area, and getting the little things fixed around such as having blankets in the right places and art hung on the right walls.

But after much work, it all felt like it was meant to be where it was and that’s all she had ever wanted.

_________________

James’ life was somber.

At least, that’s how he’d go about describing it if he were in need of providing an adjective to give a solid foundation regarding his life.

There was nothing particularly invigorating about his life, and he found himself feeling as though he were running on a monotonous treadmill that led him to feeling as though he were in a vicious cycle.

Sure he had a lot going for him at the age of 26, and he was well aware of that, but it wasn’t enough. It left him feeling empty after a long day but he couldn’t complain because in retrospect he was living an absolutely fulfilling and successful life.

An affluent upbringing with his powerful parents consisting of a litigator father who was a force to be reckoned with and a mother who was a well respected pediatric surgeon. Their life was more than comfortable and they oozed the upper class family feeling with every opportunity.

Their first and only son, James Buchanan Barnes, was their pride in joy as he excelled in lacrosse throughout his schooling, but was also academically gifted which the Royce Academy, a school which his parents dumped over $40,000 in tuition into, helped develop and turn him into a properly educated member of society.

They had the money, the status, the picture perfect life, but what else did they have?

Two successful parents meant two busy parents. Byron, his father, spent more time cooped up in his offices lining up this or that, or working up a case file. Victoria, his mother, practically lived at the hospital sometimes, though she was home more often, it wasn’t by much.

He had grown more than accustomed to spending evenings alone, and simply shrugging with a soft smile when other parents would ask about his own when they were missing from yet another varsity lacrosse game.

Eventually it came time to choose a major for his undergraduate degree and his father had led him into the study for a serious conversation.

When asked about his true interests, James knew better than to mention his appreciation for photography after his father had smashed his Canon AE-1 35mm after having received an A- on a chemistry midterm.

James had opted to tell him he wasn’t sure but he was debating between criminal law and business which earned a firm nod from his father.

His father wasn’t someone you argued with.

Byron continued on to tell James, “You will continue the family tradition and carry on the family legacy. You can come work with me at my firm or at another firm I approve of,” He told James who nodded and thanked him before heading up to his room.

He wished he could’ve said something, anything, but after years of getting his ass handed to him verbally and sometimes physically, he knew better than to test the waters with his father.

So he didn’t, and he shut his mouth and appreciated the fact that his father paid for his tuition, his housing, and other expenses without batting an eye for 6 years of school after high school.

Years of private school from preschool through high school went into breeding what Byron Barnes considered to be a mediocre man, at best.

James had managed to work hard enough to finish his undergrad degree in criminal law in three years after having successfully obtained enough dual enrollment credits in high school to have him enter as a sophomore during his freshman year of college.

Graduating from his father’s alma mater, Yale, by 21 and obtaining high marks on the LSAT meant he got his top choice of law school which was Columbia University’s law school where he passed the bar exam with flying colors.

By 24 he was working with Bryer’s and Barnes after his father had secured him a junior partner position before he could interview for one anywhere else.

He was too afraid to say no, so he took it.

So here he was, 26, successful, working for his father who was more domineering than ever but he was successful, all things considered.

He had a beautiful apartment with a beautiful view, a nice car, a well paid salary, expensive suits, nice shoes, and everything he could ever want.

But he felt empty and as though he were just going through the motions and attempting to avoid getting yelled at by his father at another faculty meeting in front of everyone. By this point he was certain his father got a deep sense of satisfaction from humiliating him in front of everyone when he got the chance.

It was early on that he had schooled his emotions around his father and he could take the verbal beating and nod before giving a smile to everyone else staring at him to let them know he was alright, and that it was all fine.

Most days he walked out of the office feeling defeated and as though he were on the verge of either crying or screaming, but he never did. He instead let himself memorize all of the flaws he had, and how they impacted his work and why he was such a disaster which led to his father acting how he did.

__________________

“This is garbage!” Walter yelled while standing from his mahogany desk, “Rewrite this, immediately, and have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon. I will not be humiliated because you are handing in substandard work!” Slamming down the file, he gave James a disgusted look and James nodded before grabbing the file and heading out.

Ignoring the glances, he looked at the clock and felt elated because it was time to leave.

Heading into his office, he quickly collected his items and placed them into his satchel before saying goodbye to his assistant Miley and the receptionist, Lyra who had wished him a nice day.

Fishing out his keys after the elevator ride, he remembered he had parked down the street and around the corner because the parking lot had been closed for repaving and the closer parking spots along the sidewalk had been taken.

Walking, he forced himself to take deep breaths because he had worked so hard on forming the outline for his father’s most recent case and obtaining all of the information but it had still not been enough.

Nothing was ever enough, and he was sure that reflected on the way he saw himself as a person which was less than kind and more bad than good.

Crossing the street, he glanced into the shops he passed and smiled a bit at them before turning the corner and breathing a sigh of relief as he saw his car but as he reached his car, he looked up and saw a bookstore directly in front of where his car was parked, but to the right was something else.

The sign read Rainy Day Bakery which caught his attention.

He should get home, he should. He should work on redoing the argument but he had been craving something sweet so before he knew it he was crossing the street and looking into the place.

Pulling open the door, a bell chimed above his head and he looked around to see it was painted a very light yellow and it felt so cozy, and warm.

There were a few richly colored wooden tables around the sides and in the front had two large display cases side by side with the register to the right before a longer counter with a few stools there for seating.

Behind the front counter was a larger counter with other items such as an espresso machine but before he could see the rest, the double doors flew open and out came a woman holding a tray with both hands smiling at him.

He felt as though he were a huge goof because he was taken aback by the girl, but he tried to play it off.

But she didn’t say anything, she only smiled more when he returned the smile and she walked behind the display case where she filled the designated section with what seemed to be red velvet cupcakes.

James looked at his options but he couldn’t choose between the strawberry and cream cheese danish and the blueberry muffin.

“Let me just put this back in the kitchen and I’ll help you, okay?” She asked softly and James nodded mutely because she could have been the human embodiment of calm.

This entire place was the embodiment of calm, and it felt like a soft hug but when she returned he hadn’t chosen yet but he was starving.

“I- I can’t decide between the blueberry muffin and the danish,” He explained sheepishly and she smiled at him in understanding, “Well if it’s any consolation, they’re both delicious,”

James nodded and he knew he should be eating something that had protein because he had skipped lunch in favor of finishing the outline but he was too deep into this to leave.

Plus he didn’t want to leave because he wanted the girl behind the counter to smile at him forever but he quickly snapped himself out of it and opted for the Danish because he thought he was being annoying with all of this internalized debating.

“Wonderful choice…. Did you want a coffee to go alongside it?” She asked and James found himself nodding before asking for a vanilla cappuccino since he thought it’d compliment the danish well and she nodded dutifully.

She gestured with her hands as she told him to take a seat, but instead of sitting in the back corner as he would usually do anywhere else he sat himself in one of the stools alongside the counter and watched as she got everything together.

He didn’t know her name but he was sure it would be beautiful.

She wore a dark green knit sweater with a french tuck with a rose gold necklace, black jeans, and casual sneakers.

Did he blatantly stare at her ass when she turned around to the espresso machine? Yes, but he couldn’t help himself either.

Her chestnut brown hair was a bit below her shoulders in a half up half down way clipped in the back with a yellow clip. She was on the small side, shorter than him by quite a bit but he felt her sense of being was bigger than his.

Sooner than later, she walked over to him and placed his items in front of him, “I really hope you like them.” She told him sincerely and he found himself asking for her name because he needed to know, even if they never spoke again he just had to know.

“Emilia,” She told him, and it fit her so perfectly that when she asked him for hers he said, “James Buchanan Barnes,” instead of just James and he felt like such a fool-

“Oh, full names? Well then I am Emilia Mattea Pearson,” Emilia told him with a grin and he couldn’t help but grin back because he was stupid but she was as sweet as can be.

Looking down at the danish, he picked it up to take a bite and it was probably the most delicious thing to ever grace the Earth and when he looked up she was watching him with a small smile.

Swallowing, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, “That’s really delicious,” James told her, and the way she lit up…. Well he’d tell her everything she ever made was delicious if he were ever given the chance again.

She left him to eat, and he ate and sipped his coffee as he looked around and ignored the satchel on the seat next to him and all of the weight it left him with.

But before he knew, Emilia was returning with something else on a plate and she gently set it on the counter and slid it to him before explaining, “I figured you were hungry for something other than just a pastry considering you’re dressed so formally so I can only imagine you came here from an office-” She stopped herself and blushed, “Sorry, I’m rambling,”

Emilia flushed and this guy was so handsome and he had been so kind she couldn’t help herself but James shook his head.

“No, no. Don’t- thank you. I did come from work and I am hungry, but I couldn’t stop myself from coming here, you know? But don’t apologize for talking, I like it,” James told her and Emilia nodded, both of them looking at one another before James broke eye contact and looked at what she had brought him.

“It’s a turkey and cheese croissant,” She told him and James smiled for what felt like the hundredth time since he had come into this place, but he didn’t mind it all too much either.

Before long, he had finished his danish and coffee before tucking into his turkey and cheese croissant which didn’t last long either. He ate while watching Emilia who walked back and into the back kitchen and came out, wiped down counters, and did things while there was music playing in the background softly.

She let him eat in silence without bothering him, but when she saw he was done she quickly collected his dishes and thanked him for eating there but he told her the pleasure was all his.

Standing, he collected his satchel and slung it over his shoulder, noting how the memory of his father bearing down on him about his work made it feel heavier, but he ignored it in favor of retrieving his wallet and meeting Emilia in front of the register.

Paying, he handed her a $20 bill and dumped the change into the tip jar with a shrug, “It’s the least I can do for such a lovely pre-dinner meal,” James told her and Emilia handed him his receipt with a soft smile

Her smile shouldn’t be that welcoming, but it was.

Everything about her was welcoming and James found himself wanting to run directly into it after having met her only an hour before, but he couldn’t help himself. She was something else entirely.

But this was something he couldn’t risk, he couldn’t risk ruining things and leaving her damaged because he was damaged goods and not worth the effort.

Readjusting his bag, he nodded to her before saying, “Bye, Emilia. Thank you,” Though her words felt heavy on his tongue, Emilia nodded, “Thank you, James. I hope you come by again?” She spoke as more of a question at the end of her sentence and though he knew he should stay away and stop himself from becoming attached he found himself nodding.

“Of course. I’ll be back… Maybe tomorrow? Uh- it’s Friday and I get off early so I can come by tomorrow for lunch if that’s okay,” He stuttered out.

“That would be great. I’ll have new items tomorrow, I promise,”

One final glance at her and he bid her goodbye once more at the door before leaving, not noticing the way Emilia watched him look both ways before crossing the street and entering a sleek black car before pulling away from the curb.

But as he did pull away, and even though his satchel sat there with work to be redone, he found himself smiling a bit as he drove down the roads towards his apartment.

_______________

By late afternoon, James hadn’t come around and while she knew getting out of work early meant different things for different people, she had expected to see him coming around at about 2 or 3pm, but he hadn’t so she decided to get her mind off of it and handle her customers.

But when the bakery was empty, she found herself thinking of James and how he seemed so subdued in an abnormal way which let her know something was bothering him.

It might be friends, family, relationships, or even just life in and of itself, but something had James so down.

Though it did make her feel better when she remembered she had managed to make him smile a few times, a few sincere times and that was enough to make her feel as though she had been some type of help after all.

It was around 6:30pm and she was thinking about closing since it had been slowing down but when she looked up from the display case she saw James pulling the door open looking exhausted. He looked as though he was ready to just sink into the ground beneath him.

He walked in and took a deep breath before walking over to the display case where Emilia watched him quietly but carefully, worried about him because he seemed so sad today.

“Can I have the caramel praline cheesecake, please?” He asked and Emilia nodded, gesturing for him to sit down. She watched as he practically dragged his feet over to where he sat the day prior, setting his satchel down with a dull thump onto the stool next to his own.

It was quiet while she got everything ready, making sure to make him an extra hot vanilla caramel macchiato, quickly setting it in front of him before getting a good look at him face to face.

“Hi James,” She said as he took his first sip, smiling a bit before looking at her and saying, “Hi Emilia, how are you?”

“I am good. Better now that you’re here,” Emilia told him sincerely and he froze a bit at the comment, not expecting it but he tried to play it off as best he could. Was she really glad he was there or was she just being polite?

She had to just mean it in a polite way.

“How are you?” Emilia asked him and watched as he thought for a moment before answering.

“Long day at work,” James responded and Emilia felt as though maybe he did want to talk about it, but he needed to be prompted to do so, so she did.

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener, I promise,”

He took a bite of the cheesecake and a sip of coffee before nodding, “Uh- I was supposed to be out of the office by 2:00 or 2:30 at the latest but my boss was unhappy with my rewritten argument outline and work so he made me rewrite it again, and then edit it again,” He explained, remembering the words his father had spoken word for word.

“I simply do not understand what I paid so much in tuition for if you are incompitent and unable to form a clear and concise argument- even after I told you to rewrite it because it was weak.” Byron yelled and James lowered his head.

“You have the audacity to hand me this piece of utter garbage as rewritten work? This is shit. I expect this level of work from a fifth grade, not a 26 year old attorney! You embarrass me!” Byron continued, “Did you even try?”

James looked up and nodded, “I did try. I tried a lot. My best.” He responded but his father slammed his hand on the desk and shook his head, “Then your best isn’t enough. Rewrite it, get it done better, make sure it isn’t complete shit before even coming near me with that again…. And you can forget about getting out early if you’re going to fuck around,”

It had taken another try, albeit only a few edits but his father had only pointed to the door when he approved of the final file.

“I’m so sorry, James,” Emilia said, stepping forward a bit, “I’m sure your work was spectacular…. Where do you work?”

Swallowing his mouthful of coffee, he gestured lightly with his head back, “Bryer’s and Barnes law firm,” Looking up, he saw the recognition of his last name and the firm’s name and she tilted her head.

“I’m guessing your last name being Barnes isn’t just a coincidence?”

James shook his head with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Not at all. My dad is the current owner and head partner, but it was started by my great great grandfather way back when,” He told her and she understood.

“So it’s a family tradition to be a lawyer?” Emilia asked and she suddenly remembered the sandwich she had for James in the kitchen and she felt excited to have him try it since she was experimenting a bit with his taste buds.

James nodded again, “It is. But considering the way my father reacts to my work, I would say the natural knack for being an attorney skipped a generation,” James finished the sentence with a humorless laugh, but Emilia didn’t like how he used himself as the butt of a joke.

“Don’t say that. I’m sure you’re a fantastic attorney and I’m sure you excel. Parents are… parents are tough sometimes.”

Looking up, he saw she looked worried and that was the last thing he wanted so he nodded in agreement, “I’ll take your opinion to heart,” He told her as he patted his chest with his right hand.

She grinned and told him she’d return before she quickly went to the back to warm up the sandwich she had made for him in the broiler, leaving James to watch her as she left.

It had been an awful day and he wanted nothing more than to burrow into his bed and never leave again, simply withering away but at least it was Friday. Plus, Emilia had looked so happy to see him, so it was like a balancing act of that day.

Soon enough, she returned and she pushed another sandwich towards him, explaining that it was a mozzarella and tomato sandwich with avocado on a nice french baguette.

“You treat me too well,” James said pulling the plate towards him and Emilia bounced on her heels watching him take a bite which of course, was heaven on Earth, and he told her as such.

She clapped her hands together but was distracted by the bell above the door ringing and in walked a man and his son, his son quickly ran over to the display case and Emilia excused herself for a second as she went over to tend to her customers.

James sat and watched, smiling to himself despite his awful day as he watched Emilia’s soft mannerisms with them and the way she was patient with the kid who couldn’t make up his mind about the brownie or the cupcake.

Emilia chatted with the father who told her they had spent the afternoon at the park since he had gotten 100% on his spelling test which compelled Emilia to slide in a chocolate chip cookie for the kid as a reward before closing the box.

She was just so… kind and he couldn’t help but compare Emilia to something cozy and welcoming.

Soon enough though, they were on their way and Emilia watched them with a bit of a sad look but soon enough, it was gone and she was back standing in front of him, watching him but he didn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze.

“How do you like being an attorney?” Emilia asked and James pondered for a bit before answering, “It’s a good job, it pays well and it lets me have a comfortable life,” He said, and Emilia knew it sounded rehearsed so she shook her head.

“No, I mean how do you like it? Do you like what you do?” She asked before realizing it was really quite the personal question and she apologized, “Oh- I’m so sorry, that’s such a personal question,”

But James assured her it was fine, “Don’t worry, it’s not. You’re uh- you’re easy to talk to… As for my job, it's fine. I don’t dislike it, it fills my days up with things to do so it’s alright,”

Before silence could consume them, Emilia’s phone started ringing on the counter behind her and she excused herself when she saw it, said Blaine, quickly answering it as she moved away from James to be polite.

He tried to not listen, but even though he did listen for a bit of it he didn’t really understand but Emilia told whoever was on the other end about a couch and a rug before they said goodbye.

That is what really stuck to him.

“Yes I will take care of it, Blaine. I love you too, bye,” She said before she hung up and set her phone down.

Did she have a boyfriend? Of course she had a boyfriend,

There was no way that anyone like Emilia; so sweet, so pretty, so… perfect, would be single. Especially with all of the customers she got on a daily basis, she was bound to be involved with someone.

As she turned back to James who had set down his sandwich and seemed to be full of thoughts.

“Is that um-” James tried to stutter out, but Emilia was patient as she rested along the counter behind her, “Was that your boyfriend, I mean,” He said as he gestured towards her phone.

Emilia laughed.

She let out a genuine laugh, but James knew it was directed towards him or even at him as he let himself listen to her laugh so hard she was wheezing for a second before she regained her composure and stood up straight.

“Sorry, sorry,” She said as she huffed a breath before she explained, “No. That was my brother, Blaine. He helped me move here and he left a sweatshirt that I’m holding hostage because I want to keep it,”

It all made sense and James felt the slightest bit foolish for ever asking the question.

“Sorry, I’m being nosey,” James said as he picked up his sandwich, but Emilia wasn’t letting him apologize as she waved him off with a smile.

“Not at all, being nosey is how you get to know people,” She told him as she reached for a rag behind her, “But no, I don’t have a boyfriend? Do you? Have a girlfriend or boyfriend?”

Emilia was twisting it as James chewed his sandwich before answering, “No. No girlfriend,” He affirmed, smiling back at Emilia looked satisfied with the answer before she busied herself with fixing the display case as he finished off the sandwich.

Before long James was finished paying and found himself standing in front of Emilia with the counter separating them but the smile Emilia sent him made him feel close to her.

“I’ll see you next week?” Emilia asked, resting her hands on the counter, pushing herself up a bit and James nodded quickly.

“I’ll be here. I promise,” He confirmed before he sent one final smile to her with a wave before heading out to go to his apartment where he would spend the rest of his evening alone with his trusty confidant: Alpine.

But somehow it seemed less lonely because he had something akin to friendship, right?

_________________

He tried to stay away.

It wasn’t logical, perhaps, but he couldn’t allow himself to get attached.

He was something to be held at arm’s length, and he had been shown that his entire life so it was only a matter of time until that was demonstrated and he ruined things.

James knew he had a habit of making a mess of things, and it was represented in every aspect of his life from his work to the way his father treated him. All of the wrongdoings he had once done always came back to bite him, and he couldn’t fathom hurting Emilia because he was too much of a mess.

As much as he found himself wanting to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner with Emilia he stayed away.

That was until Wednesday.

He had been avoiding it at all costs. He couldn’t go back in there and allow himself to find comfort in a person because it somehow made leaving all that much more dreadful.

It was dangerous to become attached to someone like James.

But when he had been eviscerated by his father for mentioning an alternate route on an argument he couldn’t fathom going home alone again.

He was finally able to escape work at nearly 7 after hours and hours of fake smiles he passed onto everyone like a robot. In a reflection of his inner turmoil, the sky was opened up and drowning the world in cold rain that had him soaked in no time.

He let his feet take him where they would as he jogged and loosened his tie with the hand not holding the briefcase he could cease to never see again because he felt his tie was threatening to choke him, but as if the universe were attempting to body slam him into an early grave: when he tugged on the cafe door it was locked.

Sighing, he wiped rain out of his eyes and sighed, but Emilia was suddenly pulling open the door, taking hold of his hand as she ushered him in before locking the door behind them once more.

“You’re soaked,” She said as she reached out to touch his hair, “Come on, I- I closed but you can- Jesus, just come on.”

Allowing her to take him by the hand, she led him around the counter he had been missing from for days, through the kitchen which was spotless, and up the stairs to a front door but all James was attached to was the fact that she was holding his hand.

They entered what had to be her apartment, and he took it all in as he stood in his soaked shoes before quickly kicking them off.

“I’ll be right back,” She told him dutifully before heading to her bedroom leaving James to look around her apartment.

The only way he could describe it was with the word “warm”. It was so well decorated, and it had such beautiful lighting with everything fitting together in a way his didn’t.

Where his apartment looked like it was straight out of a living magazine, top end furniture with everything expensive, hers just looked like an actual home with someone with a soul living there.

But she was soon returning with a bright smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything that will fit you,” She apologized to him, “Well I do have shirts but not pants.”

“Don’t apologize.” He told her as he took the towel she offered, letting her usher him to one of the barstools as he wiped off his face.

Much to his surprise, she began drying off his hair with a genuine softness he hadn’t encountered since God knows when. But soon enough she was collecting the towels and letting them dry on one of the chairs.

“I could’ve just grabbed a couple of kitchen towels,” She said in retrospect as she walked around the counter, “But the bathroom ones are so much softer,”

James grinned at her, “I’m sorry for showing up after closing looking like a homeless dog,” He apologized sheepishly but Emilia wasn’t hearing any of it as she waved him off.

“No, I’m glad you’re here. It makes me glad to know you’re alive and that you haven’t forgotten about me,” She informed him as she grabbed a couple of oven mitts from a drawer and put them on, opening the oven door to take something out.

Her dinner.

James felt so impolite and out of place, he began apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry for just barging in on you during dinner,” He said as he tried to stand, Emilia reaching over the counter to gently pull him back down, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,”

“Stop apologizing, I’m glad you’re here, okay? I like spending time with you,” She insisted with a smile that James was certain could derail a burglary, “I was downstairs because I forgot to shut off the register’s computer but it was good timing because I was there for your arrival,”

She gathered two plates alongside a serving spoon with a deft skill developed only through repetition before asking, “I made baked ziti. Do you like ziti?”

“I’ll eat anything you make,” He confessed, a blush coating his cheeks but Emilia just preened at his comment, serving him a healthy portion before handing it over to him before doing the same for herself.

They were soon eating, James barely containing a moan at how delicious it tasted.

“Why are you standing up?” He finally asked as Emilia was standing across from him, but she just shrugged with an easy smile.

“I like standing while eating sometimes, it’s good for digestion or something,” She told him as she gestured with her fork, “Do you like it?”

He nodded vigorously, “It’s delicious. I- thank you, Emilia. I’m sorry I’ve been…. Absent,” He apologized as he looked down towards the yellow plate before him, spearing a few pieces of pasta with his fork.

“Don’t apologize for working and being otherwise occupied. You’re here now and that’s what matters, right?”

James didn’t respond but he gave her a lopsided smile that sent more butterflies in her stomach than could be contained within a museum. The silence between them was comfortable, almost like a blanket on a chilly day.

Before long they were both finished, James insisting on washing the dishes as Emilia stood nearby and asked about his day where she saw his physical reaction to his job being mentioned.

He became tense and uneasy, telling her his job was truly making him unhappier than he bothered to let on.

“It was… work,” James said before sighing in defeat, unable to find the will to put up a front, “It was fucking terrible. I- I suggested an alternate route of argument and use of information and my dad flipped out and just went off so that really dampened my mood,”

She listened dutifully as James told her what had happened, telling her the harsh words spoken to him by the very many whose sole responsibility was to love him unconditionally and support him.

“Oh James,” Emilia said as she moved to stand beside him and take the plate he was clutching in his hand out of his tight grip, setting it onto the drying rack but instead of asking how he felt- that much was obvious- she interlocked her left arm with his right and pulled him along, “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

That cracked a smile out of him as she took him around, the seemingly unbearable weight that had been on his shoulders was soon anything but there.

“These are my photos, I thought they looked nice on the wall and on the bookshelves,” She told him as she showed him the photos of her family, explaining every photo he pointed to in curiosity regarding the backstory.

There was one hung on the wall where the TV was mounted, it was obviously a younger version of Emilia, no older than four on the hip of a man who could only ever be her father given the similarities.

Their same eyes, beautiful smiles, and genuine happiness on the beach behind them.

“That’s my dad,” Emilia said as she gently traced a finger on the photo, “That day; my dad packed us for the beach instead of school and we drove out to the bay where we spent the entire day together just doing whatever we felt was right,”

James smiled at the photo, seeing all of her father in her in such a beautiful feminine way.

“Are you two still close?” He asked.

Emilia stared at the picture a bit longer before blinking herself out of the trance she was in and she turned to James with a sad smile.

“He passed away when I was fifteen, and all it took was a drunk driver on a late night,” Emilia explained, “But I owe everything to him. Everything I want, I have, and that’s because of him,”

He asked her what she meant and she gestured around with her hands.

“All of this is thanks to him…. I went to college and majored in English and while I loved it there was always this pull towards something else, something more,” She began explaining, “Growing up my dad loved to cook, and he always had me with him, telling me about this and that while he was cooking. This made me just gravitate towards the kitchen to be alongside him which is where he taught me to bake and to cook,”

Moving back towards a table she had underneath the staircase, she pulled out a thick brown book and set it on the dining room table.

“He left us some money when he passed away, and I used it to buy this building, fix it up, create a home as well as a business. I named it after his favorite song because he always told me that baked goods were especially good on rainy days,” Emilia opened up the book and showed him the handwritten recipes, “I couldn’t even turn on an oven or a stovetop after he died, but he opened up my life to this huge opportunity and I couldn’t let it go,”

James was quiet as he gently took in all that this book meant to Emilia, all of the memories that had to be within every single page because in a sense, this was a physical reminder of her father.

“That’s so beautiful, are these all of his recipes?”

“No,” Emilia shook her head, “These are some, but there are three others over there too. He was diligent about writing his recipes down because he always said that he could be the next Barefoot Contessa,”

That earned a laugh from James who watched as Emilia put it away before turning to him with a smile.

“He sounds… unbelievable,” He told her as they met on his side of the table, “I’m sorry for your loss but it sounds like he left you with enough to keep him alive,”

Emilia agreed, pointing towards one of her which had to be recent with her arms wrapped around someone who was wearing glasses, both of them grinning towards the camera as his hands were holding onto her forearms.

“That’s my brother, Blaine,” She explained, “He’s three years older and he is the coolest guy you’ll ever meet,”

They went through the photos, and she seemed so happy as she spoke of her family and a few friends she had photos with.

So carefree and pretty, James had to stop himself from grabbing her face and kissing her but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do that to himself and most importantly; he couldn’t do it to her. It would be so easy to ruin things, and it would only be a matter of time for him to demolish this as well so he didn’t.

Instead, they finished up the tour and James’ clothing was sufficiently dry to sit on the couch with Emilia who was searching for something for them to watch, James amicable to anything she wanted.

They settled on Gilmore Girls after James had confessed to never having watched it which Emilia told him was sacrilegious of him.

Soon, the memory of James’ bad day, bad week, and monotone life was just a distant memory as they spoke comfortably with one another; getting to know one another on a deeper level. James spoke of his life and his upbringing, though with less openness than Emilia who did the same at James’ request.

She told him of her mother, her brother, her father, and her upbringing in northern California. In some ways it made James stomach clench in indescribable ways because his childhood couldn’t have been more opposite.

Where she had love and affection, raising someone who welcomed people- even him- with open arms, ready for just about anything James had been raised to be quiet and shut off from people, closing himself off because that was how a man was. Though with her he didn’t want that, he wanted to just be free with her but he had to hold himself back.

They decided to watch a movie instead of watching Gilmore Girls since they seemed keen on talking over it, settling on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Through the movie and their chats, they moved closed together until they were close enough for Emilia to rest her head on his arm after they had been quiet for a bit, sleep taking over her and leaving her to lean on James.

He was suddenly tremendously aware of how well she fit alongside him as he let her rest, careful not to make any sudden moves because he didn’t want to wake her.

Forgoing the movie, he opted for leaning his head back and allowing himself to take in all of the feelings she brought out in him, feelings he had never allowed himself to with someone because of this or that.

Too busy with lacrosse practice, too busy with undergrad, then law school, then now it was too much with his work.

But in reality it was being too busy and too preoccupied with the fear of becoming attached to someone and the vulnerabilities that came with that.

The fear of maybe, just maybe having something wrong with him.

Something wrong enough to have his own father treat him like garbage, enough to have his mother’s apathy prevail, and wrong enough to be this unlovable man who just wasn’t cut out for having an earth shattering love from someone perfect.

Someone like Emilia.

But for now he allowed himself to hope and simmer in what it would be like if he were just normal and not afraid of the brutality a relationship could bring out.

Years of subduing his emotions had taught him that, but sometimes emotions still won out as he felt his eyes burn with unshed tears as he looked towards the ceiling of Emilia’s apartment because fuck he was tired of holding it all in.

Suddenly Emilia was moving and instead of waking up, she moved closer and towards his neck, prompting James to wrap his arm around her to keep her there.

His thoughts were silenced at the warm weight, minutes passed and they were unaccounted for on either of their ends.

Waking up an hour later, Emilia woke up to the strong presence of what she had grown to known as James’ cologne before it all came flooding back to her and she just jumping out of his arms, her face blushing bright red.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry,” She said as she hid her face in her hands, “That’s so embarrassing, I’m sorry I just fell asleep on you like some creep on a subway.”

“Stop it, you’re not some creep on a subway, Emilia,” James said as he moved his arm around a bit to regain some circulation.

Sighing, Emilia nodded though her blush was still prevalent on her face as she reached for the coffee table to check the time which made James realize he was more than likely overstepping his welcome by a large margin.

Finally saying their goodbyes, James was startled when Emilia wrapped her arms around him at the door where he wrapped his own arms around her before he made his way to his car.

His drive home was full of thoughts, his mind reeling with that entire day and what he had felt as he gripped his steering wheel with more force than was necessary

One thing was for certain, however.

He was completely enamored by Emilia, but that was a surprise because it was almost impossible to fathom someone who would be unable to fall for Emilia.

All that she was could be summarized by the word “warm”. She was all James could hope to have in his life, to any extent, but he knew his feelings were beyond those of a dear friend or a loyal customer.

Slamming the door shut behind him, he knew that he had never been one to believe in love at first sight, chalking it up to an old wive’s tale or something that’s one in a million yet here he was. Here he was feeling as though he were drowning in his vastly empty apartment.

The same apartment he had worked hard for, gone to years of prestigious schools and having nothing but the best at the cost of his self esteem and mental health.

He was taken out of his thoughts by a soft headbutt aimed at his shin by his truest confidant.

Alpine was demanding attention, allowing herself to be scooped up by James who led them into the kitchen which felt so much colder than it ever had, the only warmth in this apartment was Alpine.

“I think you’d like Emilia,” James told her as he took out her cat food, “Her apartment, too. There’s so much to like,”

Dumping Alpine’s food into her bowl, he set them both down as he thought about how in over his head he was, how much he wished things were different, but most of all he wished he had the ability to be normal and grant himself the possibility of obtaining a little hope with Emilia.

To just allow himself to feel without waiting for the subsequent blow that always came along.

Unbeknownst to him, Emilia was in her own apartment with her mind reeling with nothing but James.

How he had stepped into her bakery with a hundred yard stare she had only ever seen in herself after her father died and before the pain minimized.

But she had managed to crack a smile out of him, then another, and it all flowered so well together. He was intelligent, soft spoken, and it looked like he just needed someone to listen to him and perhaps and safe haven away from his very own life.

Though she wouldn’t deny the way she was drawn to him, one moment of eye contact during their first encounter was enough to draw her in and leave her wanting more, subsequently leaving her disappointed when she didn’t see him for a few days.

Love hadn’t been a top priority for her, having taken her father’s words to heart when he told her true love had no timeline and that she was destined for a soulmate but it would come when they both needed it the most.

James seemed so sad, his mood always set as a bare simmer but she was always able to have him leave with an extra pep in his step.

It was easy with them, but it was obvious James held back from really telling her how he felt but she’d let him open up to her when he felt it was right, let him come to her when he felt he really needed to get away from the negativity his life provided.

He was also tremendously handsome, God, his steel blue eyes paired with his dark mid length hair was enough to make any woman stutter. Combined with his broad shoulders, well worked body, and extended height… well that didn’t hurt either.

Of course she wanted things to be simple, for both of them to be open with their emotions but sometimes it was more difficult for people to open up. From what he had confessed about his father, it was evident he didn’t take his own emotions into consideration, setting them aside and ignoring them for the sake of his own sanity and to keep up appearances.

It would happen when it needed to happen, but regardless she refused to allow James to slip out of her lift and into his own loneliness again.

_________________________

This is the way things continued alongside the weather dropping.

James would visit, spend as much time as he wanted or could alongside Emilia who was always eager to have him there in her company.

The more he visited, the more he felt, the more he felt, the more afraid he became.

He had fallen for Emilia hard without the ability to find himself staying away for too long because he somehow felt himself worsen when he was away, and the bitter contentment with the fact that all they would ever be was friends was better than being away completely.

“What’re you doing for thanksgiving?” Emilia had asked one evening as they shared a slice of strawberry cheesecake, James shrugging and telling her that his parents were having a large dinner party but that he had made up an excuse to stay away from his family as much as he could.

Which is how he found himself standing outside of Emilia’s home at 7:30 in the morning on Thanksgiving day after Emilia had given him puppy dog eyes and asked if he wanted to spend it with her.

“Come on, we have much to do,” Emilia told him as she took his hand and led him to the back kitchen where much to his surprise, there was already someone there.

Well two someones, actually.

The guy from her photos, her brother Blaine, was there with a toddler on his hip spinning in circles until he noticed their arrival.

“Hi! I’m Blaine,” He introduced brightly, making his way around the large center counter to shake his hand, “It’s so nice to meet you, James. Emilia speaks of you so much…. This is Maya,”

Still surprised, he shook Blaine’s hand mutely before regaining his foot and speaking to them, “It’s nice to meet you too,” He said as he looked around the kitchen where Emilia was shutting a box of something.

“We have a lot of work to do, but instead Blaine is eating the rejected cookies.” Emilia explained as she lifted a pumpkin pie into another yellow box before shutting it and writing on the top.

Blaine grinned and set Maya down, grabbing the tupperware container from the counter behind him and offering them to James saying, “Some of them have oatmeal so it’s like eating breakfast oatmeal,” He reasoned, James smiled and took one without much hesitation.

“We don’t actually have work,” Emilia admitted with a smile towards James, “I’m closed today but I took orders so I have to hand them out when they arrive,”

Blaine studied James as he munched on his cookie before asking, “How attached are you to the traditional Thanksgiving ideology?”

“I’m not too attached, it’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” James answered after a bit of pondering, “But why do you ask?”

Setting aside the boxed pie, Emilia shared a grin with Blaine that James thought looked suspiciously excited.

“Well we have a tradition where we pick an all day dessert or two and we just spend the day together baking,” She explained “But we don’t do turkey or anything, we always just for a nice drive, order Thai or Italian food for dinner then enjoy our desserts,”

That seemed like genuine fun to James, his face lighting up like a child as he nodded at the thought of spending the entire day with Emilia as well as her brother who seemed to be a really cool guy.

Suddenly it seemed as though Thanksgiving and major holidays weren’t so rotten and so far from fun.

_________________

The entire day was filled with helping Emilia box up orders, getting to know Blaine, wielding Maya who was attached to his leg for a good portion of the time, and just having a good time.

He couldn’t remember a holiday where he had laughed so much and enjoyed himself with those he was with. Holidays were something he dreaded and often felt a pit of anxiety because of, but here he was enjoying himself.

Their brunch had consisted of omelets thanks to Blaine who had accompanied it with bacon, James smiling as Emilia shared hers with Maya.

Both siblings had insisted James pick the dessert which had him opting for cinnamon rolls which had Blaine cheering after peeking over James’ shoulder to see what he had chosen, Emilia rolling her eyes at her brother.

“You can mix the sugar and butter,” Emilia told James as she slid over the ingredients to him, his eyes lighting up as he took the rubber spatula and poked the softened butter.

Blaine's eyes widened at that, narrowing them, “You’re letting him help you? Last time I tried to help you, you grabbed my arm with a hot oven mit!” Blaine accused, but Emilia made an innocent face.

“You were eating all of the frosting for the cookies,” She told her brother as she subconsciously helped James pack the brown sugar into the measuring cup, “Plus I had told you to watch the cookies but you let the first batch burn,”’

Blaine huffed but smiled at Emilia and James despite himself, watching as she monitored the way he mixed together the ingredients as she rolled out the proved dough with a well floured rolling pin, Blaine the only one without a task.

Growing up Emilia had attempted to have Blaine learn to bake with her but he just didn’t have the self control to avoid eating the frosting or the delicious dough before it was cooked so he opted to let Emilia manage the baking.

There was something between both Emilia and James, that much was obvious, but it seemed they were taking it slow.

“So Blaine, can I ask what your family is up to today?” Blaine asked casually as he scrubbed the mixing bowl as his designated duty to clean up while they waited for the cinnamon rolls.

James paused his movements where he was wiping off the counter with a damp rag, attempting to figure out how to word things while Emilia watched him with worried eyes to see how he was going to take the question.

“They’re having a dinner party,” James told him, “But uh- I don’t really like spending too much time with them, you know? It’s rocky.”

Thankfully, Blaine seemed to be just as understanding as Emilia.

“I hear you, man,” He told James as he held up his sponge, “Families are complicated for some people, Emilia and I got lucky but we were always raised to open our home and family to people so I’m glad you’re here, James,’

Finding he was staring at Blaine, he finally snapped himself out of his trance and he nodded a few times as he swallowed hard.

“Thanks, Blaine. That means a lot to me.” James confessed, Blaine’s nod was casual as he continued to wash the dishes but Emilia noticed how stunned he seemed by the confession which had her making her way over to him, resting her hand on his as she gave it a reassuring squeeze.

He squeezed her hand back, the remaining tension that he hadn’t been able to feel dissipated disappeared from his body as he enjoyed the evening with the two siblings.

By the time they had eaten their fill of Thai food, cinnamon rolls, and watched all that they could one single day, James had to admit he had never had such a fun holiday. Perhaps the holidays when his grandparents were still alive were comparable, but even then he favored this thanksgiving above all others.

James thanked Emilia with a soft smile for the day after she had insisted on walking him out to his car with the smile that had been on her face all day was still unwavering.

“No, thank you for coming,” Emilia told him as they stood on the sidewalk next to James’ car, “I’m so glad you came, it was amazing having you here alongside Blaine.”

“I was really nervous seeing your brother, but you guys are just so welcoming and fun to be around.” James admitted.

The smile on Emilia’s face somehow managed to grow, she felt herself unable to hold back as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around James’ middle tightly.

He paused for a moment, taken aback by the sudden affection but he was soon wrapping his own arms around her just as tightly, resting his cheek atop hers as she rested her head along his shoulder with her face in his neck.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Blaine was peeking through the window to see whether or not they would kiss though the hug didn’t disappoint him either. The entire day has been very telling regarding their feelings towards one another, but he hadn’t been sure about where they were exactly.

Emilia let go first, James would have hugged her until the sunrise but he also let go, taking in the last of her warm perfume before smiling down at her.

“Please get home safe, alright? I’ll be open tomorrow should you want to come around, alright?”

He nodded, his heart ready to burst as he told her he’d see her soon before making his way over to his car with Emilia’s watchful eye on him. She waved as he drove away, watching until he drove away and out of sight.

Entering her apartment, Blaine wolf whistled from where he sat on the couch.

“A hug? You two are sure to get arrested for public indecency,” Blaine teased Emilia rolling her eyes at him as she kicked off her Birkenstocks and began heading over to her brother to divulge her feelings about James and how to go about them.

A couple of blocks away, James was sitting in his car stopped at a red light thinking about how absolutely screwed he was.

He was absolutely and irrevocably in love with Emilia and there were few things in his life that had even gotten a jolt out of him like this one. A jolt of realization, the sudden feeling of your heart dropping into your stomach and getting caught in your throat all at once alongside your blood going freezing cold.

The honk from the car behind him announced to him that the light had turned green, but even when he accelerated down Briggs Ave. he still found his thoughts and heart stuck back a couple of blocks away.

Few things in life were easy, and being around Emilia was one of the easiest things James had ever gone about yet it also seemed to be the most detrimental.

____________________

Hope is a finicky thing, and James was well aware of that.

He was more aware of that than anything else in his life because hope had given him seldom in life.

The brutality of the reality of things was something he was more than accustomed to with his parents and upbringing shielding him from poverty but not much else.

Thanksgiving weekend dripped away and before long they were in December where the weather had soon dropped into inhumanely cold temperatures where the only solace James ever found from the coldness of the weather and his thoughts were alongside Emilia.

The first week of December had been a simple enough one for James until he had gotten in a verbal altercation with his father regarding whether or not James was to take on an assigned case.

It was simple in his eyes, he wasn’t going to defend a high school student facing real time in prison for smashing into a mother’s vehicle while street racing. However to Byron it was also simple: James did what he said, but he had never received such a headstrong from his son.

“You have to take on whatever case is presented to you.” Byron had demanded in his office, James knowing that the entire office was listening in on this argument but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to stand up for another kid identical to the ones he had gone to school with.

The ones with lack of empathy, remorse, or the ability to think selflessly because he had fought long and hard to never become one so he sure as hell wouldn’t defend on.

His father had ground him down into nothing but he wouldn’t go against the little belief he had in himself about being a kind person.

Though he had stood his ground, earning less than kind words from his father ending with the coined phrase, “I am so disappointed in you.” Which stung less and less every time he used it until now it was nothing but a dull ache that followed him.

“Trust me, I know.” James had told him before stepping out of his father’s office, the weight of the not-so-subtle stares from assistant, partners, and clients were less than comforting but the dull ache followed him for only a few steps.

Fridays meant leaving early, and by 2:30 James was escaping the office with a quick goodbye to the receptionist before he made his way over to perhaps eat his weight in cheesecake or danishes.

What he hadn’t expected was for Emilia to be preoccupied with something, or someone namely.

It didn’t bother James of course, she was a business owner and she chatted with everyone she needed to.

Spotting James, she continued the conversation about what seemed to be tips on baking chocolate chip cookies as she went over to the display to grab him a slice of blueberry cheesecake before preparing his coffee without having to be asked.

Taking his seat at his usual spot along the counter, he thanked her with a smile he knew didn’t completely reach his eyes, a concerned look growing on her face but she turned back to the other man.

He didn’t listen in much in favor of drinking his piping hot coffee with his cake after Emilia had set it down for him.

God, he wished this guy would leave so the place could be empty. He needed it to be empty so he could tell her about his day and the reason behind why he looked as though he had just gotten his ass handed to him.

But wasn’t that so selfish? Selfish to want to vent to her again, tell her about his stupid life again when he had it pretty good. Sure his father was an asshole and his emotions were everywhere but that wasn’t her problem to solve, was it?

Why did he feel the need to run to her when they were nothing more than friends? Were they even friends or was he just breaking the customer-seller boundary again and again without Emilia finding it within herself to tell him that she really didn’t care.

What made it even more sad was the way his heart would do something like a kickflip whenever she’d glance at him from where she was still speaking to the guy who had been there the entire time.

Fumbling out of his thoughts, he listened in at the moment he later assumed fate needed him to listen in on.

“So, see you Saturday evening?” The man asked, James’ heart stuttering in a less than comforting way as he blanched.

Was it a date?

“Yeah, see you then, Nate.” Emilia confirmed with one of her grand smiles James had foolishly thought she had only ever reserved for him after weeks and weeks of… this.

Of James coming in and dumping his emotions on her, both of them going back and forth but it must be so exhausting for her to have him go in again and again, knowing he was lonely.

Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard at the realization as he fumbled to stand and grab his briefcase as he remembered he needed to pay for everything.

Blindly grabbing his wallet, he pulled out a random denomination of bills hoping it was enough to cover the tab without speaking a word.

Heading to the door, he nearly bumped into the man who had made plans with Emilia, almost as though fate wanted to rub it into his face that he had made a date with Emilia before James could do anything but pine from the sidelines.

“James?” Emilia asked worriedly from her side of the counter before he could exit, “Where are you going? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just have to go, sorry for always barging in here on you but have fun on Saturday.” He told her with a falsely bright voice, heading out towards his car leaving Emilia utterly confused.

Picking up his dishes she saw he had eaten less than half of his cake though his coffee was all but gone from the mug leaving her worried about what the hell was going on.

Why had he apologized?

___________________

As the younger sibling, Emilia had one talent and it was being profoundly stubborn.

The gnawing worry she felt for James had done anything but subsided after his quick exit, prompting her to call him again and again until he answered her fifth call and third text by the time she had flipped her sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’ at 7pm.

It hadn’t been easy to have him agree to go back, though with the promise of a listening ear as she decorated 140 cupcakes for an elementary school aged party for the following morning.

“So what was your grand escape about?” Emilia asked when James’ hands were busy mixing pastel yellow frosting for her, knowing it was easier to open up when you weren’t directly focused in on opening up.

There was silence in the kitchen aside from the music Emilia seemed to always have playing when she baked.

She didn’t push, allowing him to go at his own pace after manhandling him and convincing him to go.

“I came to the realization that I come around here a lot and constantly dump things on you about my day. It must be so exhausting for you because you have so many other things to do.” James told her as he added another drop of food gel as he attempted to get the pastel yellow Emilia was going for.

Finishing her blue swirl, she set down her piping bag and looked at him, “You do realize that I do the same to you, right? We’re meant to help one another but I can assure you that you do not bug me. Not today, yesterday, or next October.” Emilia told him seriously.

There was no response, causing Emilia to put down the piping bag she had just picked up.

“Do I bug you, James? When I tell you about my day, my family, or even about how I slept?” Emilia asked him, earning a wide eyed look from James who shook his head as he set down his spatula.

“Of course not, I want to hear what you have to say.”

“That’s how I feel about you,” Emilia told him, “I know you weren’t raised to be very open with your emotions or thoughts so when you are you feel like a burden or as though you did something wrong, but you didn’t. Not with me.”

Continuing on to the next white bowl of frosting, he seemed to be lost in thoughts as he began mixing in a few drops of blue food gel before he was able to verbalize.

“How are you able to be so… open and just good with your feelings?” He asked, and maybe somewhere deep within him there was a small ray of hope where things would just click and there wouldn’t be such a gap between his emotions and his words.

Not looking away from where she was decorating her cupcakes, she told him her sincerest answer, “I just grew up in a home where it was safe and encouraged to be open about how you’re feeling. My dad was really big on that because his dad was really cruel with him when he was growing up so he never wanted to have his kids grow up in that kind of home where it was bad to feel and where they grew up afraid.”

“But,” Emilia continued softly, “Something bothered you today, something must have triggered these adverse thoughts in your ever intelligent mind.”

Satisfied with the green shade he pushed away the bowl before running his hand down his face.

“It was- it’s so stupid but I saw that guy today and I just wanted him to leave so I could talk to you and have you to myself? I don’t- it’s so selfish to want that, I know, but then I thought he was locking in a date which isn’t my business because you’re allowed to date whoever you want because we’re not- you know?” He stuttered out a mile a minute, “Jesus I’m fumbling here, can you- I should go.”

James made an attempt to flee after Emilia allowed him to stutter through his emotions, but he didn’t get far because Emilia was grabbing onto his arm and dragging him back to his spot, gently but firmly.

“No, no, no, no, no, this is good, this is called discourse and vulnerability, James,” Emilia told him as she moved him back to where he had been standing, “It’s just me, you’re always allowed to feel however it is you’re feeling around me.”

He nodded, settling down as Emilia made her way to her own spot.

“Sorry. It’s just difficult because I’ve never been able to be open with someone? You know that, though.” James said as he repeated it for the millionth time, but Emilia just smiled.

“Yeah, well they’ll never know you the way that I do.” She said so simply James felt his chest crack wide open in that kitchen, the affection he felt for her was uncanny to anything else in his life. He had fallen deeply, and it was as pleasant as it was painful.

________________________

It didn’t take long for Emilia to finish up the order, closing it up and setting it in the fridge when she came back with unfrosted cupcakes and a brilliant idea.

She had insisted on teaching James to frost a cupcake after he had expressed some interest in it as he watched her do it so easily and with such simplicity for over a hundred cupcakes, not one wonky or out of order.

So she stood close to him, placing her hands above his as she guided the correct pressure and movements she had perfected after years and years of baking, James’ movements clunky and unperfected underneath her hands.

James had moved so her back was pressed against his front, his focus on her warmth and the way her hands were so, so soft and so gentle with his own, making his heart want to hammer straight out of his chest onto the counter.

“You’re doing great.” Emilia complimented as she subtly loosened her hold on his hands, allowing him to guide it until he did his own slightly wonky swirl.

She moved aside, standing next to him as he continued on from a chocolate cupcake to a vanilla cupcake with the yellow frosting peeking out of the tip, his eagerness obvious.

Suddenly he felt hyper aware of how close she was to him and he just couldn’t stop himself anymore, he really couldn’t.

All at once he moved forward with his instinct without a secondary thought of doubt plaguing him, turning to the right where Emilia was standing, cupping her face with his right hand and leaning down in swift movements before he kissed her soundly.

Emilia’s lips were soft and warm against his own he knew were closer to chapped than not, the sensation he felt was nothing he could have prepared for in the instances he had restrained himself from doing this beforehand.

To James it was like the friendly deja vu he was privy to experiencing at times, as though they had years and years of practice doing this together. He felt Emilia really respond, pushing a little deeper where he was able to taste the remains of the unsold blueberry muffin Emilia had been munching on earlier during his arrival.

However much both parties enjoyed this, breathing was still a requirement which had them pulling away, James peeling open his eyes to see Emilia grinning widely at him, her eyes alive with affection he had been certain of concocting in his own mind.

Before he could speak a word or utter an apology, Emilia was cupping his face within her own hands and raising herself onto her toes where she kissed James again and again chastely, pulling away with an overexaggerated “Mwah!”

“Was this your plan all along?” She asked with a teasing smile, “Get me to show you my frosting technique, kiss me, and run away with this and my other secrets?”

James threw his head back and laughed, the laugh bubbling out of his chest as Emilia laughed alongside him. In the future, the sheer simplicity of it all is what stuck out in James’ head the most.

__________________

The way Emilia’s face lit up when she saw James appear the next day, a Thursday, made just about everything in his day worthwhile because that sent a jolt through him. It was after six thirty, his plans of lunch with Emilia had been thwarted by piles of paperwork, settling for a Clif bar and a water bottle.

His mood was negative, something he could feel following him like a cloud in one of those antidepressant commercials that came on tv, his father making his life a living hell because of his lack of appearance at thanksgiving. It had been over a week since thanksgiving but it was still fresh in his father’s mind.

Rude comments, damning his work, and just making him feel about as worthless as a human being could and he was so exhausted.

“Ahoy there,” Emilia greeted from behind her counter, walking towards James who was walking around it and practically throwing himself into her arms.

He greeted her back in a tired voice, Emilia wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly as she allowed him to find comfort within her arms with his own wrapped around her middle so tightly she thought he might want to mold himself into her body.

“What happened? You look like you just got told your car is getting repoed,” Emilia asked, James pulling away with a shrug, “Nothing,”

“James,” Emilia said, not buying his lackluster answer, finally getting out of James what he had been harboring in his mind all day without anyone but Emilia to tell.

“My dad is an asshole who gets a sadistic high out of making me feel like shit, is all,” James said in a light tone Emilia knew was meant to be joking but the way his voice cracked at the last word had her making her way over to the front door, locking it securely before turning over the sign to announce she was closed.

“C’mon mister,” She told him as was back in front of him, grabbing his hand, “You can help me prepare some stuff for tomorrow because God knows the holidays make people love their baked goods and today was a riot in here.”

Suddenly he felt out of place and as though again, he hadn’t considered that she might be busy running an entire business where she was the sole baker.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry. Do you want me to go so you can work?” James asked as he stopped at the door of the back kitchen, prompting Emilia to tug him in with a shake of her head.

“No. I want you here, silly,”

“But you have so much-” He was cut off by Emilia grabbing his face and kissing him soundly, it was chaste but it got the job done because afterwards James was left short circuiting for a few moments.

“James, would you do me the favor of keeping me company while I do some work here? I’d love to have you here with me,”

With a smile, he shrugged and followed her back to the kitchen where she began to do her work.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes #lawyer bucky #bakery bucky #insecure bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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purple-babygirl · 1 month

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welcome baaaack! i missed you so much

i've been here since forever and i remember a very long time ago that you promised us insecure chubby bucky. i never forget and i'm still waiting for him (when you get time for sure). i would love to read that whenever you right it! otherwise i'm really happy you're back again.

much love purple<3

Pairing: Insecure!Chubby!Chef!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 4,180

Summary: Bucky runs into his ex, who manages to mess with his head, bringing his insecurities to the surface again. His girl takes it upon herself to show him how perfect he is.

Warnings: 18+ content, bullying (sort of), fat shaming, negative self body image, insecurities, intrusive thoughts, mentions of cheating, a little crying, a little angst, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, cum, multiple orgasms

A/N: Nonnie, omg, you have been here a long time! I love and appreciate you so so much and I can't believe you stuck around for so long wow:"💜💜 Thank you so much for existing and for being here you're the reason I don't wanna leave again💜💜💜 Here's one insecure chubby bucky for you, I hope you like this one and that I did a good job💜 Thank you again ilyyy, please enjoyxx💜💜(y'all i think i forgot how to write smut what is wrong with me)

perfect to me

“I’m so sorry, baby, I have to run,” she told him after checking her phone, pecking his lips and taking quick steps down the aisle of the large store.

Bucky smiled, taking another fruit plate and placing it in their cart. His girl was such a hard worker and he couldn’t be prouder.

It was going to be Christmas soon and his girl was still working hard so Bucky was going to make her the best holiday food she’s ever tasted.

He was focused on picking the freshest cranberries when he heard a scoff, a very familiar one.

“Hey, Ryan,” Bucky sighed, not really wanting to ruin his good mood, as he turned around to meet a face he knew too well.

“What does she owe you?” said Ryan, tilting his head with a smirk.

“What?!”

“There’s no way this chick is seeing you. I figured she must owe you and is just paying her debt!” He smirked further, not even trying to hide his gloating when he saw that his words still had an effect on Bucky.

“My relationship with her is none of your business.” Bucky’s voice was suddenly low as his eyes stared down at the contents of the cart.

“But my relationship with you is.” Ryan put a finger under Bucky’s chin but the latter took a step away.

“We don’t have a relationship. You cheated on me, remember? I was too fat for you.” Bucky’s shaky voice moved nothing inside Ryan. If anything Ryan wanted more.

“And now you’re too fat for her.”

“Shut up. She is nothing like you.”

“Really? Do you even know where she goes when she leaves you? Where she is right now, for example?” Ryan smirked.

“She got called into work and had to run to the office.” Bucky knew he owed him nothing and if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have went through a conversation with Ryan at all, but he wasn’t.

“How are you still so naïve?” He laughed heartily as if Bucky’s misery was actually amusing to him.

“Leave me alone.” Bucky tried to push the shopping cart and walk away, but Ryan stepped before him.

“I didn’t know your publisher lived in an office.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She leaves you to go fuck your publisher. You know him, black guy, sexily built, very handsome.”

The words left Bucky feeling lightheaded as the world seemed to twirl around him. Could history be repeating itself? No, not this time. His girl was not like that.

“I saw her coming to his building with him.”

“How’d you even-”

“I wait tables in the restaurant across the street from his apartment. I didn’t know she was with you but damn are you lucky you met me today!” Ryan laughed insensitively.

“It’s probably someone else.”

“I think I know what your publisher looks like.”

“You’re lying,” Bucky chocked out, trying to get out of Ryan’s way.

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Ryan tilted his head again with a smug smirk, poking Bucky’s tummy, “you know why? Because deep down you know she’s too sexy for you. Because you look at her and then at yourself and you can’t figure out why she’d want you. Because you know that sooner or later she’s gonna get tired of your fat ass and—”

“My life now is none of your business, Ryan. You left. You chose to go, so stay gone.” Bucky’s weak voice interrupted, shutting Ryan right up before he sped out of the store, leaving the groceries behind.

“You’ll come back to me when you see for yourself!” He shouted after Bucky, but he didn’t stop nor turn back.

The questions he had raised in Bucky’s head, Bucky had no answers for them himself. Why was this sweet girl with him? What did she see in him? Anyone who met them thought the same thing: they didn’t belong together. So what did she see differently? What was Bucky bringing to their relationship? Could he even satisfy her? Could he keep her fulfilled?

He thought the days where Ryan messed with his head were long gone but he was obviously mistaken. Ryan could still easily hurt him. He could still make him feel as large as an elephant yet smaller than an insect. The dagger he’d planted was in so deep that Bucky couldn’t feel anything but the pain the stab brought.

His ex’s words plagued his mind. They took over and drowned out his girl’s voice, pushing it to the background.

All of a sudden, Bucky was very aware of his size, of the way the couch made the slightest sounds under his weight, and the way his girl could fit her whole self on one of his thighs if she wanted to.

“Bucky bear?” A hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts.

Suddenly, he hated the words she nicknamed him with. Bear? Is that how big she thought he was?

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you wanna go shopping for last minute gifts with me tomorrow,” she repeated, smiling sweetly, her fingers brushing a few hairs back and behind Bucky’s ear as she yawned.

Bucky’s new cookbook became a best seller after one week of release and the publication house was throwing the amazing chef a party.

She couldn’t be prouder and she wanted to support Bucky all the way. She loved Christmas and now it was going to be even better with this event added to their memories.

She was going to go all out for her man and he didn’t even know it. It was going to be a huge surprise and she couldn’t wait to make it happen.

“Yeah, why not,” Bucky replied, faking a smile back.

“What were you busy thinking about?” Her thumb traced his stubbly cheek as she frowned worriedly.

For a wonderfully successful cook, Bucky didn’t look so happy.

“You,” he answered with the truth though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually would at the thought of her.

“What about me?” Her smile returned as she stared lovingly at Bucky’s face.

“Why are you with me?” Bucky couldn’t hide the sorrow in his voice if he tried.

“What?” She sat up straight in his lap as her face fell.

“Please don’t make me repeat the question.”

“Buck, where’s this coming from?” Her hands cupped both his cheeks.

“I just don’t get it.” He shook his head, swallowing as his hands removed hers from his face.

“Don’t get what?!” She placed her hands on Bucky’s chest instead, refusing to let him push her away.

“Why you’re here!”

“I’m here because I love you, what’s hard to get, baby?”

“Do you really love me?”

This was serious. She’s never seen her boyfriend look so broken.

“James, what’s going on?”

“Answer the question, plum,” Bucky requested, the back of his fingers stroking over her cheek, knowing this was probably the last time he would get to touch her soft skin.

“Of course I love you!”

“Then why do you leave me to go meet Sam and then lie to me about it?!” Bucky unintentionally raised his voice.

“W—what?”

There were so many emotions overwhelming her and none of them was pleasant.

She was shocked, hurt and dejected. Bucky has never raised his voice at her before.

“What were you doing together last night? And the night before and the night before that?!”

“Bucky, you’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, heartbroken that Bucky would think of her like that.

“Please leave.” He slid her off his lap and stood up, turning his back to her.

“Bucky.” Tears pricked her eyes.

“Leave, plum.”

“Bucky, me and Sam were—”

“If you won’t leave then I will.” Bucky sped to the door, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanged.

The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of her too. He’s already shown his weakness once; never again.

“Bucky!”

He ignored her calls, ready to run out of the door and let his legs take him far away where he’d have to hear no lies and could no longer get hurt.

“James Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare walk out on me!” She blocked the door, preventing Bucky from exiting the apartment.

Her eyes glistened with yet to be shed tears as her heart pounded in her chest. The mere idea of losing Bucky for any reason terrified her more than anything else.

She loved the man with her heart and soul and would go to the ends of the Earth for his sake. Why couldn’t he see that?

“I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise but… your book is a best seller. Me and Sam were planning you a party to celebrate. We figured if we met at the restaurant it’d ruin the surprise so I saw him at his place after work.”

Bucky stared at her dumbly.

“You can call Sam if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Bucky felt like someone’s just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head; felt like an absolute idiot, “oh, plum.”

“I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I’m not sorry I wanted to do something nice for the man I love.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her lower lip trembled, “and I’m really sad with you for stalking me and doubting me like that. I didn’t expect that from you, Bucky… and I’m hurt.”

“Sweet plum-”

“You can leave now if you still want to.” She took quick steps to the bedroom, leaving Bucky at the door.

It wasn’t often that she and Bucky fought and it was never something that couldn’t be solved within an hour. He could never bear to see her upset, let alone let her go to bed mad at him.

“Plum,” Bucky softly knocked on her door, swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, “can I please come in?”

But this was big.

Bucky has doubted her love for him. He has insulted her loyalty and ruined everything because of his insecurities and the poisonous words of a man who never cared for him.

She opened the door for him in a heartbeat, her face soaked in tears.

“No, no, sweet plum.” Bucky took her in his arms, praying to the deities she wouldn’t repel from his touch.

“You pushed me out of your lap.” She sobbed, her chest heaving and her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

His accusations hurt but the fact that he pushed her away somehow hurt her more.

Bucky couldn’t help but let his tears fall as well.

How could he be so thoughtless? She was the one good thing in his life and he almost let her go. No amount of restaurants he could open could make him feel as happy as a smile from her would.

He could write a library and collect every prize ever known to humankind, and she would still be the best thing Bucky has ever won over.

“I’m stupid, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold tightened, engulfing her smaller frame in a desperate hug, “please don’t cry because of an idiot like me. I’m sorry, sweet plum. Forgive me, baby.”

“Why’d you do it?” Her sad eyes looked at him in question, full of confusion yet void of bitterness.

“I- sweet plum-” Bucky didn’t know how to answer her question because now that he looked back, he could see how stupid it all was.

Why did he follow her for 3 consecutive nights while she went to meet Sam instead of just trusting her? Why did he choose to believe and trust in Ryan’s words and not her love for him? Why was it easier for him to imagine her with someone like Sam but impossible to think of her with someone like himself?

“It’s because I’m a big idiot,” Bucky replied.

“Bucky.”

“Please forgive me, plum.” Bucky pecked her temple.

“Tell me what happened.” She demanded softly, wiping Bucky’s own tears away and kissing his chin.

“Nothing happened, sweet plum. I got inside my own head again. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky lied with a sad smile, too ashamed to admit Ryan’s words almost had him ruining the best relationship he’s ever been in.

She nodded understandingly, her hand cupping Bucky’s face as she rested his forehead on hers.

Bucky would tell her when he was ready. She didn’t want to stay mad at him. She knew he had issues with self confidence and she wasn’t about to make him feel even worse. He would come to her when he was comfortable. Bucky would tell her on his own.

“Please stay.” She whispered, her teary eyes heavy with sleep, yet afraid to go to bed and have Bucky leave after.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet plum.” Bucky kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand to their bed.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her soothing voice whispered, filling the dark room.

Bucky was laying wide awake, Ryan’s words playing in his ears over and over again. What he did to his girl and how he made her cry. All the messed up shit he did just hours ago gnawed at him and took the sleep away from his eyes.

“I ran into Ryan,” Bucky finally replied, unable to sleep while he’s hiding something from her, “he filled my head with thoughts about you leaving me for Sam, and I let him.” He admitted to the ceiling, hesitant to meet her eyes.

“I would never leave you,” she promised him without reluctance, cupping his face and making him look at her.

She wanted him to see all the love her eyes held for him with no shame.

“Please don’t. I will lose the weight, I will—”

“Wait, what? He told you I’d leave you because of your weight?” Both hands were back on Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs wiping under his eyes.

Bucky nodded.

“And you believed him?”

“It’s why he left me.” He shrugged.

“Bucky,” she sighed.

“I know I know. It’s what’s on the inside that counts—”

“Don’t talk as if you’re not physically breathtaking!”

“Baby—”

“No! You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?!”

“Plum, you don’t have to say such stuff.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly and regretted it when he saw sadness cover her delicate features.

She quickly shook it off, scratching her forehead before taking Bucky’s hand, helping him sit up in their bed.

“Sweet plum, what are you doing?” Bucky asked when she started moving the covers down his torso.

“Gonna love on my man. Would you let me, Bucky? Can I love on you?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.

Bucky nodded, hypnotized by the adoration shining in her eyes and she started to undress him.

Her eyes never left his as she took piece by piece of clothing off, revealing his beautiful figure to her, her smile only faltering when she bit down at the sight of her man in all his naked glory.

Bucky’s body was lit up under the soft moonlight coming from the window, helping her appreciate every curve and inch.

This gorgeous human being was his and he was hers.

“You’re so fucking sexy you take my breath away,” she moaned, slipping out of her own sweater, “and I don’t just mean the way you make me cum so many times until I have to fight for oxygen.” She brushed her lips on his.

Bucky was speechless. He could only stare and try not to lose his own oxygen.

“Keep your eyes open for me, Buck.” She pecked his lips once and he opened his eyes at once, not even realizing he’d closed them in the first place.

She smiled at how fast he followed the instruction, leaning back on the headboard and licking his lips.

Bucky’s groan when her bra hit the ground made her giggle. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself bare before Bucky’s eyes.

“Come here, plum,” Bucky’s arms reached for her but she shook her head.

“This is about you, Bucky Bear.”

She climbed on the bed between Bucky’s legs, her hands wandering along his shins, thumbs caressing up his inner thighs. She bowed forward, peppering kisses on Bucky’s soft flesh.

“I love your thighs,” her lips moved higher and higher, the tiny kisses and nibbles driving Bucky crazy as he tried not to touch himself, “love how thick they are. So strong. So perfect. I would ride them all day if you’d let me.”

Bucky whimpered when she accompanied the honest words with a bite, leaving her mark on his pale flesh.

“And that ass,” she moaned, her hands sliding underneath Bucky, pulling his legs up and cupping his ass cheeks.

Bucky’s shy gasp made her smirk. He was so precious she could eat him. Maybe she should some day…

She let Bucky’s legs settle back on the bed and kept kissing up and up, skipping his twitching cock on purpose and placing wet kisses on his tummy instead. Her eyes locked with his and Bucky bit his pink lip.

He looked so beautiful, blushing, disheveled and turned on like that. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven; she was falling in love with this chef all over again.

“I love your tummy so so much,” her tongue dipped in Bucky’s bellybutton and the flush spread from his cheeks and on to his neck and chest.

Another moan slipped from his lips as her warm tongue lapped at his skin. She was full on licking him now.

Her words were romantic but the way she was loving him was driving him insane.

“I love to feel it against me when we hug,” she kissed his right side, “I love when you let me rest my head on it and I get to hear you breathe and feel your heartbeat,” she kissed his belly, “I love how it warms my back when you spoon me. And I love feeling it pushing against my ass when you take me from behind.” She pressed a final kiss to his left side.

“My favourite has got to be your cock though.” She gave his leaking dick a single pump and his hips were already bucking off the bed, “I’m a sucker for this cock, baby. Literally.”

Bucky was too busy whining when her mouth wrapped around the crown of his cock to call her out on her bad joke.

His whole body was on fire with need for her. He needed her to do something, anything.

“Plum, please. Let me get you ready. I need you. I need to be inside you.”

Bucky didn’t want to cum in her mouth, not this time. He needed to be buried deep inside her and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.

“I’m ready,” she said, situating herself on top of his cock, rubbing the tip on her wet folds, letting out filthy mewls at the feel of him against the lips of her pussy, “always ready for you, baby.”

Before Bucky could argue that he should at least make sure she was prepared to take him just in case, she was pushing the tip of him in, stretching herself out on his cock with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.

“Fuck, plum, so tight,” Bucky groaned, feeling her pussy grip every inch as soon as it disappeared inside her.

When she has completely impaled herself on Bucky’s cock, she stilled, taking a minute to get used to the stretch.

No burn has ever felt as good as the burn she got when Bucky’s dick split her in half. Getting opened on this cock was her favorite thing in the world.

She dragged her lips along his stubbly jaw as she waited, kissing all over his face, savoring the moment as sweetly as possible as if the head of Bucky’s cock wasn’t almost touching up her cervix.

Her open palms glided from around Bucky’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his palms.

“and those hands, I think you already know how much I love your hands.” She chuckled as she continued and Bucky nodded, squirming below her.

“I love when you hold my hand; makes me feel safe; chosen,” she rolled her hips, making Bucky groan wantonly.

“I love how fast you can make me cum on the fingers of your left hand.” She whined when Bucky’s hands dug in her sides as she moved on him, surely leaving bruises behind.

“Fuck, plum-” Bucky was so close so fast and he wished he could last longer but the movement of her body on top of his, the words leaving her mouth and her walls snug around his cock were too much.

“I love you. Every inch, every part. I love all of you, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned in reply, chest heaving as he watched her take him.

“I love every part of you. I crave your touch like my lungs crave air.”

Bucky involuntarily thrust up, making her eyes roll.

“Oh Buck!” she wailed, Bucky hitting her favorite spots so good.

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting hers every time she came down to take his cock over and over again, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside of her.

“Nothing could ever match the feeling of being filled up of you, Bucky.”

“I love you, plum ahhh fuck,” Bucky moaned, overwhelmed by emotions and ready to burst any second.

“I love you too, Bucky bear. You’re my everything; my one and only.” She kissed him hard, thighs shaking around his body as she came on his cock.

Bucky couldn’t help but let go himself, cumming harder than he has ever before, filling her up with so much cum until he felt it leak out of her despite having her plugged on his softening cock.

She moaned at the warmth of his cum, shuddering when it seeped out of her.

“Fuck, plum,” Bucky sighed on her shoulder, breath still shaky.

She giggled shyly, burying her face in Bucky’s neck.

“Where did that come from?” Bucky asked, cupping her cheek so he could look at her.

She was glowing, smiling at him so innocently as if his cock wasn’t still buried deep up her leaking, pulsing pussy.

“From here.” She pointed to the spot between her breasts.

“Right here?” Bucky leaned forward to press a kiss on her hot skin, making her laugh as she nodded.

“I love you,” he whispered on her lips.

“I love you, Bucky. I love every tiny detail about you inside out. Nothing will ever change that.” She promised, seeing his eyes soften once again, insecurity dissipating.

“Thank you, plum.” Bucky hugged her close, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck.

“Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you.”

“So you love my cock huh?” Bucky teased.

“Buckyyyy,” she whined, trying to get away as her face heated up.

“No, say it.” Bucky bit his lip, looking at her with a smirk.

“You know I do. Stop.”

“No, plum. I don’t know anything.” Bucky shook his head trying to act serious, “say it again.”

“Iloveyourcock,” she mumbled, trying to take herself off his cock.

“What was that, plum?” Bucky thrust upward into her and even with a soft cock he could make her make the sweetest sound.

“Hngh, I love your cock, Bucky,” she moaned, throwing her head back.

“Hmm, how much?” Bucky swirled his hips, feeling himself get hard again.

“S-so much,” she admitted as his cock stretched her sensitive pussy.

Bucky held her close, turning them the other way around and gave a deep push when he was on top, his cum making the filthiest squelching sounds as she screamed an “oh god”.

“So much you’d let me take you again?”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically, not wanting the man to stop his thrusts.

And he wasn’t going to.

Bucky’s tummy pinned her down as he pressed his lips to hers, eating up her squeals as he pounded her into the bed, showing her how much he loved her.

“So you really don’t care about my weight?” Bucky asked, supporting his body up on his elbows as he stared at her glossy eyes.

She could barely remember her name as she tried to come down from the other two orgasms Bucky has just given her, his body still on top of hers, but that wasn’t a question she needed to think about the answer to.

“I only want you okay and healthy, Bucky. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Otherwise, you’re perfect to me,” she told him with a shrug, pushing his wet hair behind his ears, “every little thing about you is perfect.”

“I love you so much, plum.”

“I love you more.” She smiled, heart fluttering at the look he was giving her.

“Not possible.” Bucky kissed her lips, “not possible, plum.”

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652 notes · View notes

astxrwar · 4 months

Text

“why do you HC bucky as desperately wanting to feel needed” well you see

Steve. pre-serum. scrappy smart-mouthed 5’4 zero brain cells. always sick and asthmatic and losing everyone in his life and Bucky took care of him! loved him! loved to take care of him!

and then one day steve didn’t need somebody to take care of him anymore. and he started taking care of Bucky (saved him the first time, then the second time, essentially brought him back to life!!) and bucky started needing him and he never really stopped needing him and he hated himself for it and for not being able to do things for Steve the way he used to. and then steve was just. gone. and now he’s alone. and he feels okay only when he’s being useful to people and Proving Steve Right about him being good under the decades of abuse trauma.

he is absolutely not comfortable with the side of himself that Needs people that badly, he’d gone most of his life being the caretaker and not really knowing what that even felt like, and it’s easier to allow yourself to need to be needed than it is to just. need. they’re both basically the same thing but it’s an extra step to assuage his pervasive self-worth issues and feel Secure in caring about people because he really just feels like a burden unless he’s being Useful.

#:)#what he needs is that ‘it’s rotten work/not to me. not if it’s you’ dynamic #that’s ‘blunt force trauma’ but it’s mutual. two insecure morons who need each other for better or for worse #i LOVE writing my little stories. its like playtime but for adults #astxrwar.txt #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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primaryalcohol · 1 year

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poor guy

#another study? yep #because i’m insecure about my drawing-from-imagination capabilities #marvel #my art #bucky barnes #bucky #winter soldier #fanart #mcu #captain america #the winter soldier #my fanart #bucky barnes fanart #ca:tws

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sweetbbarnes · 1 year

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The Interview | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: After directing a successful movie about Captain America’s life, the media seems to think that you and Steve Rogers would be the perfect match. Little do they know, your heart has already been taken by his best friend, the infamous ex-assassin James Barnes. And although you two are in a secret relationship and even secretly live together, when Bucky hears people talking about how you and Steve would be perfect for each other, his insecurity gets the best of him. But it’s okay, because you are determined to show your soldier just how much you love him. I got the inspiration to write this fic from the prompt “I don’t love you any less just because no one else can see it.” and also from the song I’ll Never Smile Again.

Warnings: Bucky is insecure (like, a lot) and self deprecating; jealousy (if you squint it); mentions of Bucky’s history and trauma; mentions of scars and past injuries; lots of feelings; lots of fluff; swearing; pet names; alcohol is mentioned; sexual themes, slight sub!bucky and dom!reader, allusions to dom!bucky and sub!reader (they kind of switch, idk how to explain), oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, the smut is written in both Bucky and reader perspectives; please let me know if I missed anything.

This is a +18 work. Minors DNI.

English is not my first language.

I do not consent to have this fic translated, copied or published to any other sites/apps. Do not steal my work.

I don’t understand anything about filmmaking so this is entirely based on information I read on google.

A/N: this is the first fic I post here as well as the first time I try writing something in english and I’m actually really nervous about sharing it, but I liked it a lot so I decided to post. Also I had no idea smut was so hard to write, so I’m sorry if it’s not that good, I promise I tried my best.

Word Count: 7.0k

“So, this is your first time directing a project after years working as an actress. How was this experience?” Bucky hears the interviewer’s voice. After your debut as a director with a movie about Steve Rogers’ life, you’ve been going to a lot of interviews — most of them with Steve, like this one — and as much as Bucky sees you everyday, he also enjoys watching them when you’re not home and he misses you. He likes to see your eyes shining a little brighter when you talk passionately about your work, the polite smile on your lips while you pay attention to the questions, the sweet voice you use to answer them, the way your eyebrow arches a little bit in annoyance when interviewers bring up irrelevant subjects.

“You’re aware that I literally live with you, right? You don’t have to watch those to see me.” You had joked the first time you caught him doing it. But Bucky just likes to see his girlfriend, even if it’s through a screen. Today is no different, so he sits there on the couch, listening closely while you answer the question, looking gorgeous as always.

“Well, it was definitely challenging. Not only was it my first attempt at directing, but the whole premise of the film was different from everything I’ve ever worked on, you know, ‘cause telling a fictional story is one thing, but telling the story of a real person is something else completely. It takes a lot of responsibility. But it was good, I felt a sense of independence that I never had as an actress. If I didn’t like something or if it didn’t feel right, I could just change it.”

“While we’re on the subject, Captain Steve Rogers, how was it like to have someone make a movie about your life?”

Steve smiles confidently at the man, already so used to this celebrity life that he barely resembles the shy, introverted kid Bucky knew in the 40’s.

“I mean, there’s a whole exhibition about me in a museum, so it’s not like my life is a secret,” the three of you laugh at the joke “but it was easier than I thought it would be. When Y/N first told me about it, she said that she didn’t want to simply tell Captain Americas’ story, everybody knows it, anyway.” He shrugs, and it’s true, everybody knows about the skinny boy from Brooklyn who took a supersoldier serum, lost his best friend, sacrificed himself and then was frozen for years just to wake up in a totally different world than the one he grew up in. But what no one knew — at least before the movie — is who Steve Rogers was before the serum, what changed and what stayed the same after he took it, or what it was like to wake up to a world he knew nothing about and how, exactly, this whole situation affected him. And that’s exactly what you had intended to show. Not how Steve Rogers became Captain America, but how Captain America changed Steve Rogers - avoiding topics that were too personal, of course.

“She had a totally different approach than what I am used to, and it was fun. It also helped that she did a really good job with it!” The blond continued.

“She really did, the film is amazing! It shows us a more human side of you, not only the hero, but also the person behind it. At least when I watched it, I got to understand a lot of things that I’d never stopped to think about before and ended up feeling more connected to the person that helps protect us everyday.” The interviewer agrees with Steve, and you thank both of them with a huge grin. “By the way you talk, Captain, I am assuming you were present through the entire production?”

“Yeah, whenever I wasn’t on missions. She wanted to stick to the truth as much as possible, so I got to check every information before it was added to the movie, and also chat a little with the actors.”

“So,” the man says your name, “everybody wants to know, how was it like working with the world’s favorite superhero?”

“First of all, don’t fool yourselves, Captain America is a pain in the ass.” You say, earning a loud laugh from the interviewer as Steve feigns an offended look. Bucky agrees with you.

“I am not! And you should watch your language, miss. There are children watching this!” the blond exclaims. He’s laughing but it’s clear that he’s serious about the language thing.

“See?” You say, pointing to Steve since he just proved your point “The lectures are endless!” You roll your eyes playfully, and proceed to answer the question seriously. “Steve and I were already friends before everything, so yeah, it was pretty normal. The only difference is that we had to see each other a lot more than usual.”

“Since you talked about your relationship before the film, rumor is that you two are very close. So the internet is wondering, maybe there is something more than just friendship?” The interviewer asks in a suggestive tone. What the fuck?

Bucky watches as your smile falters and Steve’s eyes widen, both your reactions showing that this is an unexpected question. His heart starts to beat quickly as you answer with a dry “our friendship is strictly platonic”, but the soldier doesn’t wanna hear any more of that conversation. How dare the man ask something like that? And also, what does he mean with “the internet is wondering”? Does the internet think you and Steve are a couple? You and Steve? You and his fucking best friend? No, you are Bucky’s girlfriend. Okay, the internet doesn’t know that. And, alright, hiding the relationship was his idea in the first place, because of how the media sees him and how it could affect your career, but part of the agreement between you two was that you would never talk about your romantic life publicly, so you always make it clear that relationship talk during interviews is off limits, and it enrages him that someone would disrespect your boundaries like that. And again, you and Steve?

Bucky’s head is spiraling when he grabs his phone - that you teached him how to use - and searches for your name plus Steve Rogers. And that’s when he sees it. Gossip blogs suggesting that the two are dating and talking about how it would be the “perfect couple”, videos of you and Steve gazing at each other’s eyes and touching each other’s arms during interviews - Bucky knows those looks and touches were innocent, but apparently some people are really good at taking things out of context. There’s also photoshopped pictures of you two holding hands, hugging, kissing-

He doesn’t notice when the interview ends. He knows you and Steve are not together, but seeing all of those things made him sick to his stomach. And he felt his heart being ripped from his chest when he realized that you and Rogers would, indeed, make the perfect couple. Steve, the world’s first and favorite superhero, the one who carries the stars and stripes, the blond-hair-blue-eyes personification of perfection, and you, a hero that fights for justice, not with guns or a shield, but instead using all the power and influence you have to bring attention to the truth and try to help those in need. And Bucky? A brainwashed ex-assassin, hydra’s failed experiment, a broken man with a weapon instead of an arm and according to many people, a black hole instead of a heart. That’s why you couldn’t tell anyone about this relationship, because Bucky is not and will never be perfect for you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he doesn’t deserve you.

“Hey, babe!” You greet your boyfriend, entering the house you two share after a long day of meetings and interviews. You love what you do, but some days can be very stressful, today being one of them. After that fiasco of an interview that gave you and your agent a huge headache, you’re just glad you’re finally home with Bucky.

The brunet is sitting at the couch, elbows resting on his knees and head between his hands. Realizing he’s probably anxious or stuck in his own mind again, you walk over to this large frame, hold his wrists - flesh and metal - and move them away from his face. He’s a little startled with the sudden interaction, but relaxes as soon as he sees your warming smile.

“Hi, love.” You say, quietly, your heart breaking when you see the hurt in his beautiful blue eyes. "What 's wrong?”

“Nothing.” He immediately tries to hide his expression with a fake grin. “Nothing’s wrong, sweets.” And gives you a peck kiss.

His lie doesn’t fool you, because you know Bucky, and you can tell when he’s upset. If not for his posture when you came in and his pained expression, then for the way he didn’t greet you like he usually does, with a tight hug and a hot open-mouthed kiss that screams how much he missed you as the touch-starved man he is. But you also know that sometimes your boyfriend needs space, when he starts to drown himself in guilt or remembers all the torture and loss he was put through, and will only talk about it when he’s ready, if he wants to talk about it at all. These times, all you can do is remind him that you’re here, until he feels comfortable enough to speak, or until he gets better on his own without the need to verbalize the horrors inside his head.

You sit by his side and tangle your fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp softly. He leans into the touch and tells you how his day was when you ask him - avoiding the interview topic, because he doesn’t want to talk about that right now.

Bucky knows you can tell when he hides something. But he also knows that you are patient and loving and understanding, so when he doesn't want to talk about his feelings, you wouldn’t force him. Most days he’s glad for that, but today he wishes you had seen through his bullshit and just canceled dinner despite what he said.

“Do you want to call off dinner tonight? It’s okay if you do.” You had said while you two were still sitting on the couch, earlier today.

“No, it’s okay.” He answered, shaking his head.

You pursed your lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Now, as you talk happily with Natasha, Sam and Steve, Bucky can’t stop the anxiety in his chest. In fact, it gets a tiny bit worse every time you and his best friend talk about the movie or the interviews, joke about something that happened on set that he doesn’t understand or even when you two went to grab the wine bottle at the same time and your hands touched- Okay, Bucky’s definitely going insane. You are Steve’s friend. Friends talk and joke and share innocent touches. But it still hurts, because Steve would be better for you. If not Steve, then someone else who’s not a traumatized murderer that will only take you down with him and-

“..., right, love?” You squeeze Bucky’s thigh, bringing his attention back to the table.

He stares at you blankly, unaware of what was going on around him.

“Yeah- yeah, right.” Bucky mumbles, and then gets up from his seat. He can’t stay here anymore. “I have to go… grab something.”

After excusing yourself from the table, you find your boyfriend leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and eyes closed.

“Why didn’t you ask me to cancel dinner if you’re not feeling okay?” Your tone is sweet when you ask, there’s no judgment, only genuine worry.

“I am feeling okay.” He lies without opening his eyes.

“I know you’re not. You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” you try again, calmly.

“It’s just-” Bucky huffs, unfolding his arms to rub his flesh hand against his face. “You and Steve.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “What about me and Steve?”

“I’ve seen the interview, and what people are saying about you two on the internet.” he answers, finally looking at you.

“Oh, baby, it doesn’t matter-” You try to shrug it off, because it really doesn’t matter to you, but he interrupts.

“No, it does.”

His sudden interruption surprises you a little bit, but you don’t let it upset you. You know Bucky struggles to express his feelings sometimes. “Why?”

He just averts his gaze, putting on a sarcastic expression like he always does when he gets defensive. But there’s only one reason why Bucky would get defensive.

“Are you jealous?” You ask curiously, not mocking or teasing, just wanting to understand.

“I’m not-” There’s a little pause in which he seems to be considering his own feelings. “No, I’m not jealous.”

“Then what’s the problem, babe? You know Steve and I are not together.”

“It’s just that maybe you should, y’know.” Instead of explaining something, he just confuses you more with his words, uttered with such naturality as if it was the most obvious thing. If you weren’t so disoriented by this conversation, you’d be thinking that Bucky could make a great actor by how he’s good at hiding his emotions sometimes.

“What did you say?”

“I said maybe you two should be together. He knows you for longer than I do.” Bucky tries to come up with an excuse to what he just said, not wanting to explain his real motives.

“That’s not a reason- You’re not making any sense.” You say, still calm, trying to understand the situation as best as you can, because you have no idea why he would suggest something like that.

“Or maybe not Steve, but someone like him.” He continues, ignoring your confused look. But you can see that his defensiveness is slowly breaking.

“Someone like him? Bucky, what do you mean with all that?”

You really try to make sense of what he’s saying, but you can’t, because what the fuck is happening?

Then you see it. The way his Adam's apple moves up and down, his mouth tilts slightly downwards and both his hands clench in fists. But even if you didn’t know his body language so well, you’d still notice the searing pain emanating from his eyes.

“Someone that’s not broken. Someone that’s good, a hero. A person that you wouldn’t have to hide.” He whispers.

You can swear your heart has been ripped off your chest when the words sink in, the ones he said and the ones you know are eating his mind even though he didn’t say them out loud — I’m a burden. I’ll never be good enough. I’ll always have to be a secret, because people think I’m a monster. Because sometimes I think I’m a monster — and you finally understand his demeanor. But before you can say anything, Steve appears at the kitchen door, a concerned look in his eyes “Everything okay?”

Bucky immediately stiffens up and heads towards his friend, once again building up his walls. He can barely explain himself to you, he doesn’t need Steve to be added to the conversation. “Yeah, everything’s fine, pal.”

You watch as the man you love makes his way out of the kitchen and back to the dinner table, a lot of feelings making their way up your chest. You are worried, of course, but also hurt that Bucky could consider the possibility of letting you go to someone else and a little indignant that he thinks you are capable of loving another person as much as you love him. And you know that Bucky has a complicated past and it’s not your obligation to heal him entirely, but you can’t help but feel slightly disappointed in yourself, because even after two years trying to prove to him whenever you could that he is loved by you and he’s worthy of it, you still couldn’t get rid of those doubts that ate his mind every now and then.

After you two started dating, you made sure to always be honest about your feelings, constantly telling him that you love him, that you’re not gonna leave him, that you don’t care about what he’s done as the winter soldier, ‘cause it was never his choice, that he is enough and that yes, you truly think that he’s attractive and handsome and beautiful and hot and perfect even with the metal arm.

The first time he got back from a mission unconscious and heavily injured, you didn’t leave his side for even one second, terrified of losing him, until he woke up and the doctors assured you three times that he was going to be okay. Then you made your agent cancel all of your appointments for the next week and brought him to your house to take care of his wounds until there was no trace of them in any part of his body, even though he said you didn’t have to and that the serum would heal him. Before he got back to his old apartment, you made him promise that he would try to never do that again.

When you noticed that he never took off his shirt during sex, you had asked to see his scars and although he was insecure about it at first, he ended up trusting you. You remember gently tracing all the scarred skin, then kissing every inch where your fingers had touched, trying to show that he didn’t have to hide himself from you.

When he got unsure about how serious the relationship was and you noticed he was scared you would leave him, you asked him to move in with you, wanting to prove how serious you are about this.

Was all of that not enough to make him believe you? Does he still think you’re not serious when you rearrange your entire schedule after he gets back from missions just to be with him for a little longer? Does he think you’re lying when you talk about your love for him? When you do everything he needs to help him deal with the pain — even if what he needs is space and it kills you to be apart while he’s feeling depressed? What about all the times you gave yourself to him entirely, at late nights when your need for each other was so deep that you both let go of control?

No. You bury those insecurities at the back of your mind. You’re not gonna let them take over, you know you love Bucky and you’re gonna keep trying to prove it to him every single day, even if a part of him never believes you.

When you meet Steve at the door, he lowers his tone and points to his best friend. “Is this about the interview?”

“Kind of.” You sigh. “I’ll talk to him later.”

The rest of the dinner is fine. Bucky’s still quiet, he thought that he would feel better after taking everything out of his chest, but he somehow feels worse now. Steve shoots worried glances at both you and Bucky every now and then, but continues talking and joking like he was before. If Sam or Natasha noticed that you had a sadness in your eyes that wasn’t there before, none of them said anything.

“We know you're super important and busy, but don’t forget about us, mere mortals, alright?” Sam jokes, and you laugh before closing the door with a smile, saying goodbye to your friends. Mere mortals, yeah.

You sigh, making your way back to the kitchen, where your boyfriend had retreated to after saying a quick goodbye, a few minutes earlier. You’re aware that Bucky’s supersoldier senses pick up on your presence as soon as you enter the room, but he doesn’t say a word while he washes the dishes. You just stay there for a few minutes, watching how the muscles in his back flex with the movement of his arms, how the tight black shirt outlines his body, covering his torso, his biceps, the scars that you had seen and felt so many times before. God, you love him so much, and you’re gonna prove it to him. Over and over again, until he quits trying to push you away.

A famous song from the 40’s starts to play on the speaker, and you take the moment to get closer and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on his stomach. You place your chin on the crook of his neck and start to sing softly right next to his ear.

“I’ll never smile again Until I smile at you I’ll never laugh again What good would it do?”

Bucky stops what he’s doing. You know he loves when you hug him from behind and whisper in his ear.

“For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through”

Bucky closes his eyes to enjoy the moment and lets out a shaky breath when you place a kiss on his shoulder before continuing to sing.

“I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new”

Instinctively, he places his hands on top of yours. Both of them are cold, one due to the metal, the other due to the water, but you don’t care.

“Within my heart I know I will never start To smile again Until I smile at you”

You two stay like this for some minutes, eyes closed, bodies touching, the smell of the shampoo he used to wash his hair earlier filling your senses. When the song ends, Bucky turns in your arms to face you and whispers your name. But before he can say anything, you grab his face between your two hands.

“You are not broken. You are good. You are my hero. And I don’t love you any less just because no one else can see it.” You say firmly, one hundred percent sure of your words.

He still tries to argue, though.

“But I am-”

“You know what you are, Barnes? You are the love of my life. And I know I’m supposed to be patient and understanding, and let you figure things out on your own, but I can’t do it this time. I’m not gonna let another second pass with you thinking that Steve, or anyone else, would be better for me, ‘cause this is not true.”

Bucky lets out a heavy breath.

“I- I don’t- I’m not-” but he can’t find the words. Why won’t you see what he’s trying to show you?

You soften your eyes when you take in his expression. Bucky is on the verge of tears, mouth trembling, and it breaks your heart to see your soldier in so much pain because of stupid things people were typing on the internet - about him, about you, about your love life.

“What about you see what I am trying to show you?” You whisper, and only then he realizes he had said that out loud. “Because I’m trying to show you that I love you more than anything. All of you. The good parts and the bad ones. All your smiles and all your scars. And there’s nothing you can say, or do, that will make me stop adoring everything about you.”

You connect your lips with his before he has time to argue. It’s a loving kiss, slow and gentle, carrying every single feeling that burns inside your chest, communicating everything you want him to know - that you love him unconditionally, that you’re not gonna judge him for who he is, that you are his and he is yours. He reciprocates with the same amount of tenderness and love.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers when you break the kiss. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“It’s okay, love.” You whisper. “I know.”

And you crash your lips with his again, not so gentle this time.

Now that you managed to push his insecurities away, Bucky finally allows the familiar need for you to emerge once again. He lifts his flesh hand to the back of your head, holding it strongly while his tongue invades your mouth without any warning and he sucks on your lower lip. Even though you two had sex many times before, he always feels so desperate, never once failing to show you just how hungry he is for you. You break the kiss to giggle when he uses his metal hand to grip your hip with strength enough to leave a mark, but not to truly hurt you. Bucky would never hurt you.

“So eager to someone that just tried to break up with me.” You tease.

“Can’t even remember why I thought that was a good idea.” He places wet kisses through your jaw and neck. Bucky knows his insecurities are never gone that easily, and some of them will probably come back later to haunt his peace, but right now it doesn’t matter, because right now he wants you and he’ll do anything to get what he wants.

“Oh, something about how I should ditch you for Steve.”

“Let’s not talk about it. It was ridiculous.” He mumbles, feeling his self control slowly fade away with every touch of his lips on your skin. Talking is the less thing he wants to do, but apparently he’ll have to.

“Why? You don’t like the thought of your best friend doing this to me?” You ask with a smug smile, gesturing between you two.

Bucky stops what he’s doing and looks at you exasperated.

“Please don’t say this kind of thing ever again.”

“What? You wanted me to date Steve and thought we wouldn’t get intimate if we were together?” You ask, amused with his expression.

Actually, I haven’t thought about that part. Bucky sighs after he realizes you’re trying to not so subtly remind him of how absurd his idea was.

“Alright, I get it. It was stupid. Will you drop it now?” He pleads, feeling more frustrated each second that passes with him not being inside of you. Especially after your outrageous suggestion.

“It was stupid.” You’re aware of his desperation but choose to ignore it until he understands. “Promise you’ll never do that again?”

“Feeling insecure? I don’t think I can control that.” He mumbles.

“Assuming that you’re not worthy.” You tuck a strand of his short hair behind his ear. “It’s okay to feel insecure, really. But when you do, please just tell me, and I’ll remind you of how much I love you.”

You are not broken. You are good.

“Okay.” He whispers with a hoarse voice.

Bucky tries to kiss you again, but you hold his face a few inches away from you. Goddammit, woman!

“Promise?” You whisper, still refusing to give him what he wants. You need to hear him say it.

“I promise, sweets.” He answers, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Now can I please kiss you?”

His plea sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. Oh, you absolutely love when Bucky Barnes begs for you. Instead of answering with words, you return your mouth to his in a passionate kiss, with your arms around his neck.

Suddenly, the only thing that Bucky can think about is you, the delicious taste of your lips, the softness of your hair entangled between his flesh fingers, the tempting sounds you’re letting out against his mouth, the seductive touch of your skin on his skin-

“Want you so bad.” He murmurs in a rough voice, and before he realizes, he’s pushing you to your shared bedroom, never taking his mouth away from yours.

“Don’t worry, babe, I’m gonna take care of you.” You break the kiss to answer, making your intentions clear. You rarely act dominant during sex, but when you want to, you can get him to do pretty much anything you ask. That’s how much power you have over him, and although Bucky usually likes to be the one in charge, he sometimes enjoys being reminded that you have him entirely in the palm of your hand. And you certainly like to remind him that he can let go of his imposing behavior every once in a while. You drag your hands through his muscular stomach under the shirt, pronouncing the next words in a demanding voice. “Take your clothes off, Barnes.”

Knowing better than to disobey you, he undresses himself under your gaze. You had seen him naked countless times before, but you still take a moment to admire, and Bucky feels like he might die when your eyes travel slowly through his entire body, from the beautiful blue eyes, to the swollen lips, through the scarred skin where meat meets metal and his defined stomach, lingering on his muscular thighs and already hard length, then his legs and feet, and finally back to his eyes.

“Will I get to see you naked too?” He asks, already feeling smaller. Well, for a man that’s used to taking you by the waist, pushing you into the bed and easily ripping your clothes off, asking this kind of thing definitely makes him look smaller. Submissive. But it’s a good feeling.

“I’ll think about it.” You shrug and push his chest gently to make him sit on the bed. With him sitting down, slightly leaning back, and you standing on your feet between his legs, you look powerful, and it arouses him. You smirk, noticing his expression. “But tonight is about you. Gotta show my pretty boy how much I love him.”

Bending over just a little bit to reach his face, you start to kiss his cheeks, then the corner of his lips, his jaw and neck, all of that while lightly running your fingernails over his bare thighs. Bucky tries to hold back a groan.

“Don’t hold back your noises.” You whisper next to his ear, immediately catching on his shyness. He can feel your warm breath as you speak, and it sends shivers down his whole body. “Wanna hear you, my love.”

The man barely hears you, focusing on the feel of your nails on his skin. He loves it. He loves you. He wants you to touch his entire body with your hands and lips. He wants to be inside of you right now-

Bucky lets out a louder groan this time, and you happily continue your trail of kisses, on his shoulders, down to his stomach, until you’re on your knees in front of him, face to face with his thick cock, a little bit of pre-come already making its way down his reddened tip.

“Hands behind your back.” You order, using your arms to open his legs wider.

Leaning on his elbows, Bucky looks down at you startled. He’s not strong enough to keep himself from touching you while you give him a blow job. He utters your name in an almost whine, trying to argue, but a single look from you with arched eyebrows makes him shut up and obey. This is gonna be a hell of a long night, he thinks.

His dick gets impossibly harder when you pepper light kisses through his inner thighs and then bite and lick the same spots, so close from where he needs you, but still not touching it. “Sweetheart.”

“Yes?”

“I need you.” He mutters.

“What do you need me to do, Bucky?” You feign innocence, knowing exactly what he wants, but waiting for him to ask.

“Need you to- need your mouth.” He begs. “Please.”

Delicious noises emerge from his throat as soon as you start to slowly slide your tongue through his entire length with your mouth wide open, staring at his lust-filled eyes as you go. He clenches his jaw tightly when you wrap your lips around his tip, circling the sensitive area with your tongue. He grunts as he tries really hard not to jerk his hips up, and you take your time sucking and licking his tip, enjoying the reactions too much to rush this.

“Fuck.” He hisses. “Feels so good.”

He watches in awe as you guide one of his legs to rest on your shoulder. He wants to tell you that he’s too heavy and you don’t have to do that, but the words are lost in the dizziness of his brain when you take him so deep inside your mouth that his tip reaches the back of your throat. Rolling his eyes involuntarily, the only thing going through Bucky’s head is how heavenly you feel as you take him like this.

His cock is so thick and hard, and as you start bobbing your head up and down you can’t help the feeling that you’ll never have enough of him. You dig your nails into the thigh that’s resting on your shoulder and use the other hand to wrap his base, since he still doesn’t fit entirely inside your mouth. The almost pornographic sounds your boyfriend is making encourage you to fasten your movements, sucking harder and sending pleasure through every single nerve on his body. You let out a moan, and he almost loses it with the vibration it provides.

“Want to- fuck- gonna come.” He mumbles, throwing his head back with eyes screwed shut.

You take your mouth off his size with a loud pop and warn “Don’t.” Before going back to your motions.

In order to obey, Bucky tries to think about random, non filthy things like dolphins or wood tables or apples. He’s definitely not thinking about what you’re doing, the warmth of your mouth around his dick, the delicious pain of your fingernails scratching the back of his thigh, the way your pretty lips are deliciously sucking-

“I can’t-” He whines, involuntarily yanking his hips up. But the only thing you do is mutter a short “yes, you can” and place the hand that was involving his base on his lower stomach, silently ordering him to stay still.

The room is filled with his shaky breaths as he gathers every ounce of willpower that’s left to hold back his release. He wants so badly to please you, to make you proud and earn those sweet praises he knows you’ll whisper to him once you’re satisfied with his success.

When Bucky’s leg starts to tremble violently and you know he won’t be able to contain himself anymore if you keep going, you let go of him completely, standing on your feet once again. But before he can complain about the orgasm denial, you shut him up with a chaste kiss.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby?” you whisper against his lips, and laugh seductively when he tries to lift his hands to your hips. You hold his wrists before he reaches you. “Didn’t say you could touch me yet.”

He whines, but that’s all he can do about it. Aware of his struggle to keep his hands away, you start to take your clothes off, piece by piece. And don’t get me wrong, Bucky enjoys seeing you all dressed up in your fancy clothes and expensive shoes, he really does, but he absolutely loves the sight of you without any of them. The soldier keeps looking at you in adoration while you make him lay down and straddle him, holding both his wrists above his head.

“But I wanna touch you.” Bucky protests as soon as he notices what you’re doing, but doesn’t make any motion to move his hands off your grasp, even though he could easily do that. Instead, he tries to win you over with his words. “Wanna put my fingers inside that pretty lil’ pussy of yours. Wanna taste you. Make you come on my metal hand and then on my face-”

“Nice try, Barnes.” you interrupt before you actually give in to his suggestions. “But tonight it’s my turn to take care of you. Gotta remind you that you’re mine,” you lower your lips to his ear “and that I love you very, very much.”

You don’t wait for a response before you buckle your hips down, feeling his rock hard length between your wet folds. Both of you moan with the contact.

“So you’re gonna keep your hands where they are until I say otherwise, okay?”

Bucky nods, giving up his efforts because he’s simply desperate to just be inside you as soon as possible. With the confirmation, you bring both of your hands to lay on his chest and position the tip of his cock in your entrance, teasing a bit just to watch his lips tremble with anticipation. Inch by inch, you push your hips down on him, taking deep breaths to control yourself and keep the slow pace. Bucky provides you with quite the sight, eyes squeezed shut and lips slightly parted, his face is covered in red, the veins from his forehead are clearly visible under the skin and his hair is matted in a sweaty mess while he takes shallow breaths, waiting for you to go all the way down.

The thought that you could turn a man like Bucky Barnes — always so headstrong and stoic, walking around with a scowl and giving people those sarcastic scoffs — into a panting mess beneath you makes pleasure travel from the pit of your stomach to your core. There is something very sensual about the fact that the super soldier could easily bend you down to fuck you senseless (like he’s done many times), but allows you to have all the power anyway. More than allowing you, he wants you to have it, craves to surrender entirely under your strings. This man, who’s so desperate for control all the time, trusts you enough to let you dominate him completely. This knowledge at the same time makes your heart ache with love and the lower part of your belly tremble with bliss.

“You look so good beneath me, baby. All blushy and wild.” You praise, and the only thing his mind can think of as a response is more moans. The sounds are like music to your ears. A loud, obscene melody.

Finally, you take all of him, and Bucky succumbs to the feeling of your soft walls wrapping around his length. Not able to restrain his wish anymore, he begins to vigorously yank his hips up, trying to bury as much of himself as possible inside of you. You lose yourself in the intense feeling as his cock rubs over and over against that delicious spot that makes you see stars, and that deliciously familiar sensation starts to prickle under your skin.

The knuckles on his right hand are white from gripping the sheets with so much strength when he mutters under his breath. “Let me- Please, let me touch you.”

Having him beg for you is nice, but how are you supposed to say no when his request is so tempting? You hold his wrists and bring them to your waist. Without losing a moment, he immediately squeezes your boobs, pinches your nipples and then moves to grip your hips like his life depends on it, helping you with your motions as they’ve already started to become erratic.

Finally feeling your skin on his hands, Bucky feels his cock throbbing inside your cunt, and he knows he’s not gonna last much longer. “Gonna come. Can I come?”

“Yes, baby. Let go for me. I’ve got you.” You dug your nails on his shoulder blades, that delicious pressure starts to build up in your lower belly upon watching your composed soldier arch his back with pleasure, mouth open wide in an ‘O’ shape. “You’re such a good boy, baby. So fucking good to me”

Soon, excruciating pleasure crashes through Bucky’s body, and he feels himself falling off the edge as he fills you up with the product of his orgasm, panting violently while calling your name. Arousal courses through your veins with the scene, and it doesn’t take much for you to reach your own peak, rolling your eyes and feeling your body burn from inside out as your walls clench around his cock. You keep the unstable movement of your hips, prolonging both of your orgasms until the two of you come down from the high.

Feeling a little dizzy from your post-orgasmic haze, you plop down on his shoulder to catch your breath, hearing the loud thumps of his rapidly beating heart. He places a sweet kiss on your temple and starts to stroke your hair. You two stay like this for some minutes, silently waiting for your pants to turn into steady breaths.

You need to hold back a whimper at the sudden emptiness when you get off of him to lay down by his side and look at his shiny blue orbs. You cup his sweaty face and stroke his cheekbone.

“You’re the only person in the world that can make me feel like this.” You whisper, and he understands what you mean.

He gives your thumb a light kiss and smiles softly. “I know. I’m sorry that I forgot it for a moment.”

“It’s okay, love. I’ll be pleased to remind you again and again, every single time you forget.” You grin and place a kiss to the top of his nose. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily."

And at this moment Bucky thinks that although he would never be perfect for you in society's eyes, he doesn’t care anymore. Yeah, he may not be the most admirable and put-together man that walks on this earth, but maybe what he is can be enough. Maybe the efforts he makes everyday with the sole intention of being a better man for you — even though not always successful — are enough. Maybe loving you with all his heart and trusting you unconditionally is enough. Perhaps one day the world will finally see him as something other than a monster and you will finally be able to tell the world that he is yours — like he knows you want to do —, but while it doesn't happen, he is satisfied to have only you thinking he’s worthy and good. Because, at the end of the day, you are the one that matters. You will always be the only one that matters.

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