#gyokujyn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

natashadied4oursins · 8 months

Text

The Boyfriend Package-Chapter 1

@gyokujyn Still needs to be edited.

Summary: MC has a terminal illness. Since she's never had love, she's decided to pay for it via an escort service. The Boyfriend Package includes all things real couples do besides the sex. (I wrote this while I had my own health scare. It was very therapeutic).

A/N: There will be a Happy Ending. If there's anything offensive, please let me know.

Pairings: Bucky/female OC

Words: over 5k

Trigger warnings: terminal illness and the thoughts and feelings that come with it.

Warnings: Thigh riding and swearing.

The Boyfriend Package, Chapter 1

“Evening, baby! I missed you!”

Damn, Bucky looked better than his pictures. Tall, muscular, with bright blue eyes, short brown hair, and a roguish stubble. He was one of the men she’d chosen from the website. She’d secretly wanted him, but she would only allow the agency to send men who were aware of her situation and were completely onboard.

Her mouth was suddenly dry; she swallowed and smiled brightly accepting the yellow orchids in his hand. She’d never been given yellow orchids before, but they looked very cheerful and friendly. She gave him a peck on his cheek, his stubble tickling her.

“Missed you too, babe! Oh, let me get your jacket.” She was trying to find a place to set the flowers, but he’d already taken his brown leather jacket off. He held his motorcycle helmet under his arm while he pulled off his brown leather gloves.

“I got it, doll.”

Doll? That wasn’t on the pre-approved list of pet names, but she’d allow it.

She gestured to the hall closet where he hung his jacket and set his helmet and gloves on the top shelf—one she always had a hard time reaching.

Yup. Those were the muscles she saw online—his black Henley was clinging onto his large, strong body for dear life. He caught her staring but didn’t say anything; he just gave her a tiny smirk. Of course, he knows how gorgeous he is!

“You can put your shoes by the door…if you want.” She quickly headed to the kitchen where an empty vase was waiting by the sink. She filled it with water and put the vase on the fireplace mantel in the living room—a fire already burning.

“What do you feel like doing tonight?” he asked leaning on the pillar separating the kitchen from the foyer.

She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. His pictures made him look like a bad boy, but he had such a kind face. He held her gaze, which was nice, but then again, he probably had plenty of practice in his line of work.

“Do you mind if we stay in? I made some spaghetti and meatballs.” She knew he didn’t have any dietary restrictions, and it was a simple dish to make. She wanted to save any energy she had left for their “date.”

He walked over until he was standing right in front of her, his hand on her back. He tilted his head. “Sounds yummy. Do you need any help?”

He was flirting with her, and it was making her forget how to form coherent sentences. “Plates,” she pointed to the higher shelf, “up there, please.”

He towered over her. She barely reached his shoulders in height. She wasn’t a fan of such a height difference, but it wouldn’t matter in the long run.

“Of course, doll.” His eyes lingered on hers until she made herself focus on setting the table and grabbing the utensils, cloth napkins, the bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, the smaller bowl of salad, and the salad dressing.

The kitchen table wasn’t as big as the dining room table, but it was nice and intimate. She sat opposite him for some friendly distance since they didn’t know each other very well. Before the silence got too awkward, she was going to ask him how his day went, but he held out his left hand across the table for her to take.

She giggled nervously as she took his hand in hers. His hand was so big and warm on her skin considering it had been pretty cold outside. She felt the callouses on his hand and wondered how he got them. Did he work with his hands? Did he work out a lot? Look at him! Of course he did, dummy!

“How was your day, sweetheart?” The pet name made her heart flutter.

“I read a bunch.” The truth was she was exhausted from her treatment a few days ago. She thought she’d timed their “date” well expecting the side effects to be minimal that night. She’d mostly slept, read, and watched tv. She made herself rest because she was looking forward to meeting Bucky.

“Anything good?” he asked shoving a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying the food—that was comforting.

“Just some sci-fi fantasy. The one I’m reading has a nice little planet where it’s nighttime for most of their year, and the stars are always sparkling. It’s a common tourist destination for couples from other planets.”

He nodded as she spoke—like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. He was good.

“I’ll be sure to book us a trip some time,” he said running his thumb on the back of her hand.

She smiled at the thought of them on that little planet. Having a fancy dinner and dancing the night away—which could last as long as they wanted.

She asked him about his day. “Me and some buddies helped a friend move. He just bought a house, so there were a lot of boxes and furniture. I’m still pretty sore, so I’m glad we’re staying in.”

Of course, she had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth or if it was part of his persona. She was pretty sure “Bucky” wasn’t his real name, but it was all part of the fantasy.

“Don’t worry, I took a shower before I came over.” He gave her a wink.

“That was very considerate of you,” she giggled. What was with all the giggling like a little girl?

She had the image of him without his shirt on, sweat all over his chest and his hair sticking to his forehead…because all hot guys went shirtless when helping their friends move, right? Damn, it had been way too long since she’d had sex.

She quickly changed the subject. “Did you want to watch a movie after? Or binge a tv show?”

“How ‘bout a movie?” he offered, his voice brighter with excitement.

“Which one?”

“You pick.”

“Oh, no! You don’t want that. Otherwise, you’d be falling asleep while I watch romantic comedies. How about an action movie? Or a heist movie?”

He squeezed her hand. “We can watch a rom-com. My sister watched a bunch of them growing up, so I’ve built a tolerance to them.”

Cute and funny? She didn’t stand a chance.

It wasn’t long before Bucky finished both his helpings, and he patted his stomach—or his abs; the man didn’t look like he had a stomach.

“Thanks for cooking, doll. It was really good.” She was about to thank him for the compliment when he said, “Doesn’t look like you ate much.” He looked at her with concern.

She withdrew her hand from his and crossed her arms. She couldn’t look at him.

She specifically requested that the men the agency send over not bring up her illness or anything related to it. Maybe he didn’t get the message.

“I had a late lunch with the girls,” she said—an obvious lie. “Had a huge burger and fries.”

She stood up to gather the dishes, but he stopped her and put the dishes in the sink himself. “You cooked, so I got the dishes.” He put his arms around her and pressed his forehead to hers making her breath catch. “Why don’t you pick out a movie?”

She held onto his upper arms for support, feeling the solid muscles under her hands. She wanted to explore more of his arms, his back, everywhere, but she didn’t want to start anything like that yet. She wanted them to get used to each other first.

He felt so warm and comforting and safe. She was grateful she hadn’t lost too much weight and had plenty of…padding…for him to hold on to; she didn’t want to give him an excuse to pity her or treat her differently.

“Ok,” she said against his lips.

“That’s my girl,” he said and kissed her forehead—a simple kiss and it felt so intimate.

Her body tingled at his praise, and she just stood dumbfounded. When she didn’t make a move to leave, he said, “Or we could just stay like this—I don’t mind.”

He pressed her body against his in a warm embrace and said in a soft, deep voice, “I could stay like this all night, doll.” He kissed the top of her head.

She could stay like that all night too, but there would be plenty of cuddling on the couch.

She gave his arm a pat and said, “I’ll pick a movie.”

“Go on then,” he gave her butt a gentle smack making her yelp.

They both laughed, and she headed to the living room to turn on her smart tv. She looked back to find him still watching her. Just pick a movie! What movie was cheesy and not at all serious?

She’s All That? No, the main character’s mother died of a long illness. 28 dresses? No, it focused too much on getting married—something she would never get to do. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days? No, it involved fake relationships—too real.

Notting Hill. Sure. A British guy dating an American celebrity, and their biggest problem was the paparazzi? Perfect.

“What’d you decide on, doll?” He brought over two glasses of water for them. She didn’t ask for it, but she needed to drink more water anyway.

“Notting Hill? Ever seen it?”

“Wow! About a million years ago with my sister.”

She wondered if he really did have a sister. No. That wasn’t important.

He sat on the couch practically squishing her against the armrest making her giggle. He put her legs across his lap and grabbed a nearby blanket to put over them. She tucked herself as best she could; she’d been getting colder than usual lately. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled herself against his warm chest. She wouldn’t need the blanket or fireplace soon with his body against hers.

She handed him the remote control so her arms could stay under the blanket. It was amazing how natural it felt being together. Playing with each other, touching each other, holding each other…

He started the movie that began with a montage of the American celebrity played by Julia Roberts at work while a song played at the forefront.

“Who’s on you List?”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “My List?”

“You know the one. The List of celebrities that you would be allowed to sleep with should you actually have the chance.” She interrupted his protest by saying, “And don’t tell me you don’t have one or that you would never go through with it given the chance.”

His chest rumbled with his laughter making her giggle. He ran his hand over his face, embarrassed, then held her legs closer to his body.

“Ok, ok!” He started thinking. “I think Anna Kendrick’s pretty cute.”

“Good choice…”

“Amy Adams.”

“She’s not too old for you?”

“Hell no—she still looks good!”

She giggled. “Ok. And…?”

“Rosario Dawson.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “The girl-next-door? That’s your type?”

“What?!” He shrugged innocently. Oh, this guy was good.

“Bullshit! Give me a ridiculously over-the-top-gorgeous celebrity you’d sleep with right this second!” she playfully demanded.

He ducked his head shyly. “Penelope Cruz.”

“That’s more like it!”

He nuzzled his nose with hers like it was a normal thing for them. “I can’t help what I like.” She wanted to call him out again, but she was having way too much fun. “Besides,” he said shaking his head repeatedly, “I would never, ever, ever, sleep with those girls when I have you.”

She felt her cheeks redden. The obnoxiously sweet and cheesy boyfriend was exactly what she always wanted but was too damn chicken-shit to go after. Money was more important, she’d told herself, but deep down she was an insecure little girl. She was an idiot.

She rested her head back on his chest. “Damn right.”

“Wait! Who’s on your list?” He gently shook her.

“Shhh! Hugh Grant’s doing his voiceover.”

“Wait. Did you just play me?” He started tickling her. “Did you?”

“No!” she couldn’t help the laughter bursting out from her. She tried to grab his hands or his wrists to stop him, but he would just slip from her grasp. “No!”

When she started kicking her feet, he finally stopped, and they both stared at each other as their laughter died down. She looked at his plump lips, and she saw his eyes flick to hers. She wanted to make out with him—and she could—but for some reason she didn’t make a move.

“The meet-cute’s coming up,” she said softly and lowered her head against his chest to watch the movie.

He held her and leaned his chin on top of her head. It felt nice. They’d all felt nice; they were professionals after all. Bucky was just the better actor. An escort who could act. She might keep him if he didn’t run away like the others.

“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

“That’s probably the cheesiest line in cinematic history,” she said toward the end of the movie.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed soberly. “It’s terrible.”

“But it worked,” she sighed shaking her head.

“Well, not yet. Remember, he still has to do the whole running-after-the-girl-before-she-flies-back-home-and-they-never-see-each-other-again thing.”

“Right. Because he can’t fly to the US to be with her. That would be crazy.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of flying? No, if Meg Ryan could do it, so could he.” Wow, he’d actually seen French Kiss?

“Maybe he’s on the No-Fly list…” she offered.

“This was made before there was a No-Fly list…”

“Right. I fuckin’ love the nineties.”

“They had the best movies.”

“Oh, there he goes!” she called, awkwardly pointing at the screen under the blanket.

They cuddled through the whole kind-of-declaration-of-love scene, but the ones that followed were what finally got her. Julia Robert and Hugh Grant’s characters’ getting married, then the last shot with him sitting at a park bench reading with one hand while the other holds hers, and her lying on her back with her head on his lap, her feet over the arm rest, and her free hand over her pregnant belly.

Such a simple, sweet, mundane moment between two people that loved each other—and they were going to have a baby. She would never have any of that.

Here it comes…

She clutched Bucky’s shirt and sobbed against his chest. It didn’t matter what rom-com they watched—she would’ve ended up crying just the same. She should’ve known that.

Bucky reached over to the side table and grabbed a couple of tissues for her. He held her close while nuzzling his cheek against the top of her head.

This was what she wanted. This was what she paid for. A shoulder to cry on. It was on the top of her list of requests. There would be crying, and she wouldn’t hold back. Crying was therapeutic for her, but she wanted someone to hold her while she did it. Someone who didn’t have a vested interest in her health but could comfort her like they did. That’s why her last “boyfriends” left—too much crying. Too many instances of facing their own mortality. How long would this one last?

“I got you, baby,” he said soothingly, holding her tightly, rubbing her back every now and then. “I got you.”

She sobbed and cried and cried. He never tried to shush her or tell her everything was going to be ok; he just let her cry.

“Let it out; I got you.”

That only made her cry more. Not only would she never have what the couple in the movie had, but the very thing that was happening—someone who “got her” and cared for her—wasn’t real. But that’s what she signed up for, so she just let herself believe it was real as she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.

Bucky handed her more tissues, but he didn’t make a move to let her go or pull away. He kissed her temple and kept holding her.

After a while, she cleared her throat and said, “It’s just a really great movie.”

“Yeah.” After a long pause he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Her back stiffened and she lifted her head to look at him. He was doing it again. If she wanted to talk about her illness, then she would bring it up.

“No.” She lowered her head back down.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said a bit forcefully. “I already have a shrink.”

“I’m sorry,” he said rubbing her back. “I didn’t mean to upset you, baby.”

That’s right, buddy. Stay in your lane.

“I know, babe,” she said gently. She put her hand on his chest, and it wandered over to his heart. It had a steady rhythm; her mini freak out didn’t scare him.

“I definitely think we should watch an action movie now,” she faked a cheerful demeanor hoping to change the subject.

“Ooh, I’m thinking a heist movie! The Italian Job? Ocean’s Eleven? Twelve? Thirteen? Eight?”

She pulled away from him completely and sat straight up. “Ocean’s Eight? Have you seen Ocean’s Eight?”

“Yeah,” he said, his brows furrowed. “With Sandra Bullock—I would add a younger Sandra Bullock to my list, by the way. It’s a fun movie.”

“I didn’t think any guys actually liked that movie. The whole ‘gender-bending,’ ‘trying-to-be-woke,’ ‘women aren’t funny,’ blah, blah, blah…’”

“Nah! I know plenty of guys who liked the movie—they just won’t admit it.”

“You’re bullshitting me,” she poked at the muscles on his arms.

“Am not!” He flinched at her little attack, “I’ll show you. Play the movie; come on!”

She rolled her eyes and pulled the blanket off her. “I need a bathroom break. You can find the movie.” She made sure to gather all the used tissues and headed to the bathroom.

She leaned against the sink, hoping the sudden wave of nausea would subside. She looked in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, but Bucky hadn’t said anything. He was such a nice guy. Probably.

She splashed water on her face and took deep breaths. She really didn’t want to take her anti-nausea medication; it had some not-so-fun side effects. When she was sure she wouldn’t throw up, she found Bucky in the kitchen.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I figured some warm tea would be nice.”

She saw he had a kettle on the stove. “I have a tea kettle?!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “it was hiding in the back of one of the cabinets.”

She shrugged. “I just use the microwave.”

He slammed his hand against his heart dramatically, “Sacrilege! My grandma was British, and she would’ve boxed my ears if I made tea in the microwave.”

“‘Boxed your ears?’ Is she also the one who told you to call women ‘doll?’”

His cheeks turned pink, and he shrugged his shoulders. “She babysat me a lot and she’d always watch those old movies…”

She felt herself grinning like an idiot as she held his gaze. She couldn’t help it; he was such a cutie.

He cleared his throat and started rummaging through her little basket of different kinds of tea and chose the ginger tea her mom had given her to help with nausea. She didn’t think she’d let on about her nausea, but he figured it out…or it was just a coincidence.

She didn’t know how she felt about him taking care of her in that way. She figured it would happen eventually when her illness progressed, but she didn’t want to be in that place yet in their “relationship.”

“I’ve been meaning to try that one,” she said indicating the ginger tea unable to make eye contact. “I’ll go find the movie.”

The movie was already on the screen, so she just fiddled around reading the small bios of the actors until Bucky brought the tea over.

“Did you know Sandra Bullock actually speaks German? Her mom was German,” she said starting the movie. She propped her feet up on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I think I heard that…” He set her mug on her side table, and he put his on the coffee table next to her feet.

“You can put your feet up,” she offered.

It was funny. She never would have let anybody put their feet on her coffee table before—now, she just didn’t care. She’d let all the little things go; they were all bullshit anyway.

Bucky put his feet up then brought the blanket over them. He grabbed his mug in one hand and brought his other arm around her shoulder, holding her to him.

“Hold on,” she said as she sat up, took off her sweater and tossed it aside. “Your body’s a freakin’ furnace.” She gave him a playful smirk.

“Oh, come on,” he said, “You know I got the hots for you.”

Her jaw dropped and she covered her eyes with her hand. “Oh my god, that was so bad!” She cringed at the bad pun.

“You walked right into it!” He said pulling her body close to his.

“That was so terribly bad!” She shook her head. After she recovered, she grabbed her mug and let it warm her hands for a bit.

They watched the movie and laughed and made little comments like they did with the other movie. There was no romantic storyline—in fact, it involved getting back at an asshole ex. It took a while for her to realize that she didn’t feel nauseous anymore. The tea must’ve worked.

“Ok, I change my mind,” Bucky said, “I’d have sex with Sandra Bullock at this age…”

She gasped dramatically, sitting up and smacking his arm. “No way! Even with all the plastic surgery?”

“Hey, that’s Hollywood’s fault; not hers.” He held his hands up in defense. “Sandy deserves to have a good time.”

“And you’re just the guy to make that happen…”

He held her close and lowered his head, so they were practically nose-to-nose. His voice dropped as he softly said, “If I wasn’t already with you, of course.” He licked his lips as his eyes wandered to her lips.

“Nice save,” she said huskily. She shouldn’t kiss him yet. Right? Well, maybe just a peck…

She set her mug aside then held his face in her hands to give him a quick kiss, but it lasted just a few seconds longer than intended. He tasted so good—like the ginger tea he was drinking and the Italian sauce from dinner. He smelled like pine and musk, and it made her dizzy with need.

She pulled away fully intending to go back to watching the movie when she caught his eyes. She could barely see any of the baby blue—only large saucers of black. Before she could guess what made his pupils dilate, his hand was on the back of her neck holding her as he kissed her.

He devoured her like a man starved, he moaned at her taste, and she couldn’t make herself pull away from him. She let out her own whimper, her core throbbing and she found herself grinding against his thigh. The lace of her panties and the denim of her jeans reached hidden places inside of her making her moan.

His hands were on her ass dragging her back and forth on his thigh making her cry out. Just the feel of his large hands on her ass made her slick. “Bucky!” Her hands held on to his arms for dear life.

He trailed kisses down her neck until he found the spot that made her shiver. “Take what you need, baby,” he breathed. “Let me take care of you.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she was all riled up. It was better to release on his thigh than risk actually having sex with him.

He licked the fabric over her nipple then sucked on it. She gasped actually feeling him through her shirt and bra. “Fuck, Bucky!”

“Next time, baby,” he said and gave her other nipple the same treatment with the addition of some playful bites.

“Oh, god, I’m close!” The pleasurable pain got her more wet.

Bucky’s hands on her ass pushed and pulled her faster on his thigh. “That’s right, baby. Give it to me!”

Her hands found their way to the back of his head and neck, nails running on his scalp. “Oh, fuck, fuck, shit!”

“Let go, baby, let go!” He bit her other nipple and pressed down a little harder.

She let out a sob and a quiet moan as she held on to him pining his head to her chest and dragging her nails across his back. She soaked her panties and jeans, and he kept grinding her against his thigh prolonging her pleasure.

Her clit was becoming sensitive, and as her orgasm died down, another took its place. She gasped for breath and gave an unladylike grunt.

“I want all of it, baby!” Bucky growled greedily.

She felt tears stream down her cheeks. She should stop him—it was becoming too much—but she didn’t. It felt incredible.

“One more should do it; come on, baby!” He sucked hard on her neck, and he squeezed her ass just a bit tighter.

Not wanting to disappoint him and having no dignity left, she held on. The pleasure became overwhelming, and she cried out as if in pain as her last orgasm overtook her and her mind floated away.

There was no illness, no responsibilities, no loved ones to comfort…just her and Bucky and bliss. She heard his voice in the distance of her clouded mind.

“You did so good, baby.” He was peppering kisses all over her face. “You were such a good girl for daddy.”

“Daddy?” She breathed out confused. She didn’t agree to call him that, but she didn’t have the brain capacity to dwell on it.

“That’s right, daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

He brought her mug up to her lips. The tea was cold, but it was just what she needed; she was parched.

“There you go; just a little more…”

She was still a little floaty and not in complete control of her limp body. Bucky said he was going to take care of her, right? She should just let him.

After he took her tea away, her forehead fell on his shoulder, and she just stayed that way.

“Look at the mess you made, baby,” he softly chided in her ear. “You made a mess all over yourself.”

“Mmm hmm,” she agreed but didn’t have the energy to look at her soaked jeans.

“Next time you’re gonna make a mess on daddy, aren’t you?” His breath tickled her ear.

“Yeah, daddy.” She would agree to anything at that moment.

“Good girl,” he kissed her temple and held her close while she recovered.

When the fog of her high cleared, she adjusted herself on his thigh, trying to avoid her sensitive parts. Her knee brushed against his groin, and she felt him twitch in his pants.

He gasped, holding back a grunt. “Easy, baby. I’m not gonna be able to stop myself if you keep that up.”

Oh, fucking yeah. That’s exactly what she wanted. No, she had to contain her hormones.

“Do you need help with that?” she asked genuinely concerned. “You could use my bathroom if you want…”

“You sure?” he asked as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

She snorted, “Yeah, showers are really good at cleaning up those kinds of messes—not that I would know personally…”

“Yeah, yeah, smartass.” He kissed her forehead and helped her off his thigh and onto the couch cushion.

He disappeared into the bathroom as she made herself comfortable against the armrest. She pulled her sweater back on since she didn’t have his body to keep her warm. She held her knees close to her chest and just sighed thinking about their night together.

It felt like they’d known each other and had been dating for months. She was so comfortable around him, and he seemed to be with her. She and the other guys never seemed to get comfortable with each other; not that she could blame them. It was an unusual arrangement after all.

Bucky came back and sat sideways on the couch facing her, one arm on the back of the couch and the other on her knee rubbing circles on it.

“Better?” she asked cheekily.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“So…’daddy?’” She had to tease him.

His cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, it’s one of my kinks. Is that ok?” He furrowed his brows anxiously.

“For now I guess, but aren’t kinks inherently sexual? I don’t want to cross any lines.”

She really liked him and didn’t want to lose him by breaking the rules.

“They don’t have to be. There’s a lot we can do besides sex.” He was serious in his explanation, but there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“I think what we did kind of blurred the line, don’t you think?”

“That wasn’t sex,” he sounded confident, like a highschooler explaining to his girlfriend that she couldn’t get pregnant her “first time.”

“Oh really? What was it?” She held in a laugh.

“Hmm,” he pretended to think. “Helping you masturbate?”

She had to laugh out loud at that one. “Which isn’t sexual at all?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t sexual; I’m just saying it’s not us having sex.”

She smacked the hand on her knee. “You’re a big perv, aren’t you?”

“Nah! I just know what I like.” He took the hand that smacked him and interlaced his fingers with hers.

He knows what he likes? As in girls or sex or what…?

“But,” he ducked his head to meet her eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m just letting you know there’s…options.”

She felt her face heat up. “I wasn’t aware of these options.” She bit her bottom lip nervously. “I’ll think about it, but it’s not why I want to be with you.”

Bucky leaned in closer. “It’s not why I want to be with you either, doll.” She searched his eyes; he seemed so genuine. Maybe he was just very empathetic.

She squeezed his hand. “I think we should call it a night.” It was the longest “date” she’d ever been on with any of her “boyfriends.” She wanted to end the evening on a high note.

“You sure?” He searched her eyes.

“Yeah.” She gave him her big, goofy smile which made him smile.

“Ok,” he stared at her for a moment then got up.

He folded the blanket while she took the mugs and cups to the kitchen sink. She watched him put his shoes back on and get his leather jacket, gloves and helmet from the hall closet. When she came over to let him out, he held her close to his chest with his free hand and kissed the top of her head.

“I had a great time, doll.”

She lifted her chin, “I did too…handsome.”

He looked away and shook his head, embarrassed. “Good night.”

“Good night.” She made sure the goodnight kiss was short but sweet.

He seemed hesitant to leave, but it could’ve been in her head. She was ok with him staying forever, but that wasn’t realistic. She closed the door behind him and leaned her head on the door. She took a few deep breaths then went to the kitchen to wash the mugs and cups.

“Damn,” she sighed. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

What she didn’t see was that Bucky hadn’t moved since she closed the door. He was still; his eyes were wet, and he fought like hell to keep them back.

She was wonderful. She was smart, funny, beautiful, had a smart mouth, a great body, and such strength he’d never seen before. He had some very dirty, depraved thoughts about her while he relieved himself in her shower.

He’d gone on these “dates” plenty of times—he’d had some great ones with some really nice women—this was something else. His heart pounded in his chest, and he blinked himself out of his reverie.

“I’m fucked.”

A/N: If there's anything offensive, please let me know.

#gyokujyn

5 notes · View notes