Chapter Text
I’m not in love
So don’t forget it
It’s just a silly phase I’m goin’ through
And just because I call you up
Don’t get me wrong
Don’t think you got it made
I’m not in love, no, no
It’s because…
I’d like to see you but then again
That doesn’t mean you mean that much to me
So if I call you
Don’t make a fuss
Don’t tell your friends about the two of us
I’m not love, no, no
It’s because…
-“I’m Not in Love” by 10CC
Catching feelings during a Friends with Benefits situation is a helluva thing.
Not that you ever thought you’d land yourself in said situation, but damn sure not with none other than a bonafide Avenger, Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes.
You’d decided to go to a favorite dive bar in Brooklyn for the Superbowl since bad luck and a skank ex-girlfriend had just recently relieved you of your latest boyfriend and you felt a bit alone. You’d found a comfortable spot at the bar, but with the special game being hosted, it meant more new people and fewer of the old crowd you liked. You managed to accidentally attract the attention of some pushy frat boy that seemed to think the word “no” was a suggestion instead of a command.
“Hey, your drink’s getting low,” he said as he inserted himself between you and the guy beside you at the next commercial break. He was average height and weight with floppy brown forelocks and he reeked of Budlight already even though it was only a half hour into the game. You were quickly losing your temper with his refusal to go away, but you didn’t want to bother the busy bouncer at the door nor the equally busy bartender. If he kept it up, you’d sadly have to leave and find another bar. “Why doncha let me take care of that for ya?”
“Look, I’ve said no three times already,” you finally snapped, not caring if it would earn you his ire this time or not. “What’s it gonna take for you to walk away from me?”
The guy sucked his teeth. “Puh-leeze. You think I don’t know a desperate piece of ass when I see it? You play hard to get, but we both know you want this di—”
He squawked as a tall, brown-haired, blue-eyed man grabbed his wrist and twisted his entire left arm behind his back awkwardly. The handsome stranger wore a grey t-shirt, black leather jacket, and black jeans, his expression unnervingly calm, but somehow filled with tranquil fury. “What the fuck?!”
“You’re cut off,” the stranger said. “Pay your tab and get the fuck outta the bar before I tune you up. Oh, and don’t forget to apologize first.”
“What?!” the frat boy sputtered, trying to turn, but the arm lock stretched his upper torso out and made him dance around on his tiptoes. You took a calm sip of your drink and crossed one leg, watching the show with utter enjoyment.
“You wasted her time and just insulted her and pretty much all women, if I’m being honest,” the stranger continued in the same facetiously patient tone. He glanced at you, lifting his eyebrows. “Right, miss?”
“Right,” you chirped sweetly. “Thank you, sir.”
“So like I said,” the stranger continued, twisting the drunken idiot’s arm harder until he squealed again. “Apologize, pay the tab, make sure to leave a good tip, and go home before I break your legs and we both watch you drag your ass to the curb for a fucking Uber.”
“O-Okay, okay!” the frat boy cried, facing you more squarely. “I’m sorry, alright? Here!”
He fished his wallet out one-handed and you snatched it free, pulling out way too much for a tip and then slapping it back into his palm. The stranger then shoved him towards the door and the peon quickly scampered off without another word, visibly scared witless.
“Christ,” the stranger muttered with a shake of his head. “Is this what the world’s come to?”
“Sadly, yes, sergeant, but I think you’ve tipped the scales back in the right direction for once.”
His tall frame stiffened, then the ex-Winter Soldier, Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, finished stepping out of the shadowed part of the bar with a bit of a rueful smile on those infinitely fuckable lips. “What gave me away?”
“The Respect Women juice you’re obviously drinking there,” you joked, then offered a softer, more appreciative smile. “But mostly that you did anything at all. This world is unfortunately now full of observers. Most men would wait until he hit me to intervene, if they would at all. They told me you haunt this place every once in a while and figured we finally just bumped into each other.”
You offered your hand and told him your name. He smiled in return and shook it once, not squeezing hard nor lingering with his touch for too long. “Well, I’m sorry if that looked kinda…uh…chauvinistic of me, assuming you couldn’t handle the little punk.”
You shook your head. “No, you prevented me from getting my hands dirty or having to deal with any dirtbag cops. I didn’t take it that way in the slightest. Besides, a gross guy like that can’t even hear the word no until an actual man says it to him. He needed that lesson taught to him.”
Bucky then nodded. “Well, I hope I didn’t spoil your night.”
“Nonsense!” You patted the now open stool beside you. “Take a load off, sarge. Rooting for anyone in particular this year?”
Bucky settled on the stool after bringing his own beer over from where he’d been sitting in a booth alone in the corner. He made sure to pass his previous waitress a twenty for waiting on him, which you loved. “Betting on the Giants to take the win.”
You chuckled and clinked your beer with his. “Godspeed.”
“Thanks. Seen you in here a few nights. How long have you been here?”
“A little under two years, so enough to finally start to become a regular around this area. I’m an associate editor, so I work from home for most of the year. I’m a bit of a hermit crab; only started making myself go out recently on account of my no account boyfriend dumping me for his ex.”
Bucky frowned. “Aw, come on. That’s just fucking cliché. Seriously?”
“Yep,” you grumbled bitterly. “So I’m forcing myself outside or else I’m gonna turn into that evil old bitch from Great Expectations. Not that this guy was my One that Got Away or anything. It just…sucks. It sucks to be over thirty and back to square one. Everyone starts judging you and wondering what’s ‘wrong’ with you and oh my fucking God, I am trauma dumping on an actual Avenger. Bucky, for the love of God, stop me.”
He burst out laughing then at the strained blush on your face. “Whoa, girlie, calm down. That’s not trauma dumping. You sound like you’ve had a really shitty time lately, that’s all. Easy.”
You shook your head and pushed your beer bottle aside. “Maybe I need to be cut off too.”
“Relax,” Bucky said in an amused tone. “I’m sorry some bum did that to you. Gimme his address and I’ll tune his ass up too.”
You grinned as you pictured Bucky slamming your ex-boyfriend’s head into his own front door several times. “Is that like a service you offer now? 1-800-Knuck-If-You-Buck?”
He laughed again. “Nah, s’just one I reserve for pretty girls with bad luck.”
You scoffed, blushing anyway. “Oh, you stop that shit right now, sarge.”
He widened his baby blues to look innocent. “What?”
“Don’t you dare try to charm me and make me feel better.” You then stuck you hand beside your mouth and stage-whispered, “Compliment me non-stop and make sure everyone around us can hear you.”
“Got it, baby doll. Will do. Sorry you’ve had such a bad time with these jerks out here. I hear that’s starting to become the norm, sadly.”
“Oh? You don’t have a special someone either?”
Bucky winced, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m…not sure it’s right.”
“Right?” you echoed. “How so?”
“I got a lot going on up here—” He gestured to his temple. “—and I’m both famous and infamous. Not sure I should drag some poor girl into my mess.”
“That’s not fair to you,” you said softly. “Come on, now. Sure, you’ve got a rough past, but that’s no reason to completely isolate yourself. I’m very sure there are a lot of girls who think dating you is worth the trouble.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I know, but you get why is makes me hesitate to date.”
You nodded. “Sure, that’s a lot of pressure on anything more than a booty call.”
Bucky snorted. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
You chuckled. “Nah, that’s pretty outdated. Probably FWB for Friends with Benefits.”
“Ah. That something you’re familiar with?”
You shrugged. “Open to the possibility with the right guy, but I’ve never executed that maneuver yet, no.”
“Mm. Well, their loss.”
You scowled again. “I see what you did there.”
He smirked, lowering his lashes into a flirty look. “I’m supposed to compliment you, right?”
Badump-thump went your very dumb heart. Boy, nobody had warned you that Bucky fucking Barnes had actual game. At most, you’d heard he was quiet, but a great tipper. He could flirt like nobody’s business and you already loved that in combination with him being your knight in shining armor. “Am I to understand that the sergeant always obeys an order?”
His smirk widened, turning evil the slightest bit. “Depends on who gives the order, girlie.”
You tried not to shiver at that wonderfully teasing tone. “Touché.”
You ordered another round when the bartender checked on you, and Bucky thanked you, passing the bartender another twenty dollar bill to your amusement. He must have been aware of how terrible the national tipping average had gotten for everyone, bless him. It was a giant green flag to you, especially since it wasn’t like the guy was rich. “So you’re an editor, huh? You write too?”
“Yep. But you already knew that, huh?”
Bucky grinned. “Yeah, the sense of humor gave you away. I could’ve broken that little punk’s arm and you wouldn’t have even flinched. I like writers. They’re always weirdos. Good way to be.”
You chuckled. “Wow, can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a sneak diss.”
“Nah, being normal’s overrated. Hell, some of us argue it doesn’t even exist at all.”
“Now that I agree with. I think everyone’s a tiny bit crazy in their own way. Just depends on how much and in what ways. We’re all better off just trying to be as understanding as possible.”
He offered a wry smirk. “They can start by not getting drunk and harassing pretty girls trying to watch the Superbowl.”
“Amen.” You winked at the bartender when he passed you the next round. “See? He thinks I’m pretty.”
Both men laughed. Your attention switched back to the game after a great play and the rest of the evening flowed as effortlessly as silk next to the sergeant. You chit-chatted in between plays about your life in Tennessee where you’d grown up and his latest missions backing up Sam Wilson. The time practically flew by before the game’s exciting end and by then, you couldn’t help being a smitten kitten. You’d always heard things about him from people in the area like at the supermarket or the pharmacy, but you’d taken a huge shine to the man in a single night. Maybe it had been the universe’s apology for both the drunken schmuck and your louse of an ex-boyfriend. Either way, you thanked your lucky stars for this brief time in the oasis and knew you’d treasure it.
After the game, everyone had been celebrating the Giants’ win and partying hard, so it was nearly closing time by the time you were all done singing drinking songs or dancing like idiots to the club music the bartender cranked up. It was a rowdy, but fantastic and fun experience. You didn’t over-indulgence in booze for once, though, as you wanted to cherish your time with your new bar mate.
You had slipped away to powder your nose in the family-style bathroom and had just stepped out when you bumped into Bucky in the hallway, having left the men’s room too. Your bodies collided in the dimly lit space and you giggled and let out an “oof” as his big, warm hands landed on your hips to keep you from tipping over. “Sorry.”
“All good,” he murmured, and it vibrated pleasantly along your chest and arms, making you shiver just a little bit before you could help it. For a second, you just saw that smooth, perfect jaw line in the dappled light of the hallway and somehow, all good sense fled the building. You got up on your tiptoes and kissed him there in the partially darkened hallway, letting his steady, bulky frame take your weight for a second.
He sighed and licked your lips apart, growling softly as he heard you moan into the kiss. He tilted you to lean back against the wall and then let his weight press you into it completely, his hands squeezing your hips enough to make you moan again. Before you could even blink, he’d shoved the ladies’ room bathroom door open again and dragged you into the single stall room with him, flicking the lock along the way.
And after that, all bets were off.
You kissed him ferociously as he pressed you back against the door, one thick thigh slotting between your legs to grind against you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and sifted your fingers into the thick, dark, shorn hair near his nape as he kissed you senseless. You’d gone out in a cute turquoise sundress and flats, so he hiked the soft material up to bunch at your thighs. He found your panties as his soft lips slid down your throat and his teeth nipped your pulse, making you shudder in his arms. He slid them off of you and then picked you up with a lustful groan of effort.
“Tell me,” he growled against your lips, authority woven in with a needy tone somehow. “Tell me you want me, baby doll.”
“I want you,” you mewled into the next kiss. “I want you so bad, sir.”
“Good girl,” he whispered in return as he undid his jeans enough to free his delectable cock. “Want you just as bad, baby.”
He arched his hips just right and slipped his long, thick cock inside you.
You melted.
God, it felt better than anything to be pinned up against that door with his burly frame crushing you there, his cock searing hot as it speared your sopping wet cunt. He’d slid in without a bit of resistance from how hot you’d gotten just from kissing him. You’d never had a man his size before. It left you utterly sensitive and keyed up to take a cock his size all at once. Your fingers and toes briefly tingled. It was…heavenly. Just perfect.
He rocked you down onto his cock hard, twisting his hips with the roughness of the movement to make you whimper and clutch his shoulders desperately. You couldn’t help rolling your hips into every stroke, gasping and crying out as his cock split you in half like a log. He fucked into your tight heat like he had no intention of stopping, like he’d stay nestled in all your darkest corners for the rest of your life. He somehow knew exactly how to angle his cock to find every hidden spot inside you and drive you wild.
“Gonna…gonna c-come…” you slurred around his lips, your body burning from within with utter need. You had no idea if you wanted him to stop or fuck you even harder. “If you…keep…like that…”
“Mm, good girl,” he breathed in your left ear, his voice like velvet. “Don’t fight it, baby. I want you to come on my cock. You’re such a good girl, takin’ me so deep. How much deeper can you take me, sweetheart? Can you take Bucky deep? All the way? Hmm?”
“Yes, yes, please,” you begged, unable to help whimpering as his pelvis dug into just the right spot. “Please fuck me deep, sergeant, don’t stop!”
“Good girl,” he cooed, squeezing your ass with his Vibranium hand. “Take me deep. Come on this cock, baby. That’s it. Good girl, that’s right, baby, fuckin’ cream all over this cock, wanna feel it when you go, can’t wait to come inside this creamy little pussy tonight, mm, feels so fuckin’ good, don’t stop rolling your hips for me, honey, unghfuckingGodrighthere—”
He buried his face in your throat with a guttural growl and pounded your cunt until you yelped out his name in frantic triumph as you came messily on his cock mid-thrust. “God! Yes! Bucky, don’t stop, please, right there, baby, yes!”
He came with a hoarse roar of your name, his cock throbbing wildly as he spilled inside you at last. Your eyes rolled back in your head. You kissed him to taste the shuddering moan that left him as he marked you as his over and over, scalding jets of come splashing against your inner walls. God, you’d never felt anything so goddamn sinfully sublime. It was wrong, wrong, wrong, but absolutely fantastic.
For nearly a minute, neither one of you spoke, just panting in dazed disbelief of how incredible that had just been.
Then, you heard a muffled male voice through the door: “Alright, pay up! I told you so!”
The two of you froze.
Bucky’s eyes snapped to yours. “Did the bartender just…”
You shut your own and cringed as you heard other bar patrons groaning as they paid the bartender. “Yep. Wow. I guess we were that obvious, weren’t we?”
Bucky hung his head, sighing against your breastbone. “Damn it. We’re never going to hear the end of this. Can’t ever leave this bathroom.”
You laughed hoarsely and ruffled his hair affectionately. “I guess we’ll be hermit crabs together after all.”
The Avenger then lifted you and carried you over to a dry spot at the counter. He kissed you softly. “You gonna let me see you again?”
You pretended to think about it. “Gee, do I want to have the best sex of my life with a really handsome, charismatic famous guy with a giant cock? Do I?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Writers. What did I fucking say?”
You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Sign me the fuck up for FWB, sir. That was an outstanding audition for the part. I am eagerly awaiting the sequel.”
Bucky waggled his eyebrows before dropping a last light kiss to your lips. “Play your cards right and you’ll get to enjoy the sequel sooner rather than later.”
And just like that, you and Sergeant Barnes became Friends with Benefits.
The visits started out sporadic—just spare hours when you felt the itch for great sex or after he’d come back from a stressful mission needing to expend extra energy—but after a few months, you found a rhythm. It was the easiest company you’d ever experienced, low pressure and nothing but overly indulgent fun. After all, without the expectation of a relationship, it left both of you with no need to hold back. He could openly ask for fantasies or to try new things with you and you did the same. It was an arrangement free of judgment or worry, strictly for enjoying the company of someone that genuinely liked you and vice versa. You enjoyed the silly pillow talk after or chats over Chinese food before as much as the feral monkey sex. Over time, it became comfortable and something that you looked forward to on a monthly basis.
And then something odd happened.
Around the seventh month, you noticed a bit of a pattern during your hookups. You and Bucky both loved to switch things up, but over time, you’d found each other sweet spots. You loved it if he’d pin you down in missionary with either rough, possessive sex or slow, deep, languid strokes, and he was extremely fond of taking you from behind, especially standing or up against the wall.
You noticed that if you started to move him into missionary sex…he resisted.
It wasn’t as if you consciously noticed or counted how many times you’d had sex in any given position, but you noticed that he didn’t let you stay in missionary position any longer. You couldn’t figure out if it had been a conscious thing or not, so it left you wondering if you should say something or if it would upset your delicately balanced arrangement.
Because what if it meant Bucky was losing interest in you?
It became a cold weight of anxiety in your belly as soon as your pathetic brain summoned the thought. You tried not to notice it, but after about the fourth time he moved you out of that position, it became clear that it was now a pattern.
Now what?
You could keep letting the boat sail. It wouldn’t kill you. But…it did make you over-analyze every text, every smile, every soft word, from him to detect if he was just going through the motions now. You didn’t want that for him.
But you also didn’t want to lose him.
Was it better to have just a crumb of his time and attention to none?
Or should you cut him loose if he only stayed out of obligation?
Did you have the right to say a word as nothing more than an FWB?
Too many questions and not enough answers. It made you sick to your stomach thinking of how weak you’d sound asking him for a relationship status update. Maybe you’d just been the one to start to fall first, so you’d gotten too sensitive, too arrogant.
“You’re tense.”
Your eyes opened as you heard the soft, low buzz of Bucky’s voice in your ear. You were curled up on his chest like a kitty cat, listening to his heartbeat thrumming in that broad chest and absently playing with his dog tags. “Hmm?”
“You’re tense, baby,” he echoed, scooting until he lay on his side and level with you. His cool metal fingers smoothed your messy hair off of your forehead so he could look down into your eyes. That always killed you too; he had been big on eye contact, but now it didn’t happen as often. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing—”
He shook his head. “No. You’re not sleeping, baby. I’ve noticed you’re up later and later at night, so something’s wrong. What is it?”
Guilt gnawed at your gut. “It’s…just something personal. Sorry. I’m not trying to bring down the mood in the room—”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said softly but sternly. “And you know it. You’re not telling me something and it’s eating you up. I don’t want that, so just tell me.”
“Buck—”
“Hey,” he said softer still. “It’s me, okay? Just Bucky. Tell me what’s wrong.”
The words tumbled out in a hoarse, panicked rush. “Are you losing interest in me?”
Bucky froze.
“Am I…what?”
You couldn’t help a frustrated breath escaping, tears trying to prick your eyes. “You…keep moving me out of missionary position like it’s…like it’s bothering you.”
He stared at you, paling. “I…you noticed.”
“How could I not?” you asked, your throat tight. “So if you want to go, just…just get it over with now so I’ll stop worrying about it.”
“I…you thought I…” Bucky shut his eyes and exhaled through his nose. “Goddamn it. I’m an asshole.”
“I knew it,” you whispered, the tears flooding your cheeks as you tried to sit up and pull away from him.
You didn’t get far.
Bucky caught your arm and tossed you easily to the mattress underneath him.
The simple show of strength made a tangle of lustful feelings stir inside your core.
“Let go!” You tried to squirm out from under him so you could escape.
“I haven’t lost interest in you,” Bucky murmured, pinning your wrists when you tried to push him off of you. “I…fucked up and…caught feelings…”
You stilled beneath him, blinking up at in stunned disbelief. “You…what?”
Bucky sighed even deeper. “The last time I fucked you in missionary position, I almost slipped up and said…”
“Said what?”
His head bowed. His hands squeezed your wrists. He wouldn’t budge, so you pressed him. “Goddamn it, Bucky, said what?”
“I love you,” he ground out, his face sweltering pink with a blush. “I…almost said that I loved you.”
You lay there, speechless.
“You stupid fucking prick.”
Bucky’s eyes snapped open then, confusion and offense in his expression. “What?”
“You had me thinking you wanted to leave!” you seethed. “Better be glad you have my hands occupied or I’d punch you. Oh my God, Bucky. All that goddamn therapy and you’re still so thick-headed!”
He glared. “Look, sue me. I’ve never been in love before and I wasn’t supposed to fall for you in the first damn place. I fucked up. Of course I didn’t want to say anything. I thought you’d bail.”
“Why would I bail?” you almost screeched into his face. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you daffy bastard!”
Bucky blinked at that. “I…you’re…mad I didn’t tell you? Not that I love you?”
“Bucky, people fall in love all the goddamn time in FWB situations,” you said with a groan, flopping back against the pillow in exasperation. “That’s why most of them are temporary. I was about to lose my mind worrying you wanted to leave, but I was holding you back. You’re a complete dumbass. Of course I love you right back, you fucking lunatic.”
His jaw dropped. “What?”
“I love you!” you snapped. “I. Love. You. Idiot.”
He stared at you as if you were the Eighth Wonder of the World. “I can’t believe you’re talking shit while you’re admitting you’re in love with me.”
“Too bad, so sad, soldier boy.” You lunged for his lips. “Fucking idiot.”
He chuckled. “Mean as a snake. Just the way I like my women.”
“Who says I agreed to be your woman?” you sniffed. “You have just proven that you are a spectacularly stupid individual.”
“Yeah, but that also means I get to make it up to ya,” Bucky lilted as he slid his thigh forward to part yours to let him settle his weight over you. “Could be very lucrative for you.”
“I’m listening,” you said with a coy smirk. “How did you intend to repent for your many sins, sergeant?”
He smirked. “Whatever my princess asks of her knight will be granted.”
“Ooh,” you purred. “That could be very costly, my knight. Are you sure?”
Bucky nodded. “Name it.”
You lifted up enough to angle your mouth to his ear, whispering, “Break out the handcuffs, sarge. Time to be a willing captive for your princess.”