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Bucky was pissed. Especially pissed right now. He was supposed to be starting his new job tomorrow, and the damn motel he had booked a room in over two weeks ago was now apparently full. They had double booked his room. He had travelled over an hour for this shitty motel.
The motel itself was small, one of those tiny unknown places. It only had a handful of buildings. Bucky was currently stood in the horribly yellow painted reception. And outside there were no more than twenty rooms, all having doors that opened to the carpark. Which was currently full, his motorbike was parked on the path just outside the door.
The man behind the reception desk was less than helpful. It seemed the issue was that Bucky booked his room, but someone else had also booked the room. He was furious. He was tired, and wanted a night in bed before his new job. Even if that bed was as cheap as the rest of the hotel.
He tapped his fingers on the counter as the receptionist typed away on his computer. The man looked stressed. Red in the face, sweat dripping down his forehead. Though Bucky blamed half of that on the blasted heat. Despite being 9pm, the sun had cooked the area during the day and even now as it grew darker the air was humid and uncomfortable.
You walked into the reception, lugging a suitcase behind you. You were furious, your house was currently being fumigated and this was the only motel for miles that had rooms. You had booked the room super last minute, specifically at 7pm yesterday but the motel promised they had space for you. You had no other choice.
You walked straight to the counter, ignoring the man already standing there.
"Hi, I'm here for room 17." You say to the receptionist. The man behind the reception desk looked up from his computer and gave a strained smile.
"Welcome, how can I-" He paused, staring at the screen. The colour draining from his face. His eyes widened, and he looked at you. "Room 17?"
"That's what I said." You say, you tried to not sound like a bitch. But the day you had just had, was long. You were tired. The man's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, sweat beading on his brow. He licked his lips and forced another fake smile, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
"I'm so sorry Ma'am, but I'm afraid we have a little... Problem."
You let out a long sigh. "What kind of problem?" It was then the man next to you scoffed. You looked up at him, he was a lot taller than you. Longish dark hair, and a short but thick beard to match. He was gorgeous honestly. But you turned your attention back to the back behind the desk tapping away at the computer.
The man next to you shifted in your peripheral vision, his face set in a deep frown. He was clearly annoyed. The man behind the counter fidgeted nervously. He swallowed and wiped his sweaty brow.
"Uhm... Well, the thing is, we... We seem to have accidentally... Double booked that room."
"And how, exactly are you going to fix that?" You ask, your patience wearing thin. "I'm in need of that room."
Bucky straighten beside you, rolling his broad shoulders before leaning against the counter with a sigh.
"Lady, I hate to break it to ya," He says, deep voice tinged with irritation, but not aimed at you. "But I booked that room two weeks ago. Ain't my fault this joint can't keep their books straight."
The receptionist squeaked. "Right, right! My apologies, folks! Let me, let me just..." He scrambled at his keyboard before brightening. "Oh! We do have one solution!" He hesitated, glancing between you both. "We... might have a room left. With two beds."
Bucky scoffed. "You kiddin’ me?" But then he glanced at you, really looked, and caught the exhaustion in your posture. His annoyed expression softened slightly. "...You look dead on your feet." A gruff shrug. "If you don’t mind sharin’ with a stranger, I ain’t gonna bite." Pause. "...Much."
"You could be a serial killer for all I know." You say through gritted teeth.
He snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, the worn leather jacket creaking slightly with the movement.
"Sweetheart, if I was gonna kill anyone tonight, it’d be this guy," He jerked a thumb toward the sweating receptionist, "For puttin’ us in this mess. But since I'm looking forward to my new job startin’ tomorrow, and you look like you’d stab me with your car keys if I tried anything funny... Whaddya say? Temporary roomies?"
You let out a long huff. What was your other options? Sleep in your car? With the forest that surrounded the motel there was no way. And your office was a 40 minute drive away.
"Fine. Give us the damn key." You say to the receptionist. "Though I expect at least a partial refund, for us both."
"O- of course! No problem, I’ll... I'll take care of the refund personally!" He hurried around the counter, and grabbed us the key. Bucky grabbed the key and motioned for you to follow him.
You cursed at the situation, you didn't even know the man's name. You walked a few steps behind him towards the room. Trying to ignore the disgustingly sticky heat that attacked your body.
Bucky swiped the key card and pushed the door open, revealing a rather plain room. One queen-sized, taking up most of the space. There was a small table and chair in one corner, and a door in the other for the bathroom.
"Not exactly the Hilton, is it?" He jokes, dropping his bag at the foot of the bed.
"He said two beds." You say, the annoyance evident in your tone.
He snorted, raising an eyebrow at your tone. "Relax, doll, it's plenty big enough. Ain't like we'll be touchin' all night, just sleeping."
"Refrain from calling me doll. I have a name, and it's not the 30s anymore." You mutter, rolling your eyes. You wheel your suitcase to the side of the bed closest to the door.
"Feisty one, ain't ya." He muses, eyes glinting with amusement, gaze roaming over you. "Alright, if 'doll' ain't your taste, how 'bout Darlin'? Sweetheart? Baby Girl? Angel?"
You ignore him. There was an air-conditioning unit above the bed, you reached up to press the switch but nothing happened.
"Figures."
"Yeah, this place ain't exactly top-tier, darlin'." He comments, crossing his arms against his broad chest. "Looks like we're stuck with it."
"You're awfully chipper to be staying in a motel with a total stranger."
He shrugged, still lounging back on the bed like it was his own. A lazy smirk curled the corner of his lips.
"Honey, I've been in much worse situations than this. Rough day, darlin'?"
"Finding out my house needs fumigating, oh yes, I've had a brilliant day." You answer, your words dripping with sarcasm.
"Yeah, that'd ruin anybody's damn week." A pause, then he gestured toward the bathroom with a jerk of his chin. "You wanna shower first? Might make ya feel less..." He waved a hand vaguely toward your entire exhausted posture. "...Like you wanna murder the whole state." The smirk returned, playful but not mocking."Unless you'd rather I go first, but fair warnin', I hog all the hot water."
"How can you shower in hot water? It's a bloody heatwave out there." You say, grimacing.
He leaned back again, stretching his arms up over his head, the movement causing his shirt to ride up, revealing a glimpse of his stomach beneath. He chuckled, the sound deep and slightly breathless from the stretch.
"What can I say, doll? I like things hot."
"Noted." You mutter, unsure to what you had actually meant by saying that. You grabbed your toiletries and sleepwear and walked into the bathroom. You locked the door, checking it twice before switching the shower on to it's coldest setting.
Showering had made you feel a little better, the cold felt amazing on your skin. The heat had never sat right with you. But being under the cold splash of water almost had you feeling like a normal human being once again.
Once done, you stepped out from the small shower and used the small, somewhat useless hair dryer that was attached to the wall to dry your hair. You then dressed in your sleepwear. A pair of shorts and a tank top. It was far too hot to wear anything else, and you hadn't exactly packed your entire wardrobe.
When you left the shower room he was still on the bed, flipping through a book.
"Showers all yours." You say, you then realise you hadn't exchanged names, so you tell him yours. It only seemed normal to exchange names at this point.
His eyes flicked up from the book, some crime novel, as you stepped out. A slow smirk curled his lips at your attire, though he had the decency not to comment.
"Name's Barnes. James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky." He says, adding a wink at the end. "Since we're sharing and all."
Then he disappeared into the bathroom. You climbed onto the bed and switched off the light. You huffed from the heat of the room, opting to sleep over the top of the bed covers.
It didn't take Bucky long to emerge from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of low-slung grey pyjama trousers and no shirt. His broad chest was dotted with scars, and a trail of dark hair disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. You were staring, didn't even try to make it look like you weren't.
He caught you staring, of course. He ran a towel through his damp hair.
"Eyes up here, sweetheart," He teases, though there was no real bite to it. He tossed the towel over the chair and flopped onto his own bed with a satisfied groan, stretching out like a damn cat."Christ, it's hotter than hell in here...You good?"
"FIne." You mutter in response. Obviously the shower hadn't completely calmed you. You were far too angry about your house, about the heat. Beyond mad that the motel messed up the booking with your room. And now you were sharing a room with a total stranger. A really hot stranger who was topless and lying next to you. His book in his hands once more.
A few hours later it was finally dark outside. Not that you could tell, since there was a neon sign right outside of the room. You had guessed it was past midnight by now, though it wasn't any less hot than a few hours ago. If you had your own room, like originally planned you could of stripped down.
"...Can't sleep either, huh?"
"Obviously not." You mutter. "It's too damn hot, and I'm still so angry."
Bucky lets out a weary sigh and propped himself up on his pillow, rolling onto his side to face you. "Yeah, I feel you there." He ran a hand through his hair, messy from the tossing on the pillow, he moved slightly, the bed made an ominous creek in protest. "This heat is murder. And that neon sign ain't helping either..."
"If only we had baseball bats, could smash them." You said, your attempt at making a joke. "Instant darkness."
Bucky let out a quiet snort. "Tempting," He agrees, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Bet you got a hell of an arm, sweetheart. You look like you could throw a mean swing."
"Thank you, I think?" You respond. You let out another huff, still annoyed at the events of the night.
"Ain't no need to stay so uptight, darlin'. The night's long. We're stuck together. Might as well try an' relax."
"Easier said than done." You mutter as you shift slightly on the bed, it squeaks as you do, but you stay lying on your back. "My anger consumes me when I feel it."
"I can see that. You're wound tighter than a top, doll. You're gonna pop a vessel if you ain't careful."
"It's warranted." You answer.
"Sure, doll. Anger's warranted, up to a point. But you're so damn on edge, you ain't likely to sleep anytime soon." A pause, then he added, "And you know what lack of sleep does to a person?"
"I should of napped at my office." You mutter, more to yourself than to him. There would be no talking pretty boy at your office...It'd be easier to sleep. Plus, you had a great aircon system.
"Shoulda, woulda, coulda, doll. But you didn't, and now here you are, in a dingy motel with a stranger, pissed as hell and unable to sleep."
"You know..." You say carefully, you couldn't believe you were going to actually say the words. But you had been thinking them, on and off for the past few hours. "I know a way we could pass the time.. might even exhaust one another."
"Oh yeah?" He asks, his eyebrows shooting up. His smirk deepened, voice dropping to a low drawl. "And what kinda exhausting activity you got in mind, darlin'?"
"Well I mean, you're a very attractive man, and well you've proved not to be a serial killer thus far..." You mumble, rambling slightly.
His smirk turned downright wolfish, eyes darkening with unmistakable interest. "Well now," He purrs, voice rough and dripping with promise, "Ain't that the nicest thing you've said to me all night." His fingers ghosted over your wrist, testing the waters. "Tell me... You always this forward with strangers, or am I just special?"
"I actually haven't...done said activities for about five years." You admit, opting to be truthful with him.
"Five years?" His thumb traced idle circles over your wrist, not pushing, just grounding. "Damn, darlin'. That's a hell of a drought." A pause, then, quieter. "You sure this is how you wanna break it? With some scruffy bastard in a shitty motel?"
"Don't make me regret suggesting it!" You snap. "I have a very busy work life, that's all."
Bucky moved, pinning you on the bed as he climbs onto you in a swift movement. His weight settled over you just enough to tease, not crush.
"Busy work life, huh?" His lips brushed your ear, breath hot. "Guess I better make sure you remember this then, darlin’."
You steady your breath, and hesitantly place your hands on his bare muscular arms. A shiver ran down your spine. Bucky's eyes darkened, his gaze dropped to your parted lips. He leaned closer, his chest almost touching yours as he let his hips press just a little more into you, feeling the heat pooling between your bodies.
"Come on, darlin'." His voice was a gruff, ragged purr. "...Use that sweet mouth of yours and tell me what you want me to do to you."
He moved a hand down between you and traced his calloused fingers across your thigh. Instinctively you opened them, giving him more space.
"Fuck." The word jolts out from your lips without warning. "Please, can you...?"
Your self control was slipping. He smirked against your skin, trailing kisses up your jawline, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing.
"Can I...?" He echos, dragging the moment out, savoring the way your breath hitched beneath him. "You gotta say it, sweetheart. I ain't a mind reader." His fingers curled against the hem of your shorts, waiting, just waiting, for you to spell it out.
"Jesus christ." You huff. "Fuck me!"
"There you go, darlin'." He purrs, his voice a rough, sultry whisper. "Now was that so hard?" His teeth grazed against your skin, a teasing bite against your neck. His hand continued its slow journey higher, his touch a delicious, deliberate tease...
You moved your hands down from his arms, touching over his shoulders and his chest. You move your fingers to his nipples and start teasing him between your fingers. Bucky lets out a sharp inhale, his muscled chest tensed under your touch.
"Fuck... You're trouble." He growls, but there was no real heat behind it. "Keep doin' that," He murmurs against your skin, "and this ain't gonna be slow, darlin'."
"I'm okay with that." You say, you weren't exactly looking for a long, romantic love making session. You wanted to be fucked, by this god of a man.
He chuckles, the sound turning into a quiet groan as your fingers teased along his chest. His muscles flexed under your touch, the heat between you growing with every beat of your pounding heart. He gripped your thigh a little tighter, his hips pressing harder to yours, letting you feel the effect you were having on him. He nipped gently at your neck then, his voice ragged and thick with desire when he spoke again.
"You got no idea what you're doin' to me, doll."
You lifted your hips against him, feeling his hard cock against your hips. He felt large, thick, and you couldn't wait to feel it stretch your insides out. "I think I have some idea."
His breath caught at the movement, hips stuttering forward instinctively, chasing the friction. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pinned your wrist beside your head, lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and pent-up hunger.
"Damn right you do," He rasps against your mouth. "Now quit teasin'."
He kisses you roughly, his lips moving against yours with a raw, primal intensity. His hands roved over your bare thighs, rough and strong, claiming you in a way that was possessive in its intensity. He was hungry, desperate even, and he kissed you like a man starved. As if you were the air he needed to breathe. His fingers curled around your waist, pulling you flush against him, pressing you into the mattress as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate dance...
"Fuck." You mutter as you pull away. "Do you have protection?"
He froze mid-kiss, pulling back just enough to blink down at you, expression shifting from lust-drunk to sheepish in half a second.
"...Shit." He exhales sharply, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Yeah, uh, lemme check my bag." He rolls off you with a groan, padding over to his duffel near the foot of the bed. He rummages through it, muttering curses under his breath, before finally fishing out a single, slightly crumpled packet. "Got one." He flashed you a smirk, holding it up between two fingers. "Lucky break, huh?"
Then his grin turned wicked as he crawled back toward you, hovering over your body again.
"...Now where were we?"
"I think." You start, smirking widely. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you were about to fuck me."
"Damn right I was." He growls. "And don't you fucking forget it."
You whimpered at his words. Moving your fingers to his trousers, you start pushing them down. He hadn't worn boxers underneath. The noise you made set his blood on fire, and he groaned against your lips as your fingers fumbled at his waistband. His breathing turned ragged, his hips instinctively arching into your touch, desperate.
"Damn, doll. Hurry the hell up." He bit out, nipping at your bottom lip.
"Tsk, tsk. Impatient." You mumble, you then move away from him and lift your tank top off your body, and then next came your shorts. Leaving you completely bare to him. You expected to feel a sense of insecurity, but the way Bucky looked at you, it made you feel like someone worshipped.
His breath stuttered, eyes raking over you, every inch, like a man starved. The sight of you, bare and wanting beneath him, sent a jolt of heat straight to his already aching cock.
"Christ," He rasps, dragging a hand down his face before reaching for the packet again, fumbling slightly as he tore it open. "You’re gonna kill me."
He rolled it on with quick, impatient movements before hovering over you again, kissing you bruisingly as he nudged your thighs wider. "No more waitin’." A growled warning, and then he was pressing in, slow and relentless, until he was buried to the hilt.
"Holy-" You cried out, your words turning into a string of moans.
"You- you okay, darlin'?" He grunts, hands gripping your hips, not moving just yet. Not until you gave him the go-ahead.
"Yeah, just wow... You're huge." You answered, you were stretched completely, his cock was hard and pressing against every nerve inside of you.
"That right, doll?" He purrs, voice low and ragged. "You feel that, huh? How perfect you fit around me?" His lips grazed your neck, teeth grazing your skin.
"Just...Oh! Give me a minute!"
"You need to adjust, doll?" He murmurs, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the skin of your hip, a distracted touch, a desperate attempt to keep himself in check. "You just tell me when you're ready..."
You moved your legs, getting them comfortable around him, before shifting your hips slightly. It didn't hurt, having him deep in you, but it was something you needed to adjust to.
He groans, low and rough, as your movements dragged him impossibly deeper. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, his forehead dropping against yours as he fought for control.
"Christ," He rasps, hips stuttering against yours, his entire body trembling with restraint. "You're gonna be the damn death of me."
But when you shifted again, this time with purpose, he took it as permission, surging forward with a sharp thrust that punched another breathy cry from your lips.
"That's it," He growls, teeth flashing in the dim light as his rhythm snapped into something brutal and deliciously relentless. "Take it."
"M'taking it!" You moan loudly. "Give me more!"
His eyes darkened, a feral heat replacing his usual steely grey. He obliged, gripping your legs and pushing your knees up until you were damn near bent in half, your legs resting against his chest.
"Like that?" He grunts, driving into you with a punishing pace that left him breathless and aching for more. "Doll, you have no goddamn idea what you're doing to me."
"Keep going!" You cried as you felt your body grow closer and closer to your edge. The pleasure was all over you body, heating up every nerve.
"Greedy," He rasps, his thrusts turning sharp and shallow, just how you needed, as he dropped his mouth to your throat, biting down right over your pulse. "Come for me."
The noises that left your lips were almost feral as you felt yourself come, your legs tightened around his hips and shook against him. You gripped his arms tightly, afraid he was going to disappear.
He groans, deep and wrecked, as your walls clenched around him, dragging him right back to the edge with you. His hips stuttered, thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release again, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks.
"Fuck!" His voice broek, his forehead dropped down onto yours as he spilled his seed into the condom. He shuddered against you, hips grinding against yours to ride out every last pulse of pleasure. Breathless, spent, he collapsed half on top of you, still trembling slightly, before managing a hoarse chuckle.
"We should be able to sleep now, huh?"
You let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah, we should get cleaned up, sleep."
He hummed in agreement, reluctantly shifting away from you. There was a moment of hesitation, a brief reluctance to sever the connection, before he rolled off you and out of the bed with a long sigh.
"I'll be right back." His hand lingered on your hip for a split second before he disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the motel room as he cleaned himself up, though it was still too dark to see a damn thing. He came back into the room with a damn flanel, he gave you a gentle clean up, before laying on the bed, close to your body.
"...Still mad about the double-booking?"
"A little." You answer truthfully. But you weren't mad about the outcome.
You both finally fall asleep.
The next morning you both had to wake up early, Bucky had his new job and you had to get to your own job. You dressed in one of your usual outfits. A matching trouser suit, completely black.
"Damn," He mutters, "You sure clean up nice."
"Thanks." You say with a small smile. "Look, I've got to go. But this was... nice."
"Nice?" He scoffs playfully. "Hell, doll, I'll take it." Then his expression softened, just a fraction. "You need a ride anywhere? Got my bike outside."
"No thank you. I've got my car." You answer. "See you Bucky."
And then you left. You got into your car and drove away, and only when you were driving did you realise you and Bucky had never exchanged numbers.
Bucky lingered in the doorway of the motel room, arms crossed over his bare chest, watching your car disappear down the road. His smirk slowly faded into something more thoughtful, and just a little frustrated.
"...Damn." He huffed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Back inside, he shoved his belongings into his duffel with more force than necessary before grabbing his keys off the nightstand. The crumpled wrapper from last night still sat there, a glaring reminder.
With a muttered curse, he shouldered his bag and strode out, leaving the door swinging behind him.
He had a new job to get to. And maybe, just maybe, a woman to track down.
You sat at your desk in your office at work, you were on the top floor in a large office. Your new assistant was starting today, you had yet to meet them but you knew they'd be here soon.
A soft knock echoed through the door, followed by the distinct sound of knuckles rapping against the wood. I walk over and open the door.
In the small waiting area outside your office, Bucky stood, looking a little out of place amid the pristine walls and elegant furniture. He looked so different from seeing him last night and this morning. Now he wore a suit, and he looked good. No longer the gruff man you had previously met, he looked clean cut.
"Bucky?" You questioned, completely shocked to see him right now. You knew he couldn't of followed you, the keycodes needed to get to this floor were complex. No one could just wander in. "What are you doing here?"
"Funny thing," He drawls. "Turns out my new job? Right here. Small world, huh?" His grin was pure mischief, eyes alight with the thrill of the chase.
"You're my new assistant?" You question, almost like you couldn't believe it.
"Yup." He popped the 'p', leaning back against the door. "Assistant. Secretary. Coffee runner. Errand boy. Whatever you need, darlin'. That's me."
"What a small world, indeed." You say, agreeing with his words from a moment ago.
"Real small," He agres, voice low. "Too small for coincidences." A pause, deliberate, before adding, "Almost like fate." He straightened again, adjusting his tie, but his eyes never left yours, dark with promise. "So," He purrs, "Where do we start, boss?"
"Come into my office, lock the door behind you." You say with a playful smirk, the feeling between your legs growing.
"Damn," He murmurs, prowling toward you. "Didn't realise that was in the job description. You gonna dock my pay if I kiss you, boss?"
"Definitely not." You hop up onto your desk, keeping your eyes on him. Dark with lust. "Come and kiss me, no one will bother us, perks of me being the boss."
His breath caught in his throat, your words and tone sparking a fire in his blood. With a low, possessive growl, he grabbed your hips and yanked you forward, hard, making you gasp as he slotted himself between your thighs.
"Thank god." His voice was low and rough, thick with desire as he pulled you flush against him, calloused fingers digging into your skin in a way that should've been painful. But you both knew he could do so much worse.
"Been dying to kiss you again, darlin'."