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In the Stacks

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You’re unaware of his longing gaze, but it’s there. Boring into the back of your skull as if he’s trying to penetrate each waking thought until all you can think about is him.

Your fingers trace over the various titles, skimming through pages as your nose scrunches in concentration. He thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world; absolutely precious as you let out a breath when something surprises you in the novel.

He often gets distracted when you’re around, his mind often wandering to what he thinks your favourite food is; he believes it’s a good pasta dish, because who can say no to that?

It’s thoughts like those that makes him stumble over his own feet, nearly walking directly into a wall of books as an embarrassing blush cakes his face until he’s hiding his hands in his sleeves and excusing himself to the bathroom.

He takes a deeps breath, leaning against the door relishing in the coolness. His eyes are closed, trying to steady his breathing as he lets out a groan; this is not the time to be sporting a boner.

He’s leaning over the sink, staring at his reflection as he scolds himself. He wants to be disgusted with himself, needs to be punished. But then he thinks about your sweet laugh of the way you use sign language to say thank you and see you later when he’s busy.

It makes his heart flutter and he groans when he realizes he’s in deep; deeper than he’s ever been before. His shaky hands start the sink, sound of rushing water filling the silence as he splashes the too cold water over his face and neck.

It seems to do the trick.

He spends a few more minutes in the bathroom, pacing around as he thinks of Steve or dead puppies to quell the twisting he feels down there. It’s inappropriate for fuck’s sake! He reminds himself before taking one last scolding look at himself.


“Hey Buck!” Your voice is cheerful, almost a chirp as he whips his head around. Ouch. The cramp settles quick, his wince barely there are he locks eyes with yours.

He feels like he’s in a trance, mesmerized as he cracks a smile. “Hey [Y/N].” Your name falls from his lips so gracefully that you can’t help but feel butterflies break free in your chest and all the way down to your belly.

“Do you think you can help me find a book?” You ask sweetly and you already know that he’ll be saying yes. Bucky smiles, dropping literally everything he was doing before emerging from behind the counter.

“For you? Of course.” He chuckles, the sound making your heart stutter against your ribs as if to say bring me closer to him because he makes me feel this way; and I need him.

You follow his steps almost exactly, eyes dragging down his back and wondering what wall of muscle lies underneath the large sweaters he wore everyday. You sigh, getting lost in your thoughts only to knock into him.

“Whoa there.” Bucky chuckles and you give him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I got lost in my own head.” You admit and well, it wasn’t a lie. He cocks his head to the side, tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours.” He admits before his eyes go wide at the realization that he said that out loud and oh fuck your face drops.

He clears his throat, opening his mouth to say something but no words come out. He’s panicking now, the voice in his head screaming as a million alarms blare at him to say something, anything!

“I don’t think you’d want to be my friend if you knew.” Your words are a hushed whisper, suitable decibel for the library as you shuffle closer to him. Bucky swears his heart is about to explode, that you are going to be the cause of his death.

Did you really just say that?

“Try me.” Bucky eggs as you take your bottom lip between your teeth as his eyes fixate on the action. “Stop that.” He warns, taking a step towards you before your back is pressed against the hard covers.

You hiss, the pain exhilarating.

“Why?” You smirk, teasing him as his fists clench at his side; low hum of his bionic appendage now reaching your cochleas as you try to suppress the low moan bubbling deep inside your throat.

“‘Cause it makes me wanna take that tight ass of your right here, have my hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet as I rail you against the bookshelves.”

You gasp, but not in fear or even shock, in pure pleasure as you feel his chest pressed against yours. Bucky’s heart is hammering so loudly in his ears, reverberating until the only thing he can hear is your soft moans and his rushing blood.

Speaking of rushing blood, you can feel his cock pressed snugly against your hip. Your eyes lock on his eyes, watching the hunger and lust swirl around the baby blue eyes you adored so much.

“Then do it.” It’s a whisper, a faint dare that you don’t believe he’ll follow through on because, why would he? But then you feel your body spinning, hitting the far end of the bookshelf as all the air leaves your lungs.

Bucky chuckles darkly, deeply, amused at your own reaction.

“Didn’t think I’d do it?” You can only shake your head and swallow thickly as his flesh hand goes to cup your jaw. “Well think again.” You don’t even get to process or register his words before his lips are pressed against yours.

He’s nothing of a kisser that you’d expected.

It’s rough, but gentle. Aggressive, but sweet. Harsh, but loving.

And you love it, melting into his touch as you wring your fingers in the thick fabric of his knit sweater; tugging him closer as you let him explore your mouth. His beard is no longer a beard, but stubble and it tickles.

You giggle into his mouth, the sound making Bucky’s cock twitch against your body and you feel nothing but pride and the unbearable need to feel him, all of him.

“Bucky if you don’t—oh.” You’re swallowing your words as he plants his thigh in between your legs and grinding your hips over it. “You were saying?” He taunts as you look at him with hooded eyes.

You want to retort, spit back a snarky remark but you can’t even make your thoughts coherent; let alone vocalise them. So you remain silent, relishing the way your clothed clit drags against the harsh fabric of his jeans.

The material of your skirt is being lifted by his cool fingers and you nearly shout about time before a choked gasp escapes your lips as Bucky moves your soaked through panties to the side.

“Fuckin’, all this for me?” He marvels, almost to himself as he slides his fingers through your folds. You shudder, holding yourself steady by his shoulders as you nod your head and let out a pathetic yes in response.

Bucky doesn’t believe this is even happening, that it’s too good to be true and that if anyone walks by them that he’s out of a job; that’s for damn sure. But at the same time he doesn’t care, because he’s got you in his hands; literally.

Your nimble fingers work fast at the buttons and zipper of his jeans, cursing when it gets stuck. It’s not a romantic moment. Bucky helps you, quickly unsheathing himself as you go wide eyed.

“That’s not gonna fit!” You whisper-yell at him, managing to tear your eyes away from his cock; throbbing and red, to look at the smug expression on his face. “Not with that attitude it won’t.” He bites back as he glides his tip through your folds.

You want to protest, maybe kick and scream a little hoping he just might take you home and punish you for your crude behaviour. All of those thoughts escape you as he pushes in.

You throw your head back against the books, knocking a few loose as a dull throb runs through your skull and if you have a concussion, then ah, who the hell cares! You’re about to fuck Bucky Barnes in the middle of the library.

It burns, you can’t lie. The stretch is like no other, but you love it. Your nails are digging into his sweater and you wish you could feel his hot skin against yours. Maybe another time you think.

A low groan rumbles through Bucky’s chest as he finally bottoms out, settling in you to look between where you’re connected back up to your eyes. “Told you.” He smirks cockily as you roll your eyes because yeah he did, and damn did it feel like fucking heaven.

“You gonna stand there or move?” You chid making him snap his hips against yours, jaw tensing at your words. You don’t get a chance to expel a moan before his flesh hand is clamping over your mouth.

Just like he promised.

Bucky’s thighs are burning, nearly on fire because of the position but he wouldn’t give it up for the world. He wonders if you’re comfortable, but the way your eyes are rolling back in your skull, breathing ragged; something tells him you don’t care.

“Stop that.” He warns and you quirk both your eyebrows off before clenching around him. His hips stutter before he growls again, only driving into you harder as your moans are muffled by his hand.

The concentration in Bucky’s eyes is hot and you begin to feel the white hot pleasure spread; penetrating your bones before one last thrust has you cascading over the edge and into orgasmic bliss.

It’s euphoria.

Bucky’s close behind, your sweet, warm walls enticing enough as you milk him with such tightness he thinks he might be stuck inside of you; not that he’s one to complain.

He always did have a cockwarming kink.

“Oh—fuck.” It’s the only coherent thing you can discern as Bucky spills inside fo you and you remind yourself to buy yourself a gift for getting an iud two years prior.

Bucky stills, his head falling in the crook of your neck as he removes his hand from your mouth. It feels cold, and you realize that he’s sparked something inside of you.

He pulls out quickly, the elastic of your panties snapping against your skin making you jump. You feel his cum seeping out of you and staining the pink panties you decided on today.

You just hoped they were as absorbent as they looked.

You’re both redressed in seconds, the air thick, heavy, and full of sex as Bucky pulls you close to him again. His lips hover against yours as you card your fingers through his hair, trying to mess it back into place.

“You like pasta?” He blurts, no longer embarrassed after what you both managed to pull off. That was one for the books for sure. You giggle, something Bucky decided was his new favourite sound.

“I love pasta, how did you know?” You quip before his lips are sealing yours in a sweet kiss. “Lucky guess.” He shrugs with a smirk before he’s lacing his fingers with yours.

Your hand fits perfectly, cozy in his large hand as he weaves you through the various stacks. You don’t care where you’re going, still entranced in your post-orgasm haze.

“Dinner?” He asks as you approach the desk again. You roll your eyes playfully, dropping your hand from his to lean over and grab a sharpie from the mess he’s created.

You pull up his sleeve, flesh arm, removing the cap with your teeth as you scrawl your number on his forearm; surprising him and Bucky swears he’s fallen in love with you.

“Call me.” You wink, popping the cap back on, sending him a wink before turning on your heels and walking out of the door. Bucky had it back, worse than ever, but something tells him that this would be different.