Let the Demons Rain
The colors that paint the sky remind you that there is beauty in the end. Even as the sun rests for the day, there is beauty it leaves behind. The pink and orange hues send warmth throughout your skin and deep into your bones. Stars are making their appearance in the black and deep blue, little freckles splattering across the dome above your head.
You've perched yourself on the roof of your apartment building. Dillan was gone, said he needed to go away for work for a few days. You mildly hope, if his work what he says it is and what you believe it is, that he catches a stray bullet in his knee cap. Or maybe his shoulder. Hell, even his jugular and let his blood spray out like a water fountain.
Pulling your knees up closer to your chest, you rock soothingly to yourself and wonder how did you get here.
You had always been a bit careful who you let into your life. Yeah, you have a couple life long friends since middle school, or even high school. They have been there for every part of the way, but they're gone now. You moved to New York to pursue your dreams of being a photographer. Capturing the beauty in every moment has always brought you joy. You thought New York would offer that. Your best friend since seventh grade had moved to a small town Wisconsin to be with her husband. Your other best friend moved over seas to Ireland, to become a teacher. Last you heard, she had found someone who finally treats her the way she deserves. A small smile forms on your face as you think of your friends. You miss them greatly.
The first tears falls then. The damn breaks.
Father left when you were six, a stupid alcoholic who wanted someone twelve years younger than him. She could have been a sister to you with that age difference. Your mother, she tried to the best of her abilities to be the mother you needed. It was hard, raising not only you but, you had two brothers and an older sister. Ryan was the oldest brother of four years, Alex the brother just a year older than you, and then Miranda the oldest of you all. They all had families and lives back home. You had to be the one to leave. You needed to leave.
The abuse you suffered from the forced visits with your father, the lack of love and care your mother gave you, and your siblings could only do so much to protect you. Being the youngest, you became your parents punching bag for emotion abuse. It had lead you into a life of eating disorders, mental health issues, self harm, and body dysmorphia.
You were bullied by not only the kids at school, but by your parents because you always looked fat. It was an easy target on you.
Its not that you are fat. You have curves. Your thighs are thick, they touch. You have larger boobs. You fill your clothes nicely, there is nothing wrong with that. You have a small pudge from where you organs need to be, you know...a fucking uterus. You're not overweight. You're thick. You have grown to love your body, but god it was not easy.
You have worked so fucking hard to get to were you are now. You have good income, you run a small photography business with a handful of photographers and editors. You mostly only shoot sessions when absolutely needed. There is a small office you own a few blocks outside of Queens. You could say you are doing pretty damn well for yourself. You have made it in New York, in ways most have never tasted.
The downward spiral started with Dillan. You met him while working a wedding in Brooklyn, he was a groomsman. He looked so nice in the black tux, his light brunette hair was styled so nicely, and his green eyes looked so welcoming. You had only given him a chance because he gave you attention that you craved. Something about him wanting to get to know you for you, not for your body.
Dillan had warn that mask for a year before the cracks started to form. It stated as the yelling, the belittling, and the gaslighting. He would of course say he was sorry, say he loved you, and then be good for a few weeks. Maybe a month. Then, it was back to the bullshit.
You had no where to go. Yes, you have our own little business, you sat comfortably on money; but the apartment was yours. You worked for this. To be able to sit on the roof top and sob about your pain to the open skies. He moved in. You have told him to leave before, that if he wasn't going to speak to you like you are a person, or someone he claimed to love, he needed to leave. The boundary was set. You stood your ground.
He hit you. Pushed you to a wall and pinned you there as he screamed at you. "You'd never find anyone who could deal with you the way I can." He had spat on you.
You're terrified of him. You called your sister, and she gave you the words you needed to hear. But...he wouldn't leave.
Calling the cops didn't help. It made it worst. He would put the charm and tell them that it your fault. As soon as the door would shut, the punches landed harder.
You began working more, working in office and taking more session just to get away. Thank god you never turned on your location on your phone so he couldn't track you if he wanted to. You would find reasons to leave or hide away. At the end of the day though, you had to go home to sleep.
You watch the sun disappear behind the horizon, leaving you with a kiss of warmth before the chilly late summer air whispers on your skin.
Thinking back to the night you met Bucky, you smile softly. He had given off this aura of strength and danger, but his voice and eyes melted over you in hot lava. It felt good. As he had played with a small strand of your hair on the back of your shoulder, the soft touches of his arm as he moved. He made you feel...seen.
All the eyes on you that night made you question all them. Had they been staring at your bruises, marks, the pain on your face? You had cried during your walk, maybe they saw the blotching of your sadness? Its like they all knew and were...mad? From the first bouncer, the one by the bathroom, Clint the bartender, and to Bucky's dark evil shadow. His words still bounced around in your head. You of course looked into it. Eye drops...go unnoticed unless they specifically are told to look for that chemical.
You're not a killer. You can't hurt anyone, haven't ever hurt anyone. You had too much kindness in you, too much love. But, you could cut people out without a second thought. When you hurt, you make sure the person who hurt you feels you dig into their bones and spoon out the bone marrow. You know you want Dillan to hurt. You don't want him dead.
You haven't gone back in over a month. Season was slowly changing into Autumn, the hot summer nights slowly fading into the best time of the year.
Taking in a deep breath, you stand. You want to go back. Dillan is gone for now, you should celebrate your moment of freedom while you can.
Throwing on a double leg slit black dress, hair down naturally, you do some light makeup. The dress has thin straps draped over your shoulders, a deep neck line that shows off your full cleavage. The fabric reminds you if silk and cotton had a baby. Its soft to the touch like silk, but its stretches like cotton. In the mirror, you look over yourself. The leg slits show off your full thighs, but also enhance your hips. The shoes you've slipped on are small comfortable heels. The heel big enough to help give support to your ankles. The boots you had warn before where thrown away, because fuck them. The blisters you dealt with for days after sucked ass.
The small gold necklace around your neck was a gift from your mother when you said you where moving. A small single diamond rest on your breastbone, enhancing your clavicle bones and throat. You're not hiding this time.
With the last swipe of your dark red lipstick, you grin at yourself. Damn, I'd do me. You laugh in your head. Pershing you lips, you walk out with confidence you haven't felt in years.
You may be with Dillan, but you're not going to hide away in your home, paying for someone to change the locks, and not live life. You will find away out of this.
Hailing a cab, you tell the nice older man the name of the bar. When you say it, his eyes light up, "Oh! Mr. Barnes place? I hear its one of the best places to go to get a well made drink."
You smile at the kind man, "I agree. Only been there once, but the drink was strong and not overly priced from what I remember." You didn't pay, he doesn't need to know.
The small talks went on for only a few moments, with him stating he is excited for Autumn to come back and you couldn't agree more. October was the most beautiful month of the year. You watch the city slowly pass by out the window. The glass is slightly down, the smell of the outside filling you nose. Tonight, you where going to have fun. Your plan is to find a new friend, whether it be Bucky, Steve, Sam, or hell - you'll take Clint. He was funny and had this glow of mischief, it was what you needed during this time of a slow painful break up. Changing the locks was the first step. The pending restraining order was the next. You are going to get out of this. You will not do this to yourself for another three years.
The cab pulls up to the sidewalk, and theres a line down the side of the building. You huff. Should have known better because it is Friday night, everyone is going to be out. The driver smiles at you as you hand him cash, telling him to keep the change. His eyes grow wide and he stutters that he must not keep all of it. You laugh, "You deserve it. Thank you." And with that, you shut the door, stepping up on the sidewalk. You stand there for a moment, checking your clutch for your ID and cards and phone. As you stand there, you feel eyes on you.
Glancing up quickly, and back to your hands, you freeze. The big blonde bouncer is standing at the front door again, his eyes are on you. Licking your lips, you look up again. He is smiling, hand held up to a mans face who is trying to get his attention. The big man laughs, motioning for you to come. You turn your head, theres no one behind you, no one next to you. Landing back on him, you point to yourself. His booming laugh fills the night, "Yes, you!"
You slowly stride over to him, cutting everyone in line. The hisses and groans make you raise your chin higher. "Yes?" you great him.
Big man grins, "Its lovely to see you this way than the last time I saw you." Theres a sparkle in his eye, "Thor, pleasure is mine." He places his hand out to you.
You shake his hand, and go to say your name and then stop, squint at him, "What is going on?"
Thor laughs again, stepping to the side to let you inside. "Was given instructions to let you in right away, should you ever come back."
You huff a laugh, "Thank you." One long look at his face, you smile widely and walk in.
The place is bumping. Music so loud, its shaking the walls and floors. You look around the bar, searching for a chair or a stool to sit your ass on. Theres on at a table in the far back, in a little nook at the end of the wall of windows. There are widows behind the tables, making only one wall solid. You walk that way, but are stopped when you hear your name being yelled from by the bar.
Clint stands at the end, where the waitress pick ups orders, no one is allowed to sit there or block the way. The big smirk you remember is still there. "You finally came back. Better now?"
You tilt your head as you place your hands on the counter, "I am. Thank you for...being concerned."
"Its my job. Now, I saw you walk in. Figured you could something to warm you up." He places the same drink in front of you. You open your mouth, ready to rip into him, but "Absolutely not. Enjoy your night." With that, he sashays away, and evil little glint in his eye.
Grabbing the drink, you shake your head with a smile. This is what you needed. You notice a couple stools have opened along the wall with the windows. You shrug, and take a seat. At least this way, you're close to the bar you can easily ask Clint for a refill.
Propping yourself up on the stool, you hook your right leg over your left. The motion, causes the back of the dress to fall off the stool, exposing all your thigh and a peek at your right cheek. You lean back against the counter, left elbow and forearm resting on the shelf, your hand dangling off the edge. The cold drink your nursing rest in your right hand, on your thigh. You flick your head quick to the side, pushing your hair off your shoulder. You're on full display for anyone and everyone.
You're not a conceded person, but you know how good you look. Anyone would be lucky to have a woman such as yourself to gawk at. A small smirk plays on your lips, and you sip your drink. You let your eyes wander around the room, people watching and searching.
A couple on the dance floor catches your eye. The woman has her back pressed against the mans font, his face is buried into her neck. She has long black hair, draping over her body like curtains, and she's wearing a small little red number. Its barley enough fabric to cover her breast and just the tops of her thighs. She reminds you of Megan Fox, and you hold in laugher. They're in their own little world, and you all are just living in it.
Your eyes move again, dancing around the room for him. And oh, do you find him.
Bucky's sitting on a booth bench in the nook to the far right of the room. His tattooed arm is draped over the back of the bench, the top three buttons of his deep navy shirt are open, and its pulling tight against his chest. His hair looks messily styled on his head, almost like he had ran his fingers through it. You try so hard to not openly drool over how good he looks, but his legs are spread and welcoming for someone to sit on his lap. He's talking to who you believe is Steve, judging by the dirty blonde hair that looks very familiar.
Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as all salivation dries up. You're sat behind Steve, just a shift of Bucky's eyes and he would see you. There are several people filling the space between you and him, but he could clearly see you if he shifted his eyes. A movement from you would surly do the trick.
Twisting the stool to the side, sliding your heel along the ring of the foot rest, you present your body to Bucky. Knees now in his direction, and you shift your drink to your left hand, rest your right elbow on the counter now. You let your hand play with your necklace, movement to draw attention.
It works.
Blue eyes snap to bare thighs and calves. You watch as his eyes travel down to your emerald heels, ascend your naked calf, bare thick thigh, and then they freeze. You smile widely and turn your head to look out the window before your eyes can meet.
So, Bucky is a tits man.
Thor is patrolling the line, walking along the sidewalk, with a scowl on his face. His eyes look up and meet yours, and a bright smile forms on his face with a very enthusiastic wave to you. You laugh at him, shaking your head, with a small wave of your fingers back at him. You point at the line and give him a fake glare as if telling to get back to work. He laughs, salutes to you before going back to scowling at people.
Taking a long gulp of your drink to bring some moisture back to your mouth, you're annoyed to hear your empty glass gurgle at you. At the exact moment, a new full glass is placed in front of you. You're about to say thank you to Clint, but the words dye on your lips when you see the teal scales and red flames.
You blink slowly while sliding your eyes up his arm to his face. The scuff looks nicely trimmed, with some stragglers above his cheek bones. If you where a cat, you'd be rubbing yourself along his body. He looks delicious in that navy color. "Welcome back. Was beginning to think you wouldn't be coming." Bucky drawls down at you.
He's close, his clothed thigh is so close to your naked one. You raise your chin up to him, "Thank you. Was beginning to miss the delicious cocktail Clint makes me." It takes everything in you to not raise your leg and hook it around his waist and pull him close between your legs. If he was an animal, he'd be able to smell your arousal.
Blue eyes are looking around the room, head slightly tilted, "Are you here with someone or meeting someone to be dressed so beautifully?
You flick your hair off your shoulder, "No, Im dressed for myself. But thank you."
Bucky looks down at you, a smile pulling on his lips, "You're much more open this time."
"Well, when a woman makes the first steps to leave, she tends to glow." Your lips wrap around the straw of your fresh drink, and Bucky watches your throat as you swallow.
Bucky shamelessly looks you over, eyes exploring your body on display for him. His right hand twitches at his side, he's fighting just as hard as you are. His eyes grow dark and the honey of his voice drips all over you, "Did you kill him yet?"
The laugh that bubbles out of you is sudden, you place a hand on his chest as you lean forward with the force of your laughter. That was not what you where expecting him to say, it was so out of pocket but so fitting of him. The heat from his body under your hand is almost enough to burn you, you leave it there, "No, god no. I wont kill him. But I plan on hurting him deeply."
Warm fingers finally touch you. You almost moan for him to touch me higher, but your breath gets caught. He traces lines down your calf, palm flat against your skin, finger tips pressing into the meet as if giving a squeeze, then traveling up your leg to your knee. "Is this where I come in and help you with the plan?" Evil is dancing behind his eyes.
"No," you breathe out. Your answer has his brows pull together, "I plan on hurting him with my own hands. But, I do have questions for you." You lick your lips to help sooth yourself. You want to whine for him to keep touching you, keep traveling higher.
"Ask away." Bucky grins at you.
A quick glance around the area, you bite the side of you lip and then lick you teeth. You hand slides down his torso and falls to your lap, his fingers now tracing patterns on the side of your knee. "Do you know Dillan Rocwood?"
Bucky's index finger taps against your knee, and you lift your eyes to his face. He's closer now, your head has to tilt back farther. Its not that Bucky towers over your, but you're only eye level with his collarbones. If you stand, you'll drop down to being eye level with his chest. Okay, so maybe he towers over you and you're trying to fucking hard to not press your thigh together to get some form of relief. He'll feel the movement, he'll know. Your lace thong is going to be soaked by the time you head home.
Your question hangs in the air between you two. Maybe he doesn't know who the hell you're talking about. His lips are pushed out, eyes burning into yours. Does he recognize you? You're momentarily startled when his hand suddenly grips your knee, fingers wrapping around the joint and digging into the underside, "Is he the one who laid his hands on you?" His voice is dark, deep, and dangerous.
The grip he has on you almost comforting. He has shifted to rest his left hand on the counter next to you, blocking you in. You swallow about your tongue, trying to find your voice. His grip gets harder, "Yes," you rush out. Not sure if you're answering him or if you're encouraging him to hold on.
Bucky lets out a groan, and it shoots right to your core. You want him to make that noise in your ear as he fucks yo- "I know him," he cuts your thought off, "He is very low on my employment list. He's more of a runner for us." Your confused face has him chuckling, "He does the bitch work, for lack of better words."
You smile up at him, "He likes to tell me he works high up on the list of importance. That he helps call the shots." You glance at his lips, "But I always thought he was talking out his ass. This explains why he feels he has to be superior of me. He's just a bitch." Shifting your eyes back up to his.
The hand on the counter moves to brush your hair off your shoulder, he wraps a small strand around his fingers, his face looks thoughtful, "How do you plan on hurting him?" Bucky almost sounds tortured. The fingers gripping you have moved up onto your thigh. His palm is pressing, hard, against the part of your thigh thats not quite the underside or the side. His fingers are wrapped around to the underside of your thigh, squeezing. Your breath comes out with a whine you couldn't stop. Bucky grins, lightly tugging on the strand of hair, "Thats not an answer, doll."
This asshole.
You slowly place your drink on the counter under his arm. If he wants to play this game, so can you. You've always loved teasing, makes you feel like a goddess. And right now, theres a literal king digging his finger tips into your skin. A flirtatious smile forms on your lips as you rest your hands on his stomach. The muscles tighten under your touch. You hook your left thumb under the space between two buttons and pull slightly. You slide your other thumb under the fabric, pressing the pad against the hot skin there. Bucky drops a hot breath against yours, "Well, I've changed the locks on my doors. I've gotten a restraining order on him, and, " You pause you slip your index finger into the hole, lightly scratching your nail against his skin, "I've burned all his clothes tonight. But, I was going to ask you if you could do me a small favor."
"Name it." His voice comes out hard and rushed. The hand playing with your hair is now on your shoulder, playing with the strap of your dress. You'd love for him to peel it away and press his mouth there. You could come just from the thought of it.
You let your eyes flutter at the sensation. His skin is boiling against yours. You mildly wonder if everywhere on him is as hot as what your feeling right now. You make a bold move by shifting your right leg to press against his outer thigh. The rumble from his chest is almost too much for you. "I want you to tell him you have something for him. And when he walks in," you head leans back, staring into his eyes, "I want to be the one sitting there. On your desk." You lick your lips, "With a gun aimed at his knee cap."
Bucky rolls his head to the side with a loud groan, eyes closed at the image. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your skull, holding your head in place. When he opens his eyes again, theres no blue left. "I can do that. As long as I get to beat the shit out of him after you blow his knee out."
You nod your head at him, lips parted, and you dig your all your finger tips into his shirt. "I could give two shits what you do to him after I hear him scream out in pain. I want him to hurt the way he hurt me."
Something catches your attention out the corner of your eye. Your head is pinned where Bucky has his hand buried into your hair, but your eyes snap to whats moving next to you. You nearly burst into flames.
Dillan is at the bar, ordering drinks. With the woman you had noticed before.
You look back at Bucky, "Do you know he's here?" You voice barely above a whisper.
His head twitches slightly, "No. He told me he needed tonight off for a family emergency."
"Funny. He told me he had work and was going to be gone for a few days."
"Where?" Fuck, his voice is deep. He crowds further into your space. His hand holding your thigh lets go, pushing your legs open, filling the open space with his own body. He spins you until your back is against the window counter. Both his hands on either side of you. He's caging you in.
Your hands fly out to grab his biceps. It takes every fiber of your being to not wrap your thighs around him. He's so close to you. If you scoot closer to the edge of the stool, his pelvic would be meeting yours. You lean your head back, staring up at him, "He's ordering drink at the bar, our now three o'clock. He's with a woman in red." You almost moan at him the answer.
He looks over his shoulder, and almost immediately locks eyes with Dillan. Bucky raises a brow at Dillan, who is frozen staring at him. Did this idiot really go to one of Bucky's bars and not think he'd run into him? Dillan says something to the woman, placing a hand on her back as he walks away from her, heading towards Bucky.
Bucky turns his head to look down at you, "He's walking over here. Do you wish to hide or change your plans?"
You think for a moment before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you.
Your lips crash hard against each other. Bucky's lips are as soft as you wondered, and the scrape of his scuff against your chin makes you moan into his mouth. His left hand comes up and grabs your face, his right dipping below to your lower back, and he pulls you closer to his body. Your breast are pressed firmly to his chest, your hands slide up to his hair and you pull him closer as he pulls your up to him. You could care less about how dirty this looks in public. Both of you part your lips and let your tongues dance. You can taste the faint hint of mint on his cheek, and the ale of whatever beer he had been sipping on.
Your left leg slowly slides up his, hooking on his hip. The hand thats on your back moves to grab your thigh and holds you in place. You're able to bite his lip when someone clears their throat slightly behind Bucky.
Your heart is in your throat. Bucky stills his movements, slowly pulling away from your face. Using his hand on your face, he pulls you against his chest, turning your head away so Dillan cant see you. You're so thankful, you want to cry. This was not part of the plan. God, you could kiss Bucky until the lights went out in your brain, but you didn't want to do it like this.
"Hey Bucky-" Dillan starts.
But, he's cut off by Bucky snapping at him, "I have told you repeatedly to call me James. I am not Bucky to you." His voice rumbles in your ear. "And what the fuck are you doing here? Thought you had a family emergency?" If Bucky ever spoke to you the way he's speaking to Dillan, you'd drop to your needs and beg for forgiveness. He sounds so fucking mad. On another thought, you'd probably drop to your knees for him without-
"Im sorry, James." You've never heard Dillan sounds so much like a little bitch before. You laugh into Bucky's armpit. His hand on your thigh pinches you teasingly. You bite your lip to stop the fits of giggles. "The emergency was handled, figured I could come out and have a night off. Im sorry I didn't let you know."
Bucky sighs heavily, "So you thought you could come to one of my bars, enjoy yourself, and then disrespect me while I'm clearly in the middle of something?" You flatten your hands against his chest, rubbing your thumbs softly over the pound of his heart. The fingers that pinched you press into your flesh.
"Im sorry, Boss."
"Sorry doesn't cut it. I needed you tonight for a run, but you said you couldn't. You know what, we can discuss this tomorrow in my office. Be there by nine am. Not a minute late." Bucky lightly scratches your scalp from where he's holding you to his chest. "Now, get the fuck out of my sight."
You stay there until Bucky allows you to move. When you pull back, your hand is over your mouth. Bucky is looking down at you with so much amusement, you cant help the laugh that bubbles out of your mouth into your hands. He joins you, leaning down and to laugh into your hair. "Ive never heard him sound so fucking scared before. I could get use to hearing you sound so intimating." You press your mouth against his jaw.
His hands move over your shoulders, up your arms to your hands still near your face. He kisses each finger tip, eyes locked with yours, "Get use to me sounding intimating?" He kisses the palm of your hands, "Sounds like you want to be around for a longer time than just me beating his ass."
You suck in a stuttering breath. "I'd like to be around for a longer time. Maybe be the one you fuck in your office after a rough day." Your words earn you a bite to your wrist.
"Carful, doll. I have no shame in fucking you right here." Bucky stares at you in almost disbelief.
The idea of him fucking you right here, against the counter, on a stool, in a room full of people, makes you put a show by pressing your hip against his. "You act like I wont enjoy that." Your hands flex in his. He pins them to your sides. "Maybe I'd like to be the one you come home to, wearing nothing but one of your shirts." You lick your lower lip.
Bucky kisses you then, pretty sure just to shut you up. He bites down on your lip, pulling away, "Id love that. But right now, I'd rather have my first time with you on my bed, with you withering for my eyes only." You moan as you lean your head back, eyes closed at the thought. Bucky takes the opportunity to kiss and lick at your jugular. You gasp out, jerking your arms in his grasp. He keeps your hands pinned there. "Lets go, doll. Im going to show you how to be properly taken care of."
With that, he steps back, holding a hand out for you to take. You place yours in his, sliding off the stool. Holding your clutch in one hand, and Bucky's in another, you both make your way to the back door. You notice Clint clapping at you both, an evil smile on his face. Steve is laughing with Sam, raising their glasses to you. You laugh at them as you disappear out the door.
Bucky pulls you to a murdered out black Mustang, opening the passenger door for you. You look up at him as you slide past and into the seat. "Tease." He grumbles at you as you don't even bother to fix your dress. Its ridden up, the slits now ending much higher. He can see the lace of your thong at the top of your thighs.
You wink at him, "Wait until we get home."
Bucky damn near takes the door off the hinges as he slams it shut. Hes in the car before you blink. "God, I'm fucking lucky." He grunts as he drives off.
You're pretty sure he blows every red light as he drive out of New York City.
As you leave the Manhattan area, travel through Maspeth, into Queens, you finally look over at Bucky. He looks relaxed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. His thumb is rubbing softly along the dip of your thigh muscles. His phone is playing rock music quietly in the car. As you stare at him, you rest your head against the head rest and your hand slides to rest on his, the other tucks its self between your thighs. "How long have you been the fearsome James Barnes?"
He smiles as he takes the exit off the Long Island Expressway, "Longer than I would like to admit." He glances at you at the light, "How long have you been living in the city? Your accent gives you away."
You press your upper lip to your nose, making a face at him. "I moved here almost four years ago. Needed to leave my past behind to start anew." You flip his hand over on your leg, dancing your fingers in his palm, "Home life sucked, " you started. He nodded his head for you to continue, "Father's an alcoholic, mother is emotionally unstable, friend all moved away, and siblings had their own lives. I dreamt of being a Photographer," you tickle his fingertips with yours, "and I've become one." You say proudly. You look up at him from from his hand, hes staring at you again at another light. He waits for you to continue, "I have my own little business, you know. I make nice income, I have five photographers who work for me, and four editors. Thats how I met Dillan. I was the photographer at a wedding he was in." You raise his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckle. Theres a small cut there.
Bucky sighs softly, "I thought you looked familiar." Your eyes snap to his. He's driving again, entering Saddle Rock neighborhood. "He was a groomsman for a mutual friend. He was actually a filler because the first man couldn't make it. The groom is one of my security guards." He licks his lips before continuing, "I was also in the wedding, that is how I met him as well. Thats when he started working for me."
You hum, "Guess I picked the wrong groomsman to flirt with, huh?"
Bucky chuckles softly. He's slowing down now, and his face is turning serious, "I want you to know, seeing marks on you didn't feel right. You looked," he pauses, "you looked so sad and in pain. Both of my bouncers saw, told me and Steve. Even Clint was ready to demand who done it. That was the first time we had ever seen a woman come into our bar looking like that." He squeezes your hand, "We may be many many things, but we don't put up with people who hit woman or children." He looks over at you, "You had come in with no shame, no fear, and had no idea who I was."
You stare back at him, waiting for him to continue, "I may not know everything about you, but I'd like to. I'd like to take you out, let you see a side of me I'd never let others see." You almost want to sob at him.
"I'd love to get to know you too. I'd love to see all sides of you." You finally realize the car has stopped, and he has put it in park. You break from his gaze to look outside.
It may be late and dark outside, but the house is lit up with spot lights. Your turn to look back at him, eyes wide. He laughs at you, running a finger along your jaw, "Wait until you see the inside. Speaking of which," He grips your chin, pulling you closer to him, he breaths against your mouth, "I'd like to see what your insides feel like."
You almost explode.