still friends

Chapter 5: Books

November 3rd, 2026

He was never a reader, not really. He'd read the classics, he'd been a big fan of The Hobbit when it originally was printed, but to just read all the time? No, he couldn't say it was a common pass time of his.

Wanda was a major book worm. She said it helped her sooth, helped her decompress. If anything, it took her away from him, and he wasn't a fan.

Being in her presence was his way of soothing. Hearing her sigh underneath him was how he decompressed.

Her favorite were sappy romance novels, the kind that had half naked men with ripped abdomens on the front, a skinny blonde in their arms or hanging off of them. Bucky couldn't understand the appeal, not when they had their own romance.

Last week, he'd bought her a bouquet of daisies. Nothing insane, just a little gesture to brighten her day. Girls in the 40's had always loved flowers, and Wanda was really no different. She'd blown him in the closet as he'd been trying to choose his attire after she'd put the flowers in a vase.

Now she was propped up at the kitchen table, her book flat and open on the surface as she leaned over, her hair draped over one shoulder. He wanted to kiss her.

Placing a hand gingerly on her back, he dipped his head, brushing his lips against her temple. She murmured in response, hand on the center fold of the page, eyes unmoving.

"Hi."

"Hi." She replies, and gives his hand a squeeze, but doesn't look up.

"Wanda?"

No answer.

He nods, understanding she's preoccupied. Pulling out the chair, he sits down, propping his chin up to wait.

And he waits.

He drums his fingers, watching her. She flips a page.

How long had it been since he first attempted at an interruption?

More time passes.

For fucks sake.

It can't be that interesting, can it?

She's so pretty when she's intent.

How on earth is she still so focused.

He's hungry, bored and desperate for her. Standing, he begins opening cabinets and drawers banging them shut not so gently. He sees her stir, her hand dropping from the book to drum on its edges and he grins triumphantly.

Continuing his noise, he finally settles on the peanut butter, removing the lid and letting it clatter to the counter top. Her shoulders twitch, and she sighs lightly, scooting back in her chair before waltzing over to the sofa, plopping down. She's further from the kitchen, therefore further from the noise.

He groans in frustration, scoops some of the peanut butter and takes a bite. He'd rather be eating her, making her thighs tremble, and he slams the jar down before following in her wake.

He sits on his haunches in front of her.

Book open on her lap, she's wearing one of his night shirts. Hair loose and unbrushed, it covers her neck and shoulders, whips falling into her face. She's got fuzzy socks on her feet, her butt and thighs hidden beneath the tee.

He's looking at home.

"Sweetheart." He mummers, calling her by her favorite nickname. Her eyes flick to his and he has her within reach. His flesh hand holds her knee, nudging it apart from the other, eyes looking down.

Wandas wearing her silk panties. They're ruby red, with a black little bow in the middle.

His cock jumps in excitement, and he swallows.