One Shots || Bucky x Reader || ABC

C || Cabin of Contentment ***

Trigger warning: This is not mild spice, this is porn. 

Enjoy dolls.

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You made your way down the drive, your clothes damp and clammy from the rain that had soaked you to the bone. Your feet felt as cold as ice as you had given up on your sister's strappy high heels as soon as you had left the party. Gods- why had you even gone there in the first place? You swung the heels around lazily, knowing your sister was already going to murder you for having ruined them anyways. Why not add that to your long list of tonight's failures?

The final steps up to the lake house, which belonged to your best friend's father, were incredibly slippery, either because of the rain or the shot of whiskey you had done before you left. You had to make a serious effort to prevent yourself from slipping and having an unwanted make-out session with one of the stone slabs that formed the stairs. Still, it would probably make for a better make-out session than with John Walker. A solitary pumpkin with a weirdly lopsided smile gazed up at you from the doorstep and made you pull a face. Even the half-rotten pumpkin seemed to be judging you.

The only person in the world who always managed to lift your spirits without fail happened to be the most-sought-after bachelor in town; James Buchanan Barnes. You had been best friends ever since kindergarten and he had fulfilled the role of an additional brother for years. Little did you know that your lanky awkward friend would grow into a muscular demi-god. But, he was still like your brother which meant that tonight, he would have to deal with the wreckage that was you, whether he felt like it or not.

You gingerly pushed open the door, knowing Bucky left it unlocked until he would go to bed, which usually wasn't until 2 am. Your soaked Halloween outfit was dripping rainwater onto the doormat as you dumped your heels in a corner and started fussing over releasing your body from the wretched coat you were wearing. As soon as you had freed your body from the coat and threw it aside, you heard a familiar deep chuckle and immediately imagined the cocky smirk that usually went along with it.

Your eyes travelled upwards until they found Bucky's blue ones way up high. You looked up to find him hanging onto one of the beams which travelled parallel across the pointed roof. He had clearly decided to have a late-night workout and appeared frozen halfway in a chin-up. He simply hung there, wearing nothing but sweatpants which hung dangerously low on his waist. His torso was coated in a soft glow of sweat, even coating the tattoo sleeve on his left arm. Your eyes travelled over his body greedily and it took you a few seconds to catch yourself and mentally slap some sense into yourself as you brought your eyes back up to his face.

As he dropped himself from the beam and connected his feet with the floor again, you found his eyes traveling from your bare feet, slowly moving upwards over the skimpy white angel dress you had bought that morning, ending at the glittery limp halo attached to the headband in your hair. His initial look of surprise turned into a smirk of pure amusement. His lips parted, clearly ready to make some clever and cheeky remark about the state of you, but you cut him off.

"Not. A. Word," you warned him as you pulled the glittery halo from your hair, throwing it at him. He easily evaded it with a chuckle, pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he leaned against the nearby wall, his eyes not leaving your dress for even a second.

The ridiculously short angel dress you had bought that morning was one of three options left to a person who forgot to buy a costume on Halloween morning. It was either this, a hot dog costume or a sexy nun. You checked your cheeks for runny mascara but stopped as soon as you noticed Bucky's cheeky eyes were focussed on the bottom-line of the dress which had lifted when you did so and then continued to travel down your legs.