Never got over you (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Part 7

Bucky woke up, stifling the noises that came with waking up from his nightmares. He looked at his bedside clock, seeing that it was early enough that was just very early, and got up.

He had actually gotten four hours of sleep, which seemed like being spoiled after the one or two he'd get at a time, and the four all day they made. He must have really worn himself out with nearly destroying the punching bag instead of going to find that asshole, Jason.

He showered and headed down to the kitchen to see (Y/n) standing at the counter, stirring something thick in a bowl with a fork, and still wearing his clothes.

He suppressed the thoughts that were tempting his mind to turn to things that were better left as fantasies for his podcast.

(Y/n) looked up to see Bucky come into the kitchen and go to the coffee maker, her eyes glued to his chest and shoulders for a moment until she caught herself and looked away.

Their eyes found each other's as he filled the pot with water to pour into the machine, and he could see a light blush on her cheeks.

"Mm, g-getting up for work?" She asked to focus attention on something.

"No," he answered.

"Oh," she commented.

"You?" He asked.

"Not til eleven... I fell asleep a-and forgot to change my stuff to the dryer last night," she said, and he saw the blush get a little darker.

"Are you normally awake this early?" He asked to continue the conversation, trying to help her relax.

"Insomnia," she offered as explanation. "Figured I'd make some breakfast while I was up, as a thank you... for letting me stay here last night."

Bucky wondered why her cheeks were so pink, and why they kept getting darker and darker.

"Hey, Bucky," she hesitated as his name left her lips, remembering it passing them as she orgasmed the night before.

She tried to shake it off and looked up, seeing that he had leaned on the counter on his folded arms, his body pressing toward her and his eyes focused on her as his muscles stretched his t-shirt tight across his chest.

He lifted a brow to her in question, but it just made her heart race faster in her chest. "Yeah, doll?"

She felt her cheeks heat more, and absently wondered how that was possible.

The pet name and deep voice were the main reasons she had become such a big fan of the podcast she listened to; they reminded her of him.

"Why's your face so red?" He asked at her silence.

"H-how do you have this great kitchen and not have a whisk?" She blurted out her question to change the subject.

He straightened and made his way around the island counter, right in front of her, barely six inches away, and reached down to a panel that was half in front of her, making her have to step back as he opened it and revealed a dishwasher, with a whisk in the top rack. "Didn't look hard enough."

Her eyes hadn't left him, desire and need rushing through her. She blinked and took a deep breath, blushing harder, turning back to the counter and furiously stirring the pancake batter in the bowl.

Bucky studied her, stepping back after a moment and returning to the other side of the counter.

(Y/n) turned to the fridge and opened it, looking over everything inside. "Are you saving these apples for anything?" She asked.