#alternative!bucky

[drabbles-mc]

Out of Practice

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: milf/dilf

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, steamy things, reader is a mom, bucky hasn't dated in like 70 years

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: I had no idea what I was going to do for this prompt for the longest time but then tonight this all fell outta me in one sitting lmao. enjoy some cameos from Sam and Tony! And thanks again to @buckybarnesevents and @rookthorne for putting this event together 💖

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Bucky was standing at the bottom of the walkway that led to the main doors of the school. Despite the warmth that came from the late spring weather, he still had on his leather jacket and gloves. He was far from the only person standing out and waiting for the final bell to ring, but he still felt like he stood out. No matter how much time went by that was a feeling he had yet to shake.

He pried his eyes off the cracked concrete beneath his boots when the bell rang, shortly followed by the front doors of the school being pushed open by dozens upon dozens of kids desperate to get out and head home. Many of them were sprinting off towards the buses, but some were making a direct line right where Bucky was standing with the rest of the parents and other family members. He kept his eyes peeled, but he still didn’t see who he was looking for.

A couple minutes ticked by and for a moment he wondered if he had shown up at the wrong place, or on the wrong day. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket when the front door opened up again. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Morgan walking out, jacket tied around her waist and backpack settled on her shoulders. She was looking up at the woman next to her, the two of them talking as the woman balanced a child who looked like she was just barely old enough to be in kindergarten on her hip.

When Morgan looked away, she immediately saw Bucky. A smile broke out across her face as she threw a hand up to wave, an expression and gesture that he returned. He took a few steps so that he met her right where the walkways met. She walked right up to him, holding both hands out in closed fists. Bucky’s grin widened slightly as he held his fists out as well, tapping their knuckles together before the both pulled their hands back, making an exploding sound and gesture as they did.

Once they completed their ritual, Bucky turned his attention to you. You were smiling at the sight of the two of them, but he could see the questioning look still lingering in your eyes. “You must be Uncle Bucky, then?” you asked, although the answer seemed fairly obvious.

He chuckled, looking briefly at Morgan before he returned his attention back to you. “Yeah, but just Bucky is fine.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did so carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping child on your hip as you gave him your name in return. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing her out.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Just like to make sure that everything’s alright when someone new is picking up one of my students.”

“I tried to tell her you weren’t new,” Morgan interjected, her sarcasm making her sound so much like her father despite only being nine years old.

You shook your head with a knowing smile. “New to me, then,” you corrected.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said with a small shake of his head. “I get it.”

“I appreciate that.” You looked back and forth between the two of them, an odd but fitting pair. “I’ll let you two go. It was nice to meet you, Bucky.” You shifted your gaze to the young girl standing beside him. “And I will see you on Monday, Miss Morgan.”

Morgan was already saying goodbye and turning to head off towards Bucky’s care by the time the words left your mouth. Bucky, however, was still staring at you, looking at the way you were balancing the little girl on one hip while you had her backpack on the opposite shoulder, your own bag hanging in the crook of your arm. He knew that this was probably far from the first time you left the school building with your hands full but he still felt like it was wrong to not at least offer to help.

“Do you need help with—”

“I’ve got it,” you reassured him with a smile, taking a step towards the parking lot, “but thank you.”

He didn’t try to offer again, taking your word for what it was worth. Turning, he easily collapsed the distance between himself and Morgan in one stride, and the two of them started walking off towards his car. You heard the two of them talking as they walked away. Or, rather, you heard Morgan talking about her day and Bucky chiming in with a word of acknowledgment. You cast a couple brief looks at them as you walked over to your car, smiling at the sight of them.

You returned your focus to the task at hand as you tried to get your daughter into her booster seat in the back of your car. You weren’t too worried, since she had luckily been a heavy sleeper ever since she was born, but you still tried to be extra careful. You were clicking her seatbelt into place when you heard Bucky’s car engine rumbling to life.

You caught a glimpse through your own car’s windshield as they drove by, Morgan sitting behind the empty passenger seat of Bucky’s car. They were out of you line of sight as quickly as they’d entered it. When they were gone again you set both your bag and your daughter’s on the floor by her feet.

~*~

“Ew, no,” Morgan said as she shook her head, her and Bucky looking at each other through the rearview mirror, “he’s gross. All the boys in my grade are.”

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Your dad will be happy to hear that.”

“I don’t even want a boyfriend.”

Bucky fought to the urge to give his knee-jerk response which would’ve been, “Well, yeah, you’re fucking nine.” Instead, he asked, “You tell him that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “He went and asked Chrissy instead.”

“Worked out for you,” Bucky said, throwing his directional on before turning onto the main road away from the school. “You don’t need a boyfriend—you’re fine.”

“Dad says that you need a girlfriend.”

Bucky nearly choking on the breath he was pulling in. His eyes drifted from the road and back to the mirror to look at her. “What?”

“What?” she parroted back to him, blissfully unaware of why he reacted that way. “That’s what he said.”

Bucky was shaking his head, gaze fixed back on the road once more. “Yeah? Well your dad’s a—”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, a genuine sound. “Ever? Yeah.”

“This century?”

His eyebrows raised, surprised but also not. “You gotta stop listening to your dad all the time.”

A wide grin blossomed across her face. “But have you?”

He shook his head. “I thought we were cool,” he said sarcastically.

Morgan laughed hard enough at that to usher them into another topic of conversation with the rest of the drive home. Bucky went the long way, swinging through McDonald’s on the way since he was told that was fine this time around. It killed a little more time anyway, which was really what he needed. The only reason that he has the one enlisted to go and pick Morgan up in the first place was because Tony and Pepper were both running late with work. Not terribly so, but late enough that they didn’t want to ask her teacher to stay and wait.

Even with the extra stop planned in, and the most scenic route as possible taken, it still didn’t take them very long to get home. Before either of them could think much of it Bucky was rolling into Tony and Pepper’s driveway.

Bucky had just put the car in park when Morgan jumped out of the car, backpack strap in one hand and happy meal in the other. Bucky shook his head at her, laughing as he got out of the car much slower than she had. He finally felt comfortable enough to take off his gloves, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked towards Tony’s porch.

Morgan had left the door opened behind her, so Bucky walked through and closed it as he did. When he looked around the room he saw that Morgan had already made her way over to her father and gotten swept off the ground in a hug.

As Tony was setting her back down on the floor, he asked, “You got some extra fries for me, right?”

Morgan laughed. “No way.”

Tony faked deep offense at her response. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Bucky piped in. “I didn’t get you any either, for the record.”

Tony smirked. “That much I expected.”

Morgan looked around the room a little more, and when she didn’t see Pepper, she asked, “Where’s Mom?”

Tony gestured deeper into the house. “She’s out back.”

Morgan tossed both her backpack and her McDonald’s box of food onto the counter. “I’m gonna go say hi!” She pointed at Tony. “Don’t eat my fries.” She turned and pointed at Bucky. “Don’t let him eat my fries.”

Bucky gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am.”

When Morgan had scampered out of the room, Tony’s full attention shifted to Bucky. “Thanks for picking her up—I know it was short-notice.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Went okay?”

He nodded. “Teacher came out to make sure I wasn’t some kidnapper, but yeah, it went okay.”

Tony chuckled as he opened the fridge. “Figured she would.” He grabbed a beer for himself and offered one to Bucky, when he declined he shrugged with a suit yourself expression and let the door fall shut.

“Why’s your nine-year-old telling me I need to get a girlfriend?” Bucky asked as he watched Tony pop the cap off the bottle.

Tony didn’t miss a beat. “My guess is because you need to get a girlfriend.”

“Tony—”

“You met her teacher then, right?” Tony shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “She’s single. And cu—”

Bucky’s tone shifted drastically as he repeated himself. “Tony.”

The hand that wasn’t holding the beer bottle was held up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“That why you sent me to pick her up? Is Happy even busy?”

Tony laughed. “Like Happy would ever be too busy to get Morgan from school.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh my fuc—”

“Watch it.” Tony lifted the hand he was holding the bottle with, pointing accusingly at him. “There are little ears in the house.”

Bucky sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need you playing matchmaker.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the smooth dark stone-top of the island. “And I definitely don’t need you roping in your nine-year-old to help.”

“I actually didn’t tell her to say anything to you.”

“I don’t need you talking to her about my love life at all.”

“I was talking to Pepper about it. But hey,” he took another sip, “little ears hear everything.”

He watched as Bucky chuckled in disbelief. Tony knew that it wasn’t his place to say or do anything, that out of everyone he was probably close to the bottom of the list when it came to people who had the right to give dating advice. Even with that being the case, though, Tony had been watching Bucky muddle through and get along without ever really learning to get close to anyone since everything happened with Steve. He was gone now, and while Bucky might’ve accepted that, he still hadn’t really made any moves to let new people in. A girlfriend wouldn’t solve all of those issues, as Pepper had swiftly told him. But it probably also wouldn’t hurt, as Tony had told her in response.

“Gonna make me go to parent-teacher night next?” Bucky asked, his tone light enough to let Tony know that it wasn’t going to turn into an argument for the time being.

“Don’t be ridiculous—you’re not ready for anything more than an open house.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

They both had plenty more comments to make about the topic but they let it drop as Morgan re-entered the room, Pepper in tow right behind her. Bucky and Tony exchanged a knowing look, one that confirmed that their conversation as on hold for now. Pepper caught it, but knew enough to know not to ask. Instead, she started a new conversation by thanking Bucky for picking Morgan up. He stayed long enough to make a little small talk before excusing himself, making sure to give Morgan another double fist-bump before heading for the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony said, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the counter.

Bucky knew exactly what Tony was doing, but didn’t say anything. The two of them slipped out the door, and Tony followed him down off the porch and all the way to his car.

When he realized that Bucky wasn’t going to say anything about any of it, he spoke up himself. “I could probably get her number for you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not? You don’t think she’s—”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know it,” Bucky cut him off. “Just leave it alone, Tony.”

“Mmm.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I can do that. Matter of national security at this point—you’re left unattended an awful lot.”

“And you think I need an elementary teacher to keep me company?”

“She knows how to wrangle kids and keep ‘em in line—sounds perfect for you.”

“Don’t say anything to her.”

Tony stared at Bucky for a long, hard minute. “Fine.”

Bucky didn’t believe it for a second but be also knew that continuing to argue about it wasn’t going to fix anything either. “Thanks.”

They exchanged a quick handshake and a brief goodbye, and soon enough, Bucky was on his way. The drive back to his apartment felt longer than usual, his thoughts wandering in the silence of the car since he didn’t make any move to turn the radio on. He thought about you, not that he would ever give Tony the satisfaction of knowing that, the way you smiled as you balanced your daughter on your hip. He thought about the apparent ease there was between you and Morgan. He thought about your dress and the way it fell just above your knees, the way the bright colors looked so nice and seemed so fitting.

Then he shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Tony was just in his head now, having him overthink about a woman he’d met for all of two minutes. The likelihood of him seeing you again wasn’t very high, not unless Tony started asking him to play chauffer for Morgan a lot more often, and somehow he didn’t really see that happening.

When he walked into his apartment, Bucky was immediately greeted by Alpine running up and rubbing against his legs. He chuckled, crouching down so that he could give him a light scratch behind his ears. Part of it was because Alpine was happy to have his owner home, Bucky was sure. But the other part was about the fact that it was definitely past Alpine’s usual dinnertime. Bucky understood all of that.

“I know,” his metal fingers can down Alpine’s spine, causing him to arch and purr, “I’m late.”

The next few minutes was just Bucky hanging up his jacket, giving Alpine his dinner, and then pulling something out of the freezer to cook for his own dinner as well. While he was waiting for the oven to finish pre-heating, the only sound that could be heard was Alpine crunching on his kibble as he stood above his bowl. Bucky watched him for a moment, a small smile on his face at the simplicity of the life he had now. Something that for a long time he didn’t think he would ever have.

It was a good life. It was quieter now than it had been for a long time—he was almost used to it. But maybe Tony was right, not that Bucky would ever tell him as much in so many words, but there might’ve been something to what Tony had been trying to tell him. A truth that was simpler to ignore because continuing on as he had been required far less work than trying to get to know someone, trying to let someone get to know him.

He pulled his phone out, tempted to search your name just to see what would pop up, what he would be able to learn about you. Then he stopped himself, shaking his head to try and dispel the thoughts. What good would it do? Why was he thinking like you were someone he knew already? Or like you were someone that already knew him? For all he knew, you’d forgotten him already. Hell, for all he knew you had no desire to get to know anyone, let alone someone like him. The beeping of his oven saved him from going down that spiral any further.

~*~

Sam was sitting on the stool to Bucky’s left. The music in the bar was loud, but not so much so that they had to shout to talk to each other. But once Bucky processed the sentence that Sam had just spoken to him, he instantly wished that the music was loud enough so that he couldn’t hear the other man at all.

Bucky pulled a long drink from the beer bottle in his hand, gloved fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of it. “Can’t believe he got you in on this shit too.”

Sam shrugged, unfazed by Bucky’s blatant annoyance. “I’m just sayin’, I think the guy might have a point.”

“Since when do you agree with Stark?”

Sam laughed. “I’ll agree with anybody if I think they’re right!” He paused, studied the look on Bucky’s face and then added on with a laugh, “Well, yeah, not you. But other people.”

Bucky tried to keep his annoyed expression but then chuckled. “Fuck you.”

Sam wasn’t going to let the conversation get derailed. “Alright, so you don’t like the girl he was telling you about, so why don’t you—”

“I didn’t say—”

“They got apps for that now. Oh, sorry,” Sam held up his hand in a pausing motion, “Apps are things that you can put on your pho—”

Bucky’s brows knit together. “I know what apps are.”

Sam allowed himself a minute to laugh at his own joke before saying, “So it’s not the girl. Then, what? Afraid you left all your game back in the forties?”

He shook his head, eyes suddenly glued down to his beer bottle. “Sure, yeah. Something like that.”

“Want my advice?”

“No.”

Sam gave it anyway. “Get over it.” He ignored the increasingly annoyed look on Bucky’s face. “Go buy a girl a drink. Ask her for her number. Use whatever corny line you used back in the nineteen hundreds the last time you had to pretend to have some game.”

Bucky didn’t want to laugh but he couldn’t stop himself. Sam might’ve been oversimplifying but Bucky was also vaguely aware of the fact that he was overcomplicating things for himself. “I’ll think about it. But,” he paused to point at Sam accusingly while he grabbed a sip of his beer, “I didn’t have to pretend to have game. I had it—have. I have it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Riiiight.”

The topic dropped, and they moved onto talking about other things. There were frequent pauses in the conversation, both of them turning to look at people coming into the bar. Neither of them ever thought they would fully break that habit, no matter how often they went out into the world as civilians.

The door let out a quiet chime, and Bucky’s head instinctively snapped in the direction to see who was coming in. His eyes widened and he stopped himself in the middle of the sentence that he was saying to Sam. There was no brain to mouth filter as he let out a quiet, “Shit.”

Sam’s face contorted in confusion as he turned to see what it was that had Bucky reacting that way. He looked over, his confusion immediately shifting into a smug grin when he saw you standing in the doorway. Bucky hadn’t even given Sam a description of what you looked like, but he could tell from Bucky’s reaction that there was no way that you could possibly be anyone else.

“Talk about good timing,” Sam joked.

Bucky was still staring at you, not that you’d noticed, as he spoke to Sam. “Shut up.”

“Now’s the time.”

He fought the urge to shove him off the stool. “I said shut up.”

You were only a couple steps inside the bar, you phone clutched tightly in one hand as you looked around the semi-tight space. The focused furrow of your brow said that you were looking for someone. The tight black jeans and lacy grey top you were wearing said that you were probably looking for your date. There were five million reasons Bucky felt his mouth go dry and none of them were doing him any good.

He saw the rise and fall of your shoulders as you let out a sigh. You typed on your phone for a moment before making your way over to the bar, carefully weaving your way through the clusters of other patrons. The closer you got, the more Bucky hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. You were so focused on getting to the bar and snagging a rare empty seat, that you didn’t even notice that the seat was next to him until after you’d ordered your drink. You wouldn’t have looked in his direction at all if you hadn’t heard someone laughing.

When you turned, the first thing you saw was Bucky, the familiar face and leather jacket. The next thing you noticed was the man on the other side of him, the source of said laughter. You tilted your head as your eyes made their way back to Bucky. You allowed yourself a laugh of your own. “Bucky?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “H-hey. Yeah, hi.”

“So funny seeing you here!” You paused, looking back and forth between him and the man next to him. “How are you?”

He nodded again, pulling the words up one by one. “Good. I’m good. You?”

“I’m, um,” you chuckled awkwardly, “I’m alright, I think? Supposed to be meeting someone here but,” you glanced around, “I don’t see them yet.”

The man on the other side of Bucky leaned across him and held his hand out. “I’m Sam, by the way.” He flashed you a charming grin. “Not the person you were looking for, but figured I’d introduce myself anyway since this guy wasn’t going to.”

You laughed as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The three of you chit-chatted, and you tried not to think too much about the way that Bucky was looking at you. You were putting too much thought into it, you were certain. Maybe you were just projecting, taking all the growing disappointment you were feeling about your supposed “date” still not being there and channeling it into the way that Bucky seemed to be so attentively listening to you.

Taking another sip from the straw in your drink, you checked the time on your phone one more time. Letting out a deep sigh, you looked over at Bucky, and Sam too. “I’m glad I ran into you two tonight, because from the looks of it the person that I came out to see is not showing up.” You shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jeans with a shake of your head.

“He’s an idiot,” Sam chimed in without hesitation.

You laughed and nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment.” You finished off your drink and you didn’t try to dissuade the bartender who was grabbing your glass and heading off to make you another. Looking back at the two of them, you said, “My friends were the ones who convinced me to get on those stupid dating apps anyway.” You shook your head. “Lotta good it did, huh?”

Bucky nodded, shooting a pointed look at Sam as he said, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Sam was laughing, but Bucky noticed the way that he was moving to throw some cash down on the bar. He gathered up his jacket as he got off the stool. “Well, not to be the bearer of more bad news, but I gotta take off.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulders as he walked by. “But you two crazy kids stay out and have some fun. It was very nice to meet you.” He flashed the two of you another grin. “Call if you need bail money. Not me, but, you know, call somebody.”

You laughed as you and Bucky each said goodbye to him. The two of you watched him as he practically skipped out of the bar and out onto the street. Bucky was caught between wishing he could chase Sam down and tackle him, and wishing he could skip right out the door alongside him. There was no buffer between the two of you anymore, and Bucky felt so strangely exposed.

“Sorry about your date,” Bucky finally offered up.

You smiled good-naturedly. “I’m not that heartbroken over it,” you said honestly as the bartender set your fresh drink down in front of you. “My expectations were pretty low, but, you know,” you took a sip, “not so low that I assumed he wasn’t gonna be here.”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s fair.”

“Honestly, I’m just more pissed off that I wasted one of my few free weekend evenings on some guy who didn’t even bother texting me to cancel.”

“Few?”

You smiled as you said, “My daughter. Every other week she’s with her dad. I miss her when she’s gone, so I try to stay busy. Usually with friends, but every now and then it’s some pipe-dream of a date.” You took another sip. “They usually do show up, though, at the risk of making myself sound horrible desperate,” you joked.

Bucky laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Your smile softened a touch, but it was still there. “Well, thank you for that at least.”

You had every intention of finishing off your drink, paying your tab, and heading right home. You weren’t typically one for staying out all hours in a bar or a club somewhere, even when you were out with your friends. And, as nice as it was that you had a chance run-in with Bucky when everything else seemed to be going wrong, you were still ready to turn it in and go home. Back to your pajamas and fuzzy blankets.

That’s not what happened, however, despite your best intentions. Somewhere along the way you switched from cocktails to soda just for the sake of being able to stay longer without getting too much of a buzz as you talked to Bucky. He wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, per se, and you hadn’t really expected him to be. The two of you managed to keep up a good pace of back and forth regardless of that. He did a little more listening than he did talking but it didn’t seem to bother him. It also made you realize that even though you had your friends, and your fellow teachers at school, there weren’t a whole lot of times when you went out to socialize with other adults. It also didn’t hurt that Bucky was so nice to look at, that he seemed to be just as interested in looking right back at you.

You’d both lost track of time as you sat there, and when you were both finally making your way towards the door of the bar, it was much later than either of you had bargained for. The two of you walked, and Bucky pulled the door open for you. The two of you were mid-conversation when you landed back out on the sidewalk. It was only then that you realized you probably weren’t going to be heading in the same direction.

Bucky watched as you motioned back over your shoulder, the opposite direction from the way he was heading. “I’m parked this way, but, it was really good seeing you. What are the chances, right?” You laughed lightly.

He smiled, nodded. “Yeah. It was, um,” he could feel the words that he wanted to say resting on the tip of his tongue and he was conflicted about whether or not he wanted to actually say them, “it was good to see you again.” He paused, hating every bit of hesitation that he was feeling. “Do you, um, I was wondering,” he was reaching for the pocket of his jacket for his phone as he fumbled his way through the question, “I mean on your next free weekend…”

You felt your face warm as he continued on. You knew where the line of questioning was going, and part of you knew that maybe you should put him out of his misery. But it was sweet, and you were enjoying that. Finally, you nodded. “That’d be nice.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he took his phone out. “Great. Okay, yeah. I’ll…I’ll call you. You know,” he managed a smile with a little more ease, “save you from all the apps.”

You laughed as you typed your name and number in. “You’re a lifesaver.”

In the back of his mind he knew that he should be making some sort of move now. Walk you to your car, give you a hug, something. But if asking for your number was as difficult as it had proven itself to be, he didn’t know what it was going to be like trying to manage anything else. So he took the win, and bid you goodnight.

Over the course of the next couple days, he was caught between wanting to tell both Tony and Sam separately that he’d gotten your number. He thought maybe it would help get them off his back. What he didn’t want, though, was for them to just get on his case about a whole new slew of things. He also didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they’d been right.

So, instead of reaching out to either of them, he texted you instead. It was casual at first, just brief messages here and there. Texting wasn’t his favorite way to stay in touch with people, but he at least recognized that it was what people did now.

He called you once, when he wanted to actually try and make plans to see you. That conversation wasn’t one that he wanted to have over text, and he told you as much. You also found that to be sweet as well. It wasn’t a long conversation, one taking place while you made dinner and your daughter was busy with her toys in the living room. But the two of you settled on a date, a time, and that he would come by your place to pick you up. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much while making pasta.

~*~

“Tony is never gonna let you hear the end of this when he finds out,” Sam said as he sat down at Bucky’s kitchen counter.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky grabbed drinks out of his fridge. “That’s why I haven’t said anything to him about it.”

“Nothing?!”

“No!” Bucky said, breaking down into laughter after a moment. “You gonna tell him?”

“What, you think that we’re texting about you all the time?” Sam shook his head. “Get over yourself.”

Bucky was about to come back with something snarky as per usual when his phone chimed on the counter. Sam looked, too nosey to stop himself. The grin that spread across his face when he saw your name on the screen. At the look on Sam’s face, Bucky’s instinct was to reach and flip the phone over, but he stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed his phone and messaged you back before setting it down.

“You wanna call me while you’re getting ready?” Sam joked. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit. Tell you how to do your hair.”

Bucky chuckled. “Fuck you.”

~*~

He didn’t call Sam before the date. He also hadn’t heard anything from Tony which led him to believe that Sam had been kind enough to keep his mouth shut. That was all well and good, but he wished that it did anything to soothe the nerves that he was feeling as he stood outside your door.

He felt like an awkward sixteen-year-old again as he stood on your front step. He rang the doorbell, flowers clutched tightly in his hand as he waited. He’d spoken to you earlier, and you had seemed excited about it all still. That gave him hope. But again, it still wasn’t enough to eradicate the lingering feelings of anxiety he had.

Another few seconds passed by and then you pulled open the door. You were smiling at him as you were trying to do the latch on your necklace. “Hey! Sorry, I still have to get my shoes on and stuff. Please,” you stepped back and nodded for him to step inside, “come in. I’ll be ready in like, two minutes.”

He smiled as he somewhat nervously followed your instructions, stepping just past the threshold of your house. “Take your time,” he said calmly as he shut the door behind him.

He looked around while you finished putting on your jewelry and went to grab your shoes. He wasn’t sure what he had been picturing your house looking like, but what he saw felt fitting. It was tidy considering how young your daughter was. There were some toys scattered about in patches, framed photos on the walls and drawings tacked onto the fridge by magnets. It was a home in a way that none of Bucky’s places since he came back had ever been.

“Okay,” you said as you reappeared, smoothing out your blouse, “I’m ready. Sor—” you stopped short when you finally noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The smile on your face was wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. “Those are beautiful.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment, like he’d forgotten that he had them. He held them out to you. “Just figured, you know…”

You smiled as you took them, flitting off to the kitchen so that you could put them in a vase with water. “Thank you.”

As the two of you drove, you could feel him slowly starting to relax. The two of you talked, and you could see the way that his grip on the steering wheel started to become less vice-like. There was something refreshing in the way that he opened the car door for you, and the door to the diner that the two of you had agreed on. He sat down across from you in the booth and you noticed the way that he still had his gloves on as he looked through the menu. You wanted to ask but you didn’t—if he wanted to say something about it you had a feeling that he would.

The conversation felt easy, the same way it had been that night at the bar. The only difference now was the feeling in the air. There was a different kind of tension now that hadn’t been there before. Sure, you’d been attracted to him even then, but that hadn’t been a date. Not like this.

Every now and then if one of you shifted in your seat and your feet or legs would brush. Neither of you said anything about it, but you could feel the upward curl of your own lips as it happened, the occasional pink flush of Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes it’d make him stumble in his sentence and you’d do him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

The two of you were splitting a piece of pie for dessert, something you insisted on because you knew the woman who baked them for the diner. It wasn’t as though Bucky put up any great fight about it. The closer the two of you got to finishing it, the more you engaged in low-stakes warfare, dueling with your forks over the pieces with the best crust-to-filling ratio.

“You can have the last bite,” you conceded with a laugh, leaning back in the booth.

“Oh, come on,” he joked, “it doesn’t feel good to win by forfeit.”

You laughed, warmth blossoming up your neck and across your face. “It’s not forfeit. Think of it as, I don’t know,” you drummed your fingers against the tabletop, “me being nice since it was your first time here.” You paused, studying the amused look on his face. “That better?”

He shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Little bit.”

The two of you walked back out to his car, and you found yourself walking much closer to his side than you had been on the way in. Your arm brushed against his as the two of you walked, and you found yourself about half a step away from leaning into his side.

He reached to open the car door for you, but before he could you leaned back against it so that you were facing him. You let one arm hang by your side, with the other you brought your palm so that it rested against his chest, pads of your fingertips pressing lightly against the leather.

Bucky almost pulled away out of reflex, but he didn’t. “Yes?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing, nothing.” You let your hand drop, the pads of your fingers dragging for a moment before your arm was back at your side once more. You moved just enough so that he could open the door again for you. “Thank you.”

Bucky walked you up to the door of your house, and he felt like his heart was beating clean up into the back of his throat. He didn’t remember dating being this nerve-wracking before. You seemed perfectly unfazed, though as you sauntered up and slipped your key into the lock.

“You wanna come in?” you offered as you opened the door. “Have a drink?”

It took more effort to swallow than it should have. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

You chuckled. “If you don’t want to—”

“I do,” he reassured, his voice earnest.

Your smiled grew. “Okay.” You stepped and waved him in with you. “C’mon.” You noticed the way that he still had his jacket and gloves on when you came back out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. You handed one over to him. “Nothing fancy, but it’s also usually just me drinking them, so…”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

There were a few beats of silence, each of you sipping out of your bottles before you said, “You don’t do this a lot, do you?”

His eyes widened for a moment, slight panic. “What?”

Your smile was warm as you gestured with your hand that held the bottle. “This. Dates. Not…not your thing, is it?”

He held the bottle between both his hands. “I’m…out of practice, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “That noticeable?”

You shook your head. “Not really. You just seemed, I don’t know, a little nervous. And I don’t know why a guy who looks like you would have any reason to be nervous on a date other than…”

“Other than I don’t go on them,” he finished with a soft laugh.

Your face heated up as you smiled. “Kinda.”

“How’d I do?” he asked, mostly joking.

You stepped in closer to him, noticing a different kind of tension in his body. “You’re doing great.”

He huffed out a laugh but it was much softer than he intended, betraying more of his real feelings than he bargained for. “This part?” He made a small gesture between you. “This part I’m really,” he forced out a puff of air through his teeth, “yeah.”

There was a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Want some help?”

He laughed but he didn’t say no, didn’t move away. He swallowed hard as you took the bottle from his hand and set them both on the coffee table in your living room. He was fighting hard to say something—ideally something smooth but at this point he would’ve settled for just about anything. Within seconds you were standing close to him again, bodies a breath away from being pressed flush against each other. Your hands rested on his chest for a moment, and you waited to see if he would change his mind and pull away—you were giving him the chance. But then you felt his hands tentatively land on your hips and you smiled, your body easing against his. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“Not so bad,” you asked softly, “right?”

He shook his head, finally forcing out a quiet, “No, it’s not.”

You smiled and leaned in, lightly pressing your lips to his. It was delicate, fleeting—you were pulling away as quickly as you’d leaned in. The sliver of space left between your lips and his was the silent ask for him to let you know if this was the end of the night or not. He could pull away from you, no harm no foul, or he could lean in and kiss you again and figure it out from there.

It felt like you were both holding your breath for a moment, faces just too close to be able to get a good look in each other’s eyes. You were about to pull back to really look at him when he leaned in and kissed you, more conviction than the quick gesture from before. You readily gave into him, hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his head to keep him pulled to you. As his lips moved against yours, one of his hands slid so that it was resting at the center of the small of your back.

The two of you stayed like that in the middle of your living room, all locking lips and wandering hands. You would’ve let the entire night fall away spent just like that and been more than fine with it. When the two of you finally came back up for air, when Bucky pulled away from you enough to really look into your eyes, you saw that more than anything he was surprised. Maybe it was at you, maybe it was at himself, but regardless it was there. Underneath that, though, you could see that there was something more. His hand that wasn’t on the small of your back came up to cup your chin, the leather of his gloves smooth to the touch against your skin. He tilted your chin just slightly and then your lips were back on his again.

Out of instinct you tugged down the zipper of his jacket. Your hands came up to his shoulders, getting ready to push his jacket down off of them. It was only then that he pulled away from you again, breathless as he desperately searched your face.

“What?” you asked gently, pausing your movements.

“Nothing, nothing. I,” he pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting…I just…”

“If it’s too much,” you said, taking a small step back, “we can—”

“No,” he stopped you short, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He took a breath. “Do you know? Who I am?”

You chuckled. “You’re friends with Iron Man and Falcon. I,” you shrugged, “I connected some dots along the way.”

He laughed, a sound of relief. “A lot of people don’t…you know…”

“A lot of people don’t have people from The Avengers dropping off school snacks once a week.” You paused and let both of you laugh. Allowing your tone to get a little more serious, you said, “I know, Bucky,” you moved once more to push his jacket down off his shoulders, “and it’s okay.”

He allowed you to do it, allowed his jacket to drop to the floor. Even with the long-sleeve shirt that he had on underneath, you could see the difference between his arms. You brought your hands to his, helping him pull the gloves off next. He was holding his breath—you could tell. When his gloves were off you ran your fingers along each of his palms, skin and metal, with equal delicate care.

When you looked into his eyes again you saw the way he was looking at you—bewildered, eager. You brought one hand back to his face again, urging him back towards you. It was a cue that he gladly took, kissing you with fervor. His hands were on your sides, and when he felt the way your other hand was running up his arm, he couldn’t stop himself, from letting his hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

It’d been so long, he realized as his hands roamed your sides and back, since he’d last felt someone like this. When your fingers slid underneath the collar of his shirt, splaying across what they could reach where the nape of his neck turned stretched into his shoulders, he also realized that it’d been a long time since he’d let someone feel him like this too.

All the nerves, the tension of the night, it all started to melt away as he felt you reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt to pull off over his head. He didn’t want to stop you, and he knew that that meant something. Maybe they’d all been right—maybe there was something to letting someone else in again. As he felt the warmth of your palms against his skin, he could only hope that the rest of it felt this good too.

#connect4au #alternate juneiverse #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #x reader #x reader fic #bucky barnes event #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭. 𝟏

It was meant to be just a movie night, a chance to catch up with your best friend after a long week, but Bucky had other ideas. The two of you had danced around the obvious for far too long, and he was going to take matters into his own hands.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♆ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ♆ 3.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ♆ Fluff, angst / insecurity ჻჻჻ TROPES: Best friends to lovers ჻჻჻ SMUT: Fingering (F receiving) ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, daddy, virginity

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ♆ Please, someone take away my keyboards. I barely survived this.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ♆ I Want It by Two Feet ♆ Like U by Rosenfeld

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ♆ @smutconnoisseur

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ♆ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟮 — Pornstar AU — Masterlist

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Movie night with Bucky was a routine that the both of you had maintained for god knows how long. Every Friday night, you would travel to Bucky’s home, or he would come to your apartment, and you would binge either a season or two of your shared favourite shows or a movie trilogy. 

Only, it had become hard the past few months. 

Bucky was your best friend, and you knew of his occupation. And, sure, you were curious as all hell to learn more – but it didn’t help the fact you had a raging crush on the ridiculously beautiful six foot plus pornstar. 

It was an effort to keep the curiosity and feelings under lock and key – having been very successful at it, if you said so yourself. Tonight would be no different. Bucky would arrive at your door at any moment, take out in hand, and his handsome smile and irresistible charm-

No, stop it, you scolded yourself, taking a deep breath. “Chill, girl,” you muttered, gathering the final blanket from your closet for the blanket den in the living room. The butterflies in your stomach slowed a notch, and your muscles relaxed. 

As if you had summoned the devil himself, three solid knocks on your front door announced Bucky’s arrival. “Come in!” you called, walking quickly into the living room to deposit the blanket. “I’m in the living room, Buck.”

The door swung open, and footfalls sounded in the entryway. “Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted loudly, the rustling of plastic bags and fabric as he took off his shoes followed his call. “Sorry I’m late; the shoot ran later than I had hoped.”

“You’re good,” you soothed, that same fire sparking at the mention of his work. “How are you?”

“Just fine,” Bucky said, right behind you. You jumped and spun round to find him grinning happily. “How ‘bout you? Ready for tonight?”

The sight of him rendered you speechless for a second – his broad shoulders and chest were covered in a black Henley and leather jacket, and his thighs were clothed in tight black jeans that were stylistically faded. Normally, Bucky wore his hair up in a low ponytail, only keeping it loose for shoots (not that you knew, of course not), but something was different about it right now… Tonight he had it down, fanning to rest at the base of his neck and spreading over his shoulders. 

Shit.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You startled and blinked – staring, you had been staring at him. Fuck, you cursed silently. “Sorry, Buck–long day,” you lied, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the thought that Bucky left his hair down- Oh, god, no- “But it’s been good. And you don’t think I can’t take a marathon, huh?”

Bucky smirked. “I know you can’t handle a marathon, cutie.”

“Bucky!” you sputtered, and he just laughed, shaking his head.

“Sorry, sorry–you walked into that one. Anyway,” he said, looking at the blankets laid on the couch. “You get the plates and shit, then we can start.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” you retorted, making him snort. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw Bucky taking off his jacket out of the corner of your eye, and he placed it on the back of the recliner. His back and arm muscles rippled with the movement, and you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered, the fire roaring at the sight. Get it fucking together, you chided yourself, hastily reaching for the plates you needed. 

Bucky groaned loudly as he flopped down onto the couch and into his spot, his head thrown back. “Fucking work, I tell you. They’re making me fit more in each damn day,” he complained, running a hand over his face. 

You frowned – it wasn’t like him to complain about his job. He loved it, truly loved it. “Are you alright, Buck?” you asked from the doorway.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just… I just wish they’d take in and listen to what I want to do, y’know, into account. Like,” he gestured mindlessly. “I love what I do, but I just want something else. Fucking twinks and blondes all day is great. Don’t get me wrong–I just want something else, just once. Variety is the spice of life or some shit.”

Unable to think of anything in reply – more so the candid comment about just who he fucks, you walked into the living room and sat down on the couch next to him, grabbing his hand. “I know, bubs, you need a change.” Bucky smiled softly and squeezed your hand. Curious, you looked into his eyes and asked, “What is it that you want to do? I’m sure it’s something hella interesting.”

The look Bucky flashed at you was unreadable, almost considering; calculating in nature. “Just something, doll,” he said evasively. “Now, let’s dig in. I’m starving.”

You smiled and reached for the remote, handing it to Bucky. “You chose, you deserve it.”

The TV played quietly in the background as you two ate, catching one another up on the few day’s ventures from when you had last seen one another. Bucky had many, many shoots – his popularity skyrocketing, going by the analytics of his latest uploads of which he bragged heartily about. You congratulated him, despite the pride and jealousy swirling in your chest at the words. Sincerity wasn’t an issue. You were, in fact, very proud of him, but you wanted it – wanted him. 

Inwardly sighing, you began to regale your couple of days. Work had been busy, and the annoying co-worker was being useless, as usual. The small frown on Bucky’s lips at the news made your heart flutter. “Y’know, doll, you could always-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t think it’s for me.” Never mind that you’d never experienced anything within the spectrum of his career – too busy with your own job and life, and no one gave you a second glance. “Anyway, I wouldn’t wanna steal your fanbase,” you teased while winking, which pulled a laugh from the brunette.

Dinner passed quickly after that, and you were curled up on the couch, blanket on your lap as you focused on the TV, the scene tense when Bucky shifted. You looked over, but he was still staring at the TV, though he was closer to you – his thigh almost touching yours. 

You raised a brow, staring at his profile until he glanced over at you. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes narrowed. “Don't try to deny it, I see it. You're planning something.”

“I am not,” Bucky said innocently, smirking.

You continued to stare at him, brows furrowing. “You know, smirking while saying you’re innocent negates the fact that you are, y’know, innocent.”

Bucky snorted with laughter and shifted even closer. “I just wanna be next to you. That alright?”

“Okay…” The warmth from his bulk made you tense – unsure how to cope with the fact that the man you wanted much more with had moved to sit right next to you, his intentions unclear and unknown. 

Half an hour later, the TV rolled the credits, and you sighed happily, stretching to the ceiling. “Another?” you asked before turning to look at Bucky.

The expression on his face made you freeze in place – warmth enveloped your entire being, and your mouth fell open slightly. It was a devastating stare, hungry and predatory all in one, and he looked famished. 

“Bubs? What–?”

“I have danced around this for so fucking long, and I can’t do it anymore.” Bucky shifted, his body now fully facing yours, and you gulped. “I have seen the way you’ve been looking at me for months now, doll-”

“But-”

Bucky held his hand up, and you fell silent. “Let me finish, sweetheart.” The use of a pet name caused butterflies to come to life in your stomach, and you gave in. You leaned back against the couch cushions to better see him. “I know you know about my lifestyle, and yet, you’re not afraid to get close–you’re my best friend, and I know it’s greedy and downright selfish, but I want more.”

Silence. You couldn’t breathe – couldn’t think… “What?”

“I want you, doll.”

“Oh,” you managed, voice high pitched. “Uh–”

“Take it easy, I don’t mind waiting for you,” Bucky soothed, his hand reaching out to hold yours. 

“But–but I haven’t–” You swallowed, hesitating and feeling the dreaded panic start to flood your nerves. 

“Haven’t what?” Bucky asked gently, his eyes searching yours. 

“Had a… a boyfriend,” you mumbled, grimacing. “I-I, um- I haven’t had one before.”

Bucky stared, eyes slightly widened. "You haven't- Wait, are you telling me you've never had a partner romantically or sexually?”

Shame curled in your stomach, and you shied away, looking down into your lap and doing all you could to avoid his gaze. 

“No, no–don’t hide from me, sweetheart. Look at me,” Bucky pleaded, “please, please look at me.”

You looked up slowly, meeting his gaze. Tears lined your eyes, and you felt embarrassed – the heat that had consumed you a second before twisted into shameful nausea. Of course Bucky would be ashamed, he had sex for a living, and yet, here you were, a virgin at your age with no experience-

“Stop. I mean it, stop it, doll,” Bucky cut in firmly, his hands squeezing yours tightly. “I can see those ugly thoughts in your eyes.”

“But, me?” you whispered, sniffling quietly. “Me? When you could have literally anyone you wanted?”

“It’s always been you, sweetheart,” Bucky replied, expression pained. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.” 

“Oh, wow,” you breathed, your bottom lip trembling. “But, Bucky, I’ve never-”

“If you’re telling me you’ve never had sex, that ain’t what bugs me.” The words made your brows furrow, and Bucky sighed. “What bugs me is that you’re so upset that you’ve not got experience–baby, if I am your first for anything, I would be fucking honoured. If you would have me.”

You stared at Bucky for a moment, considering. He was your best friend, the one you’d fallen head over heels for – trust had long been established, and you felt safe with him. This is what you had wanted for so fucking long.

Fuck it, you thought. 

“Please,” you whispered, looking at Bucky. “Please.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in close. “Can I kiss you, baby?” His breath fanned over your lips, and you nodded, moving into the feel of his hand cupping your cheek. “Fuck.”

Your lips met softly in a chaste kiss that shocked you with the feeling of utter passion and devotion poured into it. A small noise escaped your throat without your consent. Bucky's reaction of pulling you closer boosted your confidence, and you shuffled into his space, almost effectively sitting in his lap. 

The sensation of his hand moving to cup the side of your neck made you shiver, and Bucky slowly pulled back from the kiss. "You're sensitive, aren't you, baby?" he remarked. 

You bit your lip. “Never felt that before-”

“Oh, baby,” Bucky purred, grinning widely. “I am gonna blow your mind, but first, if you want to stop, you tell me, and I’ll stop. I will not hurt you.”

“Okay.” Bucky’s hands moved from your face and neck to your waist. 

"Lie back for me, baby girl," he said, directing you to recline on the couch. "I want to show you something." Following his direction, you landed gently on your back. "Now, I want to double-check with you–do you want this? Want me to be your first?"

Without hesitation, you said, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted–I want you, Bucky, please-”

Bucky moaned quietly, and you found you wanted to hear that sound again. “You’re gonna be the fucking end of me, sweetheart.”

His hands moved to your hips again, and he grabbed the waistband of your pants, giving a small tug. You lifted your hips in permission, all while shivering in anticipation, and Bucky worked your leggings and panties off – your lower half was bare, and you had no idea what to expect next. Sure, you’d seen porn, and you knew what sex was, but experiencing it? It fucking terrified and exhilarated you. 

“Have you got protection, baby?” Bucky asked suddenly, tossing your clothes onto the coffee table next to the abandoned food. 

"Bathroom." Bucky raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged. You watched as he walked into your bathroom, and then a second later, he appeared with a box and a tube. 

"Now, have you ever used any toys or had any kind of penetration before, doll?" Bucky asked, looking at you with a reassuring smile. 

Embarrassment surged up your spine and curled your stomach again. Bucky sensed it, and he smiled softly. "I need you to be honest, sweetheart. If you haven't, it's alright–I told you, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I'm going to take care of you.”

“No…” you whispered. 

Bucky swooped in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for being honest with me, baby. Good girl.”

A small squeak left your lips at the praise, and Bucky grinned. “Oh? You like being called a good girl, huh?” Unbidden, your thighs clamped together, and he saw. “You do… that’s a good thing, sweetheart. Because you are my good girl–daddy’s sweet little thing, huh?”

His voice was so deep and low that you swore you could feel it in your very bones, and the words shot straight to your cunt that had started to leak. “D-Daddy?”

“I know that you know about that, baby. You call me daddy, and I will give you anything you want.” Bucky shrugged, a coy smile on his lips. “Now, I’m gonna kneel right here,” he pointed at your thighs. “And you’re gonna lay there while I work. I can’t let that pussy be empty any longer–I know you must be aching.”

You whined – a sound you’d never made before, and Bucky moved in like a wolf to its prey. His hands rested on your knees as he settled, and before you knew it, he was resting his weight against your shins, staring at you with a softening expression. “You open these fucking gorgeous legs when you’re ready, sweetheart. We do this at your pace, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied quietly, and you bit your lip as his hands rubbed up and down the outsides of your thighs. “Okay–I’m ready.” Opening your thighs, Bucky exhaled heavily, his gaze immediately honing in on your pussy. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, “already wet for me, huh? Bet you’re real fucking keen to know just how it feels to be pleasured.”

You nod, eyes widening as Bucky’s hand moved to cup your sex. The touch was gentle, and you huffed in surprise when his fingers danced over your folds. “Yeah, y’are. Good fucking girl, proud of you already.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, squirming slightly. “Bucky-”

“Never been praised, sweetheart? That’s a shame,” he hummed, leaning close until his body hovered over yours. “Get used to it, baby, because when I’m done with you, you won’t know which way is up.”

A moan fell from your lips, and Bucky grinned. “Now, I’m going to go real slow, I need to stretch you out first. I would fuck you with my tongue, but I’m a lil’ impatient–I can do that later.”

“T-Tongue?” you stuttered, eyes wide. “You–?”

“Oh, baby, you really are an innocent kitten,” Bucky purred, and you shivered violently. “That’s alright, you’ve got a whole new world to experience, and lucky for you, daddy knows all the tricks of the trade.”

You laughed nervously, and Bucky kissed your nose. “Now, sweet thing, I’m gonna play with your clit a bit–get you excited.”

“O-Okay–Ah!” Insistent pressure circled your clit, and you keened. Having masturbated before this, it wasn’t a new sensation, but having another person do it was intense, and it pulled a cry from your lungs. “Bucky, oh my god!”

“I know, I know,” Bucky soothed, his fingers moving a little faster. “Stay with me, baby. I know it feels good.”

The circles on your clit continued a moment longer, each pass making you pant from the new, overwhelming sensation. “Alright,” Bucky mused, looking down at where his hand met your cunt, and he pulled it away. “Look, baby, look how wet you are.”

You glanced down and gasped quietly at the sight, then you looked at Bucky, who was grinning like a madman. “I think you’re ready for a lil’ more.”

“More–? Oh, oh, fuck-” You gasped, jolting in place at the feel of Bucky’s fingers trailing to your opening and pushing with the slightest pressure. 

“Relax, baby girl,” Bucky whispered, leaning forward to mouth at your throat. “You gotta relax for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Taking a deep breath, you willed your body to unclench, limb by limb, until you were pliant under him again. “That’s it, good girl.”

Bucky’s finger pushed in, the intrusion burning a small amount, and you hissed. “You’re alright; I promise I won’t do anymore,” he reassured, placing a kiss on your forehead again. “You’re doing so, so good for me, baby–just stay relaxed. I can feel how tense you are.”

“Bucky, I-”

“I know, relax for me–relax for daddy, alright? Breathe,” Bucky soothed, smiling down at you. At his words, you tried again, and he smiled wider. “That’s it, now, I’m gonna insert another, stop, then add just one more. That’ll do for the moment.”

“Okay,” you sighed, moving your hands to grip his broad and still clothed shoulders. “Wait, please, I want-” You tugged at the Henley, pouting.

“You want me to take it off?” Bucky questioned as he watched you curiously, and you nodded. “Okay, hang on, baby.” His fingers pulled slowly out of your pussy, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing the muscle and expanse of tattooed skin of his chest. “That better, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, running your hands over his chest, and he shivered. “Daddy looks good.”

“Doll,” Bucky groaned, stilling his movements. “Don’t. Not yet.” You giggled, and he sighed, glancing down at your pussy once more. “Ready for more, baby?”

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling and wiggling your toes. “Please.”

“Good manners,” Bucky praised, kissing you on the lips. “Here we go.”

You moaned at the feel of a second finger, and Bucky paused, the small twitches of his hand ricocheting up your spine like an earthquake. “Why- Oh my god, you’re moving-”

“I’m not, I’m not, baby,” Bucky rushed, voice strained. “It’s just you- Fuck. You’re so tight, and your pussy is squeezing me–I’m trying to keep my cool; I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t say sorry,” you said quickly, shuddering through another twitch. “Just feels- It feels good, oh-”

Bucky grinned, the two fingers now purposefully moving along your walls. 

“Bucky!” you squealed, your stomach tensing and pulling you up off the couch cushions. “Why-”

“Let it go, baby, let yourself feel,” Bucky whispered, doing it again. “I’m going to give you a third finger and then see how you do, alright?”

“Ye- Fuck!”

“Such a sensitive kitten, and fuck, does daddy love it,” Bucky rumbled, moving to loom over you again. “Taking my fingers so well, baby, squeezing them just like you will my cock.”

The words made a violent shiver grip your spine. “Oh, fuck, daddy,” you breathed.

Bucky shushed you, and his fingers twitched again. “You think you’re ready for me to move them, sweetheart?” The words were followed by a sweeping motion, and you keened. “Like that. You tell me when you’re ready.”

“Ye- Yeah,” you rushed, gripping his shoulders. “Please, daddy, I want it.”

“Okay, kitten,” Bucky said, shifting slightly. “Here we go.”

It started subtle – small movements that made your eyelids flutter, then the sweeping motions got bigger, bolder, and you let out a low moan, your chest heaving for breath. 

“Stay with me, baby. I’m looking for something,” Bucky said, biting his lip. You watched through heavily lidded eyes as his brows furrowed in concentration, the sweeping motions getting harder. "Hang on, one second. Oh baby, that's it. Hang on, give it to me. Be a good girl. Come on.”

“What- What are you looking for?” You panted, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. It felt so fucking good, and you were growing needy – wanting more. “I don’t-”

“It will be new for you, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s going to be very intense, but it won’t hurt–do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you pleaded.

“Alright,” Bucky replied, nodding. “Just breathe for me, sweetheart–you’re gonna feel something-” Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, and your eyes bulged. “Like that,” he continued, “but a lot more intense. I need you to trust me.”

“I trust you,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the new feeling. It was like being struck by lightning, and your thighs quivered. “Please, I trust you.”

“Good girl.” 

Bucky’s fingers moved again, this time with a mission, and you swore loudly. “Oh my- Fuck! Daddy! Oh my god! Please, what-”

“Easy,” Bucky breathed, smirking, his fingers keeping up a steady stream of sensation as they curled inwards – each brush making your head swim. “That’s it, just take it, baby. Take it for daddy, c’mon.”

“I don’t- Ah, fucking hell,” you babbled, grasping at Bucky’s shoulders, neck, hair – anywhere to ground yourself.

“That, baby girl, is your g-spot,” Bucky soothed, still moving his fingers. “And each time I hit it, it makes you wanna scream, doesn’t it? It makes you want more, huh?”

“Yes!” you cried, squirming. “Please! I-I, don’t-”

“Cum for me, baby, c’mon,” Bucky encouraged, voice raised above your moans. “I know you want to; give it to me.”

Pleasure blinded you, and your back bowed to the ceiling. “Bucky! Bucky–please, please! Oh my god, I think- Think-”

“Don’t think, kitten, just let go, I’ll catch you.”

A loud cry tore from your lips, and you shook under Bucky, your climax stealing your breath and ability to move or think. You could only hear the pounding of blood in your ears and the faraway sound of Bucky’s voice calling over the waves, “That’s it, good girl–good fucking girl, give it all to me. Daddy wants it all, c’mon.”

Slowly, your vision returned, and you glanced around, still panting for breath. “What the fuck,” you gasped, and Bucky laughed. 

“Now that was a fucking sight that I will never forget, sweetheart,” Bucky said smugly. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and leaned forward to kiss you full on the mouth, his tongue parting your lips greedily. “My baby girl is a greedy one. Even when cumming, you begged for more.”

“Huh?” you asked, dazed and confused. 

“You screamed for more when you were cumming–it was fucking beautiful,” Bucky praised. “And I will give you more, sweetheart, but I need you to catch your breath first. Are you alright?”

You blinked once, twice, and looked down at your body. A sheen of sweat had settled over your stomach and chest, your cunt quivered through aftershocks, pulsing every other second, and your thighs quivered. “I am great,” you said, grinning. 

“Atta girl,” Bucky laughed. “Catch your breath, and then you can have more.”

“Okay, daddy.” Bucky winked and sat back on his haunches, running his hands over your calves this time. “Fuck, that was…”

“A lot?” Bucky finished. “Yeah, you won’t last long with my cock in you, either, but fuck, you’re gonna be like heaven, sweetheart. And I can’t fucking wait to bury myself in that sweet cunt a’yours.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mumbled, eyes wide. 

“Just you wait, gonna see how filthy my mouth really gets when I fuck you, kitten,” Bucky teased.

And you couldn’t wait, not now that you knew just how good his fingers were.

And I–

⠈⠂⠄𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #alternate juneiverse 2023 #rookthorne's works #II1

[leiamorgaine-rp]

Closed Starter/Alternative Timeline

With @bucky-barnes-rp5

It had been almost five years since Leia had seen Bucky. She thought about him every night when she helped Becca get ready for bed because she always saw him in her eyes. She gave their four year old daughter a kiss on the head and tucked her into her bed before walking back into her living room. Leia was grateful that she didn’t have to work tonight and could have a quiet night in. Of course the work she did wasn’t exactly legal. Then again she did what she did to give Becca the best life possible. She didn’t know how to find Bucky. He had left without a word and she never heard from him again. For someone she loved so deeply and believed loved her the same, she never expected to be abandoned by him. A few weeks later, she discovered that she was pregnant with their child. Leia could never regret her relationship with Bucky or having their child. The truth was that she still loved him and always would. She just hated that she had no way to find him. She was just doing what she had to do for her survival and that of hers and Bucky’s little girl. She refused to have any regrets.

( @bucky-barnes-rp5 )

#leiamorgaine #princessleiamorgainedelalune #rp leia and bucky #myhero #alternative timeline

[dysfunctionalmaki]

Say My Name

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work all around at the local country club, to your advantage you flirted and used your beauty to get what you want, though with this certain woman your own way can't seem to work.

Warning: This work contains smut and foul language, minors DNI!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

“Oh god—” You could just feel this woman's grip on your hair the more you burrowed your face in between her legs, she was begging, aching, and pleading to cum. Looking up to this beautiful older woman, you can't help but smirk at the fact that she's practically wrapped around your fingers. Who knew that the powerful business owner Diana Prince was such an obedient woman towards you, years younger than her and let alone the waitress at the local country club.

You made yourself busy as you focused on working your tongue against her clit, flicking the wet muscle against it, holding both her legs as they involuntarily jerked with your motions, hearing her loud moans, heavy breathing you knew she was close. “Please, baby… please make me cum…” she begged once more and you decided to be kind, letting go of her legs you went on to reach both your hands up to her breasts. Fondling them as you devoured her pussy, mouth pressed against it, giving short licks on her nub before sucking on it every now and then. Finally, Diana hit her zenith, cumming against your mouth, just how she always liked you made sure to lap up every single drop of her juice.

Helping her ride off her high, once she actually finished you slowly backed up, then she looked at you with her hazy eyes. “Great job as always, Y/N.” she complimented, you can't help but shrug with an evident smile on your face. “I make sure to do my best, Ms. Prince.” you teasingly say before sitting up, so you could prepare to clean her up. “Is this how you're going to live out your early 20s? Eating pussies and serving martinis for a living?” Diana asked as she watched you make your way into the bathroom. “That… That doesn't sound so bad.” you say loud enough from the bathroom.

Cleaning up your face before heading back into the bedroom with a small washcloth, you went to sit on her side of the bed, then you headed to clean her up after eating her out to both your heart's delight. Once you cleaned her up to her satisfaction, Diana sat up for a moment and reached for something from her handbag, taking out a cheque then she went on to write down the amount she's giving you and her signature on where it's needed. “Here, buy yourself something nice. You deserve it, no man can bring me that orgasm you just gave me.” Diana says with a sigh, you take the paper as you read what it's worth, your eyes widen then you look at the older woman. “What? No one's ever given you that much?” you shook your head. “I usually get 500…” it came out as a whisper from you. “Well, 5 grand's a lot compared to that.” she added.

“Now… come here and let me kiss the mouth that made me cum so good.” she purrs and you weren't going to deny that when you're just handed five thousand dollars, you could feel how needy her kisses were and you made sure to give what she needs. Her tongue swirling against yours, soft groans and moaning against your lips when you brought your hands back to her breasts to gently fondle and lightly pinch her sensitive nipple. With that happening, it was safe to say that you stayed the whole night in her condominium at the city, as the morning came she was gone and left a note on the side table.

“I’ll be gone for a whole week, I'd be a fool if I assume you aren't going to be in between someone's legs in a day or two, just make sure you'll be here at the same time next week.

Diana”

You went to take the note and place it in your bag, taking a shower in her bathroom then you went on to leave the building. You immediately check your cell to text your friend Yelena, telling her all the details of the sex and how much you earned after it. Getting into a taxi you asked to be dropped off at the Stark Country Club, you'd be a fool to quit your job even if you earned five grand in one night. As you got there, you quickly changed into your uniform, a polo shirt that hugged your figure perfectly and some short shorts that showed off your perfectly maintained legs.

It was no doubt that you're a head turner for men and women in the club, the older gentlemen would even ask you out for a drink every now and then but the women? They aren't as obvious as the men but they sure have imaginations and thoughts probably even dirtier than most.

“So, Prince is that rich?” You hear your friend's voice from behind while you are taking the orders and placing them on a tray. “I mean probably? Nobody just casually hands out that kind of cash.” you say to Yelena while waiting for the other meal since your dear customer asked for all the food to be served at the same time. “As good as it sounds, I don't think the whole sexcapade is my thing.” Yelena says before helping you with another tray, you both put on your pretty smiles when you served the meal to the customers and when it's just the two of you again the conversation started once more.

“I mean it's okay, we earn a fair day's pay after a fair day's work, the whole sexcapade thing is just a sideline… or–” “For your pleasure” Yelena finished your sentence. “Yes, for my pleasure.” you say with a sigh. Yelena left the conversation since she had more tables to serve and you're stuck at the lobby to accommodate more people to have drinks and some finger food. Until a certain group of older women walked in, there are two redheads and a blonde, you stared at them for a moment until you didn't realize you were holding eye contact with one of them.

“Oh- Hi! Welcome to Stark Country Club, how can I assist you today?” You put on your pretty smile that usually works on older men but these women seemed unfazed… Well, you just didn't notice the redhead at the back. “Hi, dear, call me Natasha or whatever, we would just like a couple of drinks before we get to the golf course, is that alright? Your choice, give us what's best.” The redhead at the front said before walking with her friends on one of the tables, you hear them gossiping as they left but you couldn't decipher what they were saying at all.

You walked towards the bar and Bucky the bartender looked at you with his brow raised. “That's your potential foursome?” He teasingly asked and you can't help but roll your eyes. “Hey, don't blame me, rumors get around here.” Bucky defended himself. “Whatever I do I make sure to do it outside my work.” you say before looking at the menu to choose what drink they should have. “They're asking for three scarlet cocktails.” it was house special and you've had a couple of regulars who would order this drink from time to time.

When Bucky finished making the drink you set it on the tray before making your way towards the three women, you did notice the blonde one was eyeing you but you paid no mind to it, you were struck with the quiet redhead who was just scrolling through her phone while waiting for the drinks. As you arrived at their table, Natasha smiled at you and you made sure to smile back, placing their drinks on the table. You were about to leave until Natasha spoke up. “Wait, I was wondering if you know someone named Yelena working here?” she asked then you bit the inside of your cheek unsure of what to answer since she's technically a stranger.

“Oh, I'm no creep I promise, she's my younger sister.” She took her phone and showed a photo of her and your best friend, after that it was shown that you nodded your head. “She does work here, would you like me to call her for you?” and the redhead shook her head. “No, no, she's working and I don't really want to bother her, just trying to see how she's doing.” Natasha says which made her friends look at her. “I'm sorry to interrupt the conversation but you look really pretty.” The blonde commented and you can't help but blush a little before saying thank you.

When you tried to steal a glance from the quiet redhead, your eyes locked with her for a moment since she's off her phone, all she did was smile at you and sure as hell your breath was taken away. You said your usual line “If you need me just give me a holler.” And they simply smiled with a nod to acknowledge you. Making a beeline back to your station, Yelena passed by and she stopped in front of you. “Don't tell me that's who I think it is.” your friend commented before looking behind you once more. “If you meant your sister, she's hot… so are her friends.” Yelena practically glared at your comment then she looked once more to confirm who the people are with her sister.

“She’s with her college friends, Carol the blonde one and Wanda the other redhead.” Yelena said then you nodded your head. “So… what are the possibilities if I hit on your sister?” you asked and she lightly smacked your arm. “No.” she simply says before getting back on track on doing her job. You were just standing on your station and occasionally serving other customers every now and then, until you felt the need to use the comfort room. Making your way towards it, you check if the stalls had people then you went to fix yourself, checking if your hair still looked good, your makeup still on, and as you were applying your lipgloss someone walked in.

You paid no mind to it until you noticed the reflection on the mirror, it is Wanda. She stood next to you and did the same, she was touching up her light make-up, and there's just this awkward wall between you two. “Sorry if my friend Carol made that comment.” she simply says then you looked at her. “Oh, it's okay, it's just a simple compliment it wouldn't hurt anyone.” you responded happily then she smiled at you. “Well, for what is worth she isn't lying at all.” Wanda commented. The sudden compliment somehow made you blush, you were used to receiving compliments so why are you blushing when this woman just gave you one?

“I can say the same, Miss…?” You look towards the redhead, she finishes applying her lipstick and she looks right back at you. “No need for formalities, it's Wanda, Wanda Maximoff.” She introduces herself before holding her hand out, you took it with yours and you shook her hand. “Now, I think I've got a reason to come here every now and then… Y/N.” she says with a smirk when she looked at your nameplate, she went to leave first and gave you a wink before closing the door. Looking once more in the mirror you were more than surprised with the encounter, sure it was awkward but that woman was something else.

#wanda maximoff x reader #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #black widow #yelena belova #smut #diana prince #wonder woman #elizabeth olsen #marvel #bucky x reader #alternate universe #au #dysfunctionalmaki

[middlingmay]

German!Gale AU

And now for the other one that won't leave me alone.

Gale was born in Germany, but he lived in France for a decent portion of his childhood. His parents moved there for work. His mother was a part-time typist and his father. Well his father was many things; whatever people paid him to be (and as fast as possible), but he was known for transport.

Gale loved growing up in France. It was so busy he could pass by unnoticed and enjoy his people-watching in peace. So many people came from all over to enjoy one of centres of European culture, or so the Americans called it. His parents didn't like that much, but Gale liked the Americans the best. Brash. Up front. Not much guessing about what they really meant. He got enough of that at home.

But then dad came barging in the front door of their modest apartment at 2.23 in the morning with a black eye, and they were packing the essentials and anything of value, and crossing the border the Germany, barely stopping on the way.

Neither his mother or his father ever explained why they'd had to move, but Gale didn't need them to confirm what he already knew. He'd lost enough of his own precious belongings - a collector's edition of his favourite comic series; a perfect, detailed model plane he'd won in a maths competition at school; the watch his grandfather had given him before he died.

And then there were the drunk ramblings when mother had gone to bed about how Gale had cursed this family and his luck, and everything was all his fault.

He was five the first time he felt the back of his father's hand and heard the vitriol he really thought of his son. And he was never allowed to forget.

When Gale was barely a man, in those final stages of gangly teenagehood, things...changed in Germany. It wasn't anything groundbreaking. More like when the floorboards that always creaked finally moved a little under your feet. People were still struggling to recover after the War, and all the voices that had been looking for someone to blame were getting a little closer to home, a little louder, a little more important and harder to shrug off.

One of his only friends Solomon had stopped looking him in the eye. When Gale had demanded an answer in that quiet, firm, unyielding way of his, Solomon had scoffed.

"You look just like them, Gale. The posters."

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Everything Solomon was not.

"Mama says we have to go before... well. Just, before. But you'll be fine, Gale."

He never saw Solomon again.

In his twenties, they were at war and his dad still worked in transport. People came to the house and paid him to take things to places they'd only wrote down once before making his father burn the paper.

But then his father pocketed the money and when those people left, he'd make a call and those officials with the impeccable uniforms would turn up, question his father thoroughly, before handing him a packet of money as well.

"Hitler will turn our fortunes around, boy. You'd best fall in line, before you ruin this for me, too, and kill us all."

Now Gale was quiet, but he wasn't meek. And he didn't think the Nazis had it right at all. But they'd abandoned a lot of their pretenses by now and news of attacks and deaths and beatings were commonplace.

So Gale decided to get into the family business. He didn't tell his father, and people who knew his last name were slow to trust, but anyone who spent any significant time with him couldn't help but respect him.

He didn't understand why, but he was grateful, honoured.

The first time he reunited a dark haired, dark eyed child with their gaunt and terrified parents he crawled into the hayloft in the barn and sobbed into the straw. It wasn't anything grand, he wasn't a human smuggler. He simply found ways to move some small supplies around for others make the bigger, grander gestures of resistance. But when frightened breaths came from the wooden crate, he'd had to bite his lip until it bled to stop from vomiting at transporting someone that small like goods.

For their life, Gale, he'd told himself.

He hated himself and was terrified in equal measure. Filled with a righteous fury that made him want to fight it all. Terrified that he'd wake up to those impeccable uniforms pointing a gun at his head, and his father grinning and pocketing his pay packet, before they pulled the trigger.

Then, one day, the last straw broke the camel's back. Or, more accurately, fell into his cabbage patch.

The dark haired man was drenched in blood. There was barely any skin visible from the top of his head to the collar of his jacket. Dark blue eyes glared out from the red.

He was tall, taller than Gale, broad and strong looking. But Gale was clearly in a better state. If it came down to it, he was sure he could hold his own.

The man held his hand to his lips, gasping on his knees in the dirt. "Bitte," he whispered in an American accent.

"Amerikaner?"

The man nodded and tapped his chest with one hand, the other still raised, palm out. "John."

John. Gale returned the favour in kind, and he liked the way his name sounded in American.

Just as he was about to ask the man if he needed help - the stupidest damned question he would have ever asked in his life because seriously - barking and shouting came from the woods a ways behind the house.

Terror flashed in those blue eyes.

"Please," the man begged, dragged from the depths of him and Gale got the impression it wasn't something he said often. "Please help me."

And the awful limbo Gale had felt stuck in for years started to crumble away. He marched forward and grabbed John roughly and hauled him to his feet. He half carried him to the hay cart and tossed him onto it. John barely had time to give him a single bewildered glance before Gale was shoveling hay over him and dragging the cart around the barn and next to the silo. Then over the hill came a small band of hunters, dogs and guns and all. One of them was a regular visitor to his father and Gale ran forward waving his arms and yelling.

"You are looking for someone?"

They were.

"They are injured?"

They were.

He led them to the cabbage patch and the blood on the pale leaves.

"I've checked everywhere and they're not hiding anywhere I can find."

And because most people saw his father when they looked at him, the hunters gave nothing more than a cursory glance around, before they left.

And Gale is left with an American man hiding in some hay, who by hook or by crook, he was going to get out of here.

#mota #headcannons #alternate universe #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #german!gale #buck x bucky

[riricitaa]

A Stucky au created for Build-A-Bucky Bingo fill: Feb: Agressive Flirting @buckybarnesevents

#babb2023 #build a bucky bingo 2023 #stucky #alternate universe #stucky au #stucky alternate universe #stevebucky #stevebucky au #stevebucky alternate universe #stucky edits #stucky gifs #stucky manips #stevebucky edits #stevebucky gifs #stevebucky manips #my edits #my gifs #my aus #mine #* #pain hustlers spoilers #ish #just in case

[punkbarnes2]

Trying some chibi and some textures 🥺🥺

If you liked, please support me on Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/derwassermann

and take a look at my Instagram @punkbarnes2 / @derwassermann_

#stucky #stevebucky #Steve Rogers #Steven Grant Rogers #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #in a heartbeat #parody #crossover #captain america #winter soldier #White Wolf #high school stucky #stucky imagines #stucky alternatives #alternative universe #marvel #marvel fanart #sebastian stan #chris evans

[sarahowritesostucky]

Alpha, Beta (& Omega) Masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, dom/sub elements, alpha Steve, beta Bucky, hurt/comfort, wedding night, alternate history, nobility/royalty au, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage, enemies to lovers

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, eldest son James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

A contract of engagement. (Word count: 1066) Teen

A most untoward introduction. (Word count: 2368) Mature

A wedding eve's dinner. (Word count: 1619) Teen

A late morning wedding. (Word count: 1862) Teen

A wedding night. (Word Count 2411) Explicit

A honeymoon. (Word Count 2976) Teen

A honeymoon, cont'd. (Word Count: 3536) Mature

A consummation. (Word Count: 2817) Explicit

A fever (Word Count: 3619) Mature

A consummation, cont'd (Word count: 2928) Explicit

A school reunion (Word count 3449) Teen

A sojourn in London (Word count 2010) Teen

A public scene (Word count 3617) Teen

A Headship's rebuke (Word count 3627) Teen

A dream, a visit, a game (Word count 4823) Explicit

A tour of the continent (Word count 5652) Explicit

A Homecoming (Word count 4286) Explicit

Masterlist

@openup-yourmind

#stucky #stucky smut #stucky fanfiction #stucky fanfic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #mcu #marvel #fanfiction au #historic au #edwardian era #alternate history #alternate universe #royalty au #a/b/o #alpha steve rogers #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #head of household #domestic discipline #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #arranged marriage

[balladofthe101st]

thinking about it, you gotta be pretty insane to let someone you just met call you by a nickname not even close to your name, and be cool with them and everyone else call you by that nickname thereafter and, well, for the rest of your life. insane. insane. insane!!!!! buck's insane for this

#buck's insane being cool with it and all #alternatively buck charmed the heck out of gale accepting that he's buck for forever now #gale cleven #gale buck cleven #buck cleven #john egan #john bucky egan #bucky egan #masters of the air #mota #hbo war #bucky x buck #buck x bucky #clegan

[aivelin]

Steve/Bucky as Gladiators in Rome for @xxxripleyxxx

Read fic - https://archiveofourown.org/works/49108195/

#steve x bucky #alternative universe #fanart #steve rogers #bucky barnes

[whoisthispersonwow]

Hello people of tumblr! :)

I am not used to using this app but I thought i would give it a shot as the fandom works featured here are straight up the best things i've found on the internet, and the community seems just AMAZING on all regards!!! So I thought, yk, that I would share my ideas for this AU fic that perhaps maybe I would write sometimes...... idk....

Actor Bucky x Model Buck

Set in the 90s, this AU follows this rough outline : despite the 90s being a time of counterculture for the youth, (grunge, alternative movies being pushed forward and towards larger audiences) and being out of the 80s and all it entails (glam rock and so on) there was this paradoxally reinforced idea of masculinity (leather jackets, men having to be "strong", etc.) and lattent ideas of homosexuality being a "bad, filthy thing" in some places, interlinked with the misinformations concerning the HIV epidemic (if you're gay, you'll get AIDS, you'll die in a few months, all this stuff), which causes the Bucks have to hide their relationship from the public in fear of retaliation and backlash.

Buck is a male model, in a decade in which supermodels are emerging, and put on a pedestal : it's a decent job for him, despite not being a Claudia Schiffer or a Kate Moss (as female models, especially in that decade, were getting paid way more than male models, and overall just represented couture houses more than men did.). People know his face, he's had a few campaigns, but it's not enough to make him one of the A-list celebrities, not that he minds. He's slimmer than what is the norm for male models, but compensates it with his face : it is his strength as much as his weakness concerning bookings. He is known by his peers as this wise and generally kind man, not overly flairy as people can sometimes be in their industry, and overall very discreet about his personal life. He is extremely professional, a master of his craft that knows exactly what is expected of him at any time.

Bucky, on the other hand, is an actor. Freshly discovered among the rest of a new generation of actors, he climbs steadily and surely his way to the top, and has people from all over the USA watching his career with interest. He acts in movies which in our timeline would feel like "The Matrix" ; "Trainspotting" ; "Fight Club", and all of those sorts of very "mainstream yet still posessing their bit a flair" movies. He's extending his choices and taking more risks, ones that could perhaps lead him to great rewards (not that he is especially looking for it : Bucky would be content to act in a short movie by a middle schooler if it was done with love and passion.) Charming, bubbly, he is loved by many of teenage girls (and others, ofc :p). Everyone has a story about Bucky, be it good or bad. "Oh yeah, he bought me a car when mine broke down" says a make-up artist on a set. "He got so drunk he forgot I was here and punched me square in the face when i got up to pee" says his friend Curt Biddick.

(i made an ugly ass moodboard for the vibes)

-> now i'm gonna dump random infos for no particular reasons

TW : mentions of drugs, alcohol, homophobic cliches.

-They met at a party/gala of some sort for a brand, for which Buck modeled and Bucky was ambassador : it didn't click right away, but closely enough for it to feel like fate played a part in it.

-Buck is kind of excluded during parties as he's fully sober, whether it's from drugs or alcohol : a rarity, in the modeling world, and often not a welcome one.

-Bucky on the other hand, is a bit too much of a party monster : he drinks a lot, perhaps snorts a little cocaine in the bathroom, takes a little speed... Which GREATLY concerns Buck.

-Bucky is as cocky in his confidence and his career as he fears (and represses A LOT) the possibility of everything tumbling down and just going back to being nobody (THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE LOVED BY EVERYONE)

-He's terrified that fame will change him, that he will become a parody version of himself, that people will only know and like the version of himself he presents them and nothing else, not seeing his worth as a person, as an individual of flesh and feelings.

-Between the two of them, he's the one who desperately wants to tell the general audience about their relationship, not caring about the consequences, because in his eyes, love is love, and there sure as hell ain't nothing wrong with loving Gale Cleven, and people should know that he loves him, that they love each other, that they're a pair, that life only ever feels complete when they stand side by side, hanging in each other's orbits. They sometimes argue over this.

-Buck, on the other hand, wishes for their relationship to stay a secret, as he fears if it was to be known, it would taint Bucky's image, this very manly, confident and suave man, mingle it with dumb cliches (in a gay couple one is a "Folle" and the other has to be effeminate, because they're like GIRLS yk) and that it would basically ruin his career, tarnish his talent and hard work, get him blacklisted from most studios/directors and only perhaps offered type-casted roles in homophobic movies written by straight men. Buck could not stand seeing the love of his life being disgraced in the public's eyes, just because of some dumbass cliches, because of his love for him.

-Marjorie (Marge) covers for Buck. She's his front : They are seen dining together and huddling on benches by paparazzis, giggling and talking as they walk in the street, and that's enough. Their story makes people dream, these two young people who grew up together and fell in love, still a couple until this day, still loving each other as much as they did on the first day... They are a lavender couple (when both member of a relationship are queer, and use their couple to cover any suspicions) which helps making Buck and Bucky seem like just buddies. Marjorie is most likely not famous, or if so, she'd be more of a writer than anything else.

-Bucky is EXTREMELY jealous and FUMES whenever he cannot kiss Buck in public, touch him, do his little Bucky things, make Buck feel his. Despite that, he's sort of reckless and allows himself gestures that would not fly were the two men not viewed as pinacle of masculinity and a great example of brotherly love. Buck can't even bring himself to ressent him for it, and does not hold it against him : he too wishes they could hold hands on red carpets.

-Bucky is basically a disaster waiting to happen at some point, a pressure cooker dangerously whistling : he bottles everything he feels, just grits his teeth and says he's fine when dark times arise, drowns himself in alcohol and wishes to forget about his worries, thinks about simpler times when he had none at all. Gale stays by his side, no matter what, no matter his terrifying relationship with alcohol and the memories of his father.

-They live together, despite the risks : Buck couldn't bear having to say no to Bucky when he bought their appartment with a huge check from the royalties he earned over his first blockbuster. It is approprietly cozy : most of the decorum is Buck's doing, but Bucky's things still find their ways in there ; baseball posters, pictures, awards and silly little drawings on stick-it notes... It feels like home, to both of them.

-They probably have bought some sort of ranch or farm, somewhere, to run away from the city when things get crazy : they bask reverently in the fact that there, nothing they do or say matters, watching the sunsets on their patios, enjoying the melody of nature without any civilization.

That's pretty much it for now, I'll most likely add things later! :D I'm begging you to excuse any mistake I made, i'm just a poor French person trying her best. Don't hesitate to tell me how you feel and stuff, I am so nervous to make this post you can't imagine lmaoo

To end things, I guess I'll just post an extract of a wip, a written transcription of a fake interview Bucky probably had on some talk show!!! :]

#clegan #buck x bucky #bucky x buck #gale cleven #john bucky egan #alternate universe #idk how to tag sorry #mota

[fiprobsreblogsalot]

Okay BUT

This Sam

With this Bucky

Go off yall x

#sambucky #buckysam #winterfalcon #sam wilson #falcon #captain america #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #au #alternate universe #fic ideas

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲

The first day of any new job was always the hardest — all the rules and roles to navigate while establishing yourself as someone reliable, trustworthy, and far too interested in your employer.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ୨୧ DILF!Bucky Barnes x Babysitter!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ୨୧ 8.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ୨୧ Swearing, pet names, fluff, slight angst/insecurity, pining, unspecified age gap, Bucky is a shameless flirt and he knows it, extreme sexual tension/implied smut, heated kissing, there is a kid in this fic

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ୨୧ Happy belated birthday, @duckybarnes1917 — I hope you enjoy the torturous collection I came up with just for you, love you long time. 😘 ୨୧ This AU and fic itself have skyrocketed into my personal top 5. I threw my all into this and I am fucking proud of it.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ୨୧ greedy by Tate McRae ୨୧ Like U by Rosenfeld

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ୨୧ @smutconnoisseur — thank you for dealing with my flying by the seat of my pants attitude because oh my god—

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo  ჻჻჻  Babysitting (December), Teasing (January), Single Parent (February) —  Masterlist ჻჻჻  Aggressive Flirting (February) —  Masterlist ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — DILF AU —  Masterlist ୨୧ @mcukinkbingo 𝗜𝟱 — Mistaken for a couple —  Masterlist ୨୧ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗚𝟮 — First Kiss —  Masterlist ୨୧ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Cloud Nine —  Masterlist

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The advertisement was like any other — a father looking for a babysitter to watch over his little girl while he worked, and from what you could gather, the father worked a prestigious job that took up a substantial amount of time when he had to visit the office. 

A sweet little girl that adored princesses and coloured her days away, if her description was anything to be believed, and you applied for the position straight away, not wasting a moment before you sent all of your credentials through. It seemed a perfect fit. 

To your shock (and relief), you heard back from your new employer within the hour. 

James Barnes, a leading engineer in his field of cutting-edge prosthetics, called you in the next half hour, voice deep and honeyed with a hidden sense of cunning curiosity. The conversation was brief before he invited you over for a drink — of your choice, “You can have whatever you want, doll, I don’t mind,” he purred after you stuttered a shocked, nonsensical reply.

It was intoxicating, the sound of his voice lulling into fantasies that your majorly unhelpful mind conjured after that encounter. The memory was barely definable through your lust fuelled recollections of your shared drinks. 

Over time, after spending time with the both of them, it took all of your willpower to not be lulled towards the forbidden curiosities you held for your new employer. He was enigmatic, playful, curious, and lethally charming with a smile to match — one that danced in your daydreams and slumber with far too sinful results. 

The rapport with your new charge came over easy, a blessed relief that instilled a confidence in you; a job that would both be a smooth and interesting challenge, sans complications of a tantruming child. 

James, however, quickly made it his mission to fluster you at every turn: asking you about your day and praising you for the smallest, littlest things, to bringing you home flowers and treats when he walked in the door to greet you. 

It never failed to make heat creep up your neck, and never failed to land elsewhere. 

You were no stranger to attraction, but James was something else — a broad, older man, single father to a little girl, incredibly handsome and intelligent, and far too suave for his own good. Just the thought of his attention made you feel giddy with the rush of endorphins. 

One particular video call stuck in your mind to this day, a loop of his voice and soft, enamoured expression on repeat. Both of you were discussing the particular habits of his little girl: how she loved certain movies and detested others, where she loved to have her meals and with what plush teddies and dolls had to sit with her, and so on, so forth. 

It was heartwarming to bear witness how much he adored his daughter, a clear example of love and devotion you’d only seen in very few circumstances. 

“She doesn’t mind having other movies,” James said, and the camera panned to the little girl happily playing with her dolls. “It’s just– She will pout and whine if she doesn’t get, y’know, that movie.”

You chuckled and noted it down on a piece of paper. “And we’re not saying the name of that movie because–?”

The phone’s camera flipped back to show James’ fearful expression, wide, bright eyes staring directly into the screen and through to your soul. “It’s because I don’t want a riot in my living room,” he said carefully, around your laughter — you couldn’t help it, he was too dramatic. “Besides, I would rather spend my time talking to my pretty Fawn.” 

The use of the pet name he reserved for only you made you splutter and hide — tilting the camera to the ceiling as you bit your lip hard enough for it to almost bleed. “Aw, come back,” James teased, “I was enjoying seeing your face—not the damned ceiling.”

You were sure it was some kind of sin for how often that comment played in your mind during the late hours of the night, but you couldn’t help it. 

In such a short span of time, you fell hard for your boss, the father of your charge, and it was a hell of a forbidden rush to think of him in such a way — above you, pinning you to the surface while he fucked you deep, hard, and fast. The deep, animalistic grunts that would fall from his lips, or the praises he’d sing of how tight you were for him. 

Not to mention, the way his deep, chocolate brown hair would fall from his shoulders to hang between your bodies, the ends of it tickling your skin when he would pull out; only to thrust hard back into your cunt with a wrecked, gravelly moan.

The clatter of your fork on your plate made you jump a mile high, and you came back to reality with a crash to find the sun casting its bright rays over the breakfast nook in your apartment. “Fuck, fuck,” you muttered, shaking your head to clear the heated images while your thighs clenched traitorously at the visual and auditory vision. “Goddammit.”

What lay ahead, however, made the burning thoughts turn to butterflies in your stomach. Today was the day, your first real test: a full day packed to the brim with activities you planned that would suit the young, imaginative mind you no doubt believed the girl to have, given who her father was. 

A loud chime sounded next to you, and you gasped in fright. “Shit!” you cursed, and you scrambled to grab your phone. 

Speaking of the devil; James’ name flashed at the bottom of your screen, and you read the text with an unparalleled eagerness. 

She just woke up and she’s already screaming about her new friend visiting today. We’re excited to see you, Fawn. 

Attached to the text was a picture of the little girl you affectionately called Starlet. She was holding a drawing up to the camera that had no doubt been hastily created — it was you, James, and her holding hands. The movement she artistically captured led you to assume the three of you were dancing in front of the giant, scribbled rainbow in the background. 

Tears welled in your eyes at the soft warmth that bloomed in your chest — only having had prominently video calls with her, she already considered you a friend. 

Memories pulled at your mind again, and you thought back to the time you received a video call from Starlet one evening — it was just starting to grow dark when your phone chimed, and you answered it without a second thought after seeing your employer’s name on the screen. “Hello?”

A bright, smiling face stared at you through the screen. 

“Oh, hello, honey!” you said happily. “What are you up to?” Then you remembered that she was a crafty, cunning little girl. With a sterner tone, you pressed on in the interrogation, “Where’s your dad—have you taken his phone again?”

“No, I’m here, Fawn,” James called distantly, and he laughed. “Starlet wanted to say hello—I’m just cooking dinner, you don’t mind, do you? Are we keeping you from something?”

“Nope.” The cushions against your back suddenly became very comfortable, now that you had company of your favourite two people. “Tell me about your day, sweetheart,” you asked of Starlet, and the little girl flew into an explanation that lasted one whole hour. 

It was only when James took his phone back did you have a moment to catch your reeling mind, only for it to start spinning at the sight of his broad, handsome smile. 

The phone in your hand buzzed once more, pulling you from the reverie. James sent another message asking if you would bring more of a specific set of gel pens — Starlet had taken to them and never quieted down about how sparkly they were. 

A giggle escaped from your lips in the quiet of your home, and your thumbs flew over the keyboard to type back: Sure can. I can’t wait to see you guys, I’ll be there soon! 

“Okay,” you said to yourself, picking up your plate of now stone-cold breakfast. “Let’s do this.”

You ignored the heavy weight of the secret bearing down on your mind as you padded down the hallway to your bedroom; how wrong it was to fall for your damned employer and harbour the lust over him, but you couldn’t help but revel in the thrill of it. 

After dressing comfortably, you made sure to grab an extra set of gel pens for the princess that awaited you before you walked out the door, locking it behind you. 

The journey to James’ home was thankfully uneventful, and you pulled up to where your directions led. 

Your mouth fell slack with shock at what you found awaiting you.

The driveway to James’ home was sprawling in the length and design. Flowering hedges lined either side of the luxuriously paved road, and there was a water feature — a water feature, you thought incredulously, placed dead centre in front of a set of stairs that led to a massive, windowed, double set of doors. 

“No wonder the pay was that high, he’s rich.” Your car travelled silently up the way while you took in the opulence of your new surroundings.

To the left of the stairway leading to the front door, was an empty space next to a fancy SUV. “I hope that’s for me,” you mumbled, and you parked your car while sure to leave space between the vehicles. The handbrake creaked and the engine shut off with a shudder, the sound of it made you grimace. “I have to get this checked; sooner rather than later.”

With no time to pause and consider your misfortune with vehicles, you slid out of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk to fetch the bag of delightful craft supplies you readied for Starlet. Through your raging nerves, you managed to hum a song quietly as you placed the strap over your shoulder. 

The sole of your shoes padded over the pavement of the driveway, and the mansion that loomed ahead of you in its majesty — the architecture alone made it appear like something from the cover of a magazine. 

“Whoa,” you breathed, spinning in place to take it all in. The beauty and aesthetic of the home was unmatched in the tidiness of the landscaping, and the facade of the home highlighted the contrasting use of colours in both the wood and steel that made up the accents. “Holy–”

A squeal of glee cut your admiration short, and one of the double doors of the home flew open to reveal a small girl dashing down the steps, clothed in a typical sparkly, princess dress. “Hi!”

“Oh!” you gasped, stumbling backwards with the force of the child’s hug. “Goodness, hello! You must be the little Starlet, huh?” The comment was teasing — you knew for certain this was your charge, but the girl beamed up at you through her fly-away hair. 

“Yeah,” Starlet giggled. Her small arms, decorated in sparkly lace, squeezed you tighter.  

A deep voice tinged with the worry only a parent could possess, suddenly called from the stairs. “Starlet! Honey–? Don’t run off on me like that–” They stopped, and you looked up — the breath in your lungs escaped as though you’d been punched in the diaphragm. “Fawn!”

You blinked, unable to form the words that would accurately depict the sight before you. 

James was smiling — the very same one that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. The tight, navy blue, rounded collar shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, while black dress pants hugged his thighs.  

It was true, you had seen him numerous times via your video calls and once in person, but nothing came close to preparing you for how he would be in the comfort of his own home; how his voice was just as deep, if not deeper, and trickled down your spine with the same heat as molten lava. 

Oh, fuck, you thought. 

Aloud, you said, “Mr. Barnes!”

James grinned and shook his head. “Fawn, sweetheart—please call me Bucky.” He neared you, his presence overwhelmingly close, and he leaned in for a hug that you nervously returned — all the while praying the hammering beat of your heart couldn’t be heard or felt against his muscled chest. “It’s good to see you again,” he rumbled, pulling away to look you up and down, and his eyes landed on your bag. “I’ll take that for you.”

“Th– Thanks,” you stuttered; the proximity allowed you to stare into his grey-blue eyes, a mix of colours you wished to capture and keep. 

Bucky’s hand brushed against yours when he grabbed your bag, but he kept that same, priceless smile on his lips. “We started the princess marathon early, if you couldn’t tell,” he added, looking down at the ball of energy that was his daughter. 

You grinned down at the little girl. “I can’t wait—I found so many things we can do, Starlet, and they all involve princesses.”

Starlet took off like a shot towards the front doors and into the house, her screech of glee loud enough to wake the neighbours — Bucky stood next to you wincing, while you rubbed your ear that was closest to the front door. The ringing only died down slightly. 

“Oh, boy,” you muttered, “Someone’s a bit excited.”

Bucky laughed. The sound rich and something you terribly needed to hear again. 

You looked at him, taking in his profile while he still stared towards the doorway of his home. The hair that looked almost black on the phone, was a deep, deep brown — where the sun bled through the surrounding trees, it shone a beautiful hazelnut. It was loose down his neck, and his beard was neatly trimmed with only a few grey patches to be seen.

The sign of his age made him all the more attractive — allowing a sense of maturity and allure to his already swoon worthy appearance. 

“So,” you hastily started, willing the heat that started to build in your stomach to simmer instead of boil. “You’re off for a full day in the office?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Bucky replied, and he put a hand on the small of your back to guide you up to his home. “I’ve got back-to-back meetings that I can’t put off any longer, given my associates and their… inability to manifest a sense of patience. And I don’t like taking Starlet if I can help it—she’s such an active girl and she hates sitting in the corner.”

“That’s fair.” The stairs beneath your feet exhumed luxury you felt you couldn’t even stand in the presence of. “Have you been looking for a babysitter for long–?”

Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Curious one, aren’t you, Fawn?”

“I–”

“I’m just messing with you, honey,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “And to answer you, yeah, I have. They all either were too uptight or couldn’t handle how hyperactive Starlet is—‘cause as you may have noticed, she’s a lot–”

“She is not!” You frowned and looked towards the inside of the house where Starlet was no doubt impatiently waiting for your presence. “She’s beautiful and sweet—creative and passionate, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thanks, honey,” he said softly, earnestly. The smile he gave you made butterflies erupt where there were flames only seconds ago. 

Bucky walked you through the threshold of the front door, and you gasped loudly at the interior — it was a brightly lit, open spaced home with only counters and half walls to divide up the rooms, and there were numerous hallways that lead off of the main area. A grand staircase led to the upper floors. 

“This is beautiful,” you said breathlessly, awestruck by the beauty. On the upper level, you heard the fast footsteps of a little girl running around, to gather things to show her new friend, you assumed, but what you focused on was Bucky’s prideful expression; a man that was happy and proud of the space he built for his family. “Really, really beautiful, Bucky. Wow.”

“You know how to make a fella feel special, Fawn,” he muttered bashfully with an accent you loved more than would ever admit to. A playful sense of amusement grew as you spotted a dusting of pink over his high cheekbones. 

The air crackled with tension as Bucky looked up from the floor and into your eyes. 

Before you could open your mouth and say something on instinct, Bucky looked towards the kitchen, then back at you. “Come here.” 

He led you into the sprawling kitchen — the size of it far too big to comprehend with counter space akin to a working, industrial kitchen. A ringed index finger pointed to the fridge. “Now, before you go getting any ideas of spoiling Starlet rotten…” 

There was a teasing tone to his voice, and it was raised to be loud enough for a certain pair of little ears to hear. 

You looked to where he was pointing and saw a whiteboard hanging high on the door. Neat, orderly writing on one side; childish scrawl on the other. It had rules listed in bullet form: no extra chocolate, no extra sugar, in bed by eight…

“As you can see,” Bucky said, still in that raised tone. His eyes wandered to the upstairs loft that was above the kitchen, and you didn’t repress the urge to grin at him. “There are rules to follow, and Starlet agreed to them; do not let her convince you otherwise–”

“But daddy,” a petulant voice whined. You only just managed to stifle your laughter. “She didn’t have to know.” 

“Starlet Barnes,” Bucky scolded, and the laughter you worked so hard to bite back almost broke free as he put his hands on his cocked hips, staring up at the loft. Your gaze followed his eye line and you saw the aforementioned troublemaker peering down between the railing, a deep pout on her lips. “You promised me you would behave, honey. Now come down here so I can say goodbye—daddy’s gotta go to work or he’ll be late.”

A loud whine followed Bucky’s words, and he shook his head before he looked at you. “Those are the rules, for her, anyway.”

You blinked. “What–”

The same fast footsteps from before now pelted down the stairs, and Starlet launched herself into Bucky’s arms, giggling as he lifted her small body from the floor and into the air with a grunt. “Are you going to behave for Fawn, honey?” he asked, resting Starlet on his side so her legs swung over his front and back. “You promised me you would, remember?”

Your heart swooped and lodged itself in your throat with the display of paternal affection. 

“Yeah, I will,” Starlet replied, her small hands grabbing Bucky’s stubbled cheeks. “Daddy, you need to shave.”

No he does not, you thought privately. 

“Thanks,” he replied, and he blew a raspberry on her chubby cheek. “Okay, be on your best behaviour; manners, honey, use them.”

“Mhm,” Starlet hummed. Bucky placed her gently down onto the floor, and her little, sparkled flats made a small click click sound as she walked towards you. “I’ll be good, daddy.”

You offered your hand to hold, and she took it eagerly, swinging your arm back and forth while Bucky grabbed his briefcase and bag. “I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up for me,” he said to you. “Feel free to eat whatever or order in, my card is here–” He shoved a black card from his wallet into your free hand before you could protest. “And– Yeah, I’ll be back.”

“Bye, daddy!” Starlet called, pulling you along behind Bucky — who’s broad shoulders and muscled back was unfairly shown off by the cut of his shirt. “Talk to you later–”

“I promise, honey, I’ll call Fawn and say goodnight.” A dark blazer was pulled from its coat rack, and Bucky shrugged it on before he smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric, quicker than you could offer as you so desperately wanted to. “And in bed by eight, no later, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” You saluted, and the look Bucky shot you made you gulp — pure heat blazed in his eyes, and the flames that licked up your spine you dampened before reignited with a roar. “We– We’ll be good,” you stammered, praying to anyone that would listen above that you could survive the night with that visual at the forefront of your mind. 

Bucky smiled and walked back to kiss his daughter on the cheek. Then, to your absolute mix of horror and surprise, he kissed your forehead, too. “My good girls,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And the door closed with a finality that left you reeling. 

“Can we go colour?” Starlet asked innocently, her bright eyes blinking up at you. “Daddy said he left me the best pencils and you brought pens?”

“Uh– Yeah, yeah—sure, we can go colour, sweetheart,” you said. Focus, you reminded yourself inwardly. 

For hours, you spent your time between the set of plush couches in the expansive living room and marathoning movies that ranged from cartoons to the most ridiculous animations, to a small child’s table — colouring with the closest thing you would ever come to spending time with royalty. 

Starlet certainly took it in her stride to act like a princess. 

“But daddy said I could–” 

“Go look at the fridge,” you said, smirking — you knew for a fact that she was attempting to pull the wool over your eyes. A deceptive, little lamb. “Daddy put the rules up there and he said, before he left, that you agreed to them—didn’t you, Starlet?”

Small, pink lips pouted heartily, and she stomped off towards the fridge, her shoes thudding over the floor. “Ugh.”

“Ugh, indeed.”

The night began to wind down a few hours later, and after colouring the whole duration, you decided a movie would be the best course of action to break up the monotony and brewing tantrum in the wriggling girl opposite you. 

As a treat, you allowed Starlet to play a movie while she ate — only after she swore to you that she wouldn’t tell Bucky. The ploy worked, for as well as any child loved the idea of a secret, she fell head over heels into the sworn secrecy and happily tucked into her dinner while the princesses on the TV screen sang another rendition of the chorus. 

You couldn’t help but watch her from the kitchen counter, where you were tidying away the dishes. It was with curiosity you admired the similarities between Starlet and her father, what you found and discerned during the short time of knowing the pair of them. 

Starlet had the same bright eyes, the colour of her irises as beautiful as her father’s with the addition of an irreplaceable hint of childish awe and wonder. Her hair fell in waves; shades of what you could only describe as beautiful in the strands that prominently populated her temples to crown. 

A sudden sense of contentment flooded you while you continued to gaze at her. Being invited and accepted into such a space was rewarding. 

It was evident that Starlet’s birth mother was no longer in the picture, and you never planned to ask or know more than what you were told, but still, you wondered how Bucky was not snatched up. He was a charming, sweet man that adored his daughter — you would be lying if you didn’t take to heart the imagined scenarios that played over and over in your mind, of what it would be like just to be part of such domestic bliss. 

The loud chime of your phone startled you from your thoughts, and you exhaled sharply just as Starlet’s head peered up and over the back of the couch. “Is that daddy?”

You looked down at your phone’s screen, smiling, and said, “Yeah, hang on, I’ll come sit with you and we can talk to him.” The screen flashed with colour as you swiped to accept his video call, and you were greeted with his bright smile. 

“Hey, Fawn,” Bucky said happily, though he looked exhausted — the furrow between his brow had deepened in his absence from home. “How are my girls, huh? Behaving, I hope.”

“We’re here, we just finished having dinner,” you said, angling the phone to show a distracted Starlet, sans her plate (that of which had hastily been placed on the coffee table in front of the couch), and then back to you. “Starlet jumped up on the couch with me to say hello.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Is that so? Alright, where’s my little girl?”

Starlet scrambled to sit right beside you, and her happy expression filled the screen while you chuckled. “Daddy!” 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky cooed, his smile heart-warmingly fond. “Have you had a good day with Fawn?”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding quickly. “We coloured and then watched movies and coloured more and–” 

“A lot of princess duties,” you cut in, and Starlet giggled, her chubby cheeks turning pink with a blush. “We are in the presence of royalty, Sir Barnes.”

“Oh, do forgive me, your highness,” he replied with wide eyes. The camera shook as he moved, and you saw his desk top scattered with papers before the phone settled upright, pointing towards Bucky’s office chair. He bowed deeply — either intentionally, or ignorantly allowing his hair to fall over his face. When he looked up to the screen, loose tendrils of hair covered his forehead and danced over his eyes. 

The last reserves of your self-preservation and dignity vanished as you tried to force your heart to not burst free from its new home in your throat — the way his eyes appeared through the slicked strands was an image you would never let escape. 

“I humbly request an audience with the Princess.” Bucky neared the camera again, smirking — the bastard knew, you panicked. 

Before you could spiral, beside you, Starlet said fiercely, “Of course, Sir Daddy.” She shifted to better look at the screen. “The Princess always has time for uh–”

“King, or knight,” you whispered into her ear. 

“Knight!”

“How generous.” Bucky laughed heartily. He sat back in his chair and steepled his hands, showing off the glint of his rings and the generous muscle exposed on his forearms from his rolled-up sleeves. “Ah, my girls,” he sighed, looking into the camera. “I shouldn’t be too much longer—Uncle Stevie is being a punk–”

“Uncle Steeb!” Starlet squealed.

“Yes, uncle Steeb,” he echoed, and he looked off camera. “Get over here, she wants to see you.” 

“Is that my favourite niece?” A second voice called, the volume increasing as they neared the desk. Starlet was positively vibrating out of her seat with excitement. 

“Well, well, well,” they said, and suddenly, another handsome face came into view. He had blond hair that was slicked back, and his beard was neatly trimmed — deep, blue eyes glanced between you and Starlet with interest. “It is—hey, Bug!”

“Uncle Steeb! Uncle Steeb!” Starlet launched herself at the phone to hug the device to her chest and toppled it from your grip. “Oh– I sorry–”

“Don’t you worry, honey,” you soothed, and you ruffled her hair. “Just be careful, okay? Hang on, let’s pick this up–” The phone had thankfully been undamaged in the fall, and you smiled at the two men staring up at you with concern. 

“You two okay?” Bucky asked — he was poised as though to run at a seconds notice.

“Yeah, all is good,” you replied, settling back on the couch. “Here you are, sweetie.” 

Starlet held the phone as though it was a priceless jewel, and she spoke to her father and apparent uncle with such vigour it was as though she hadn’t seen them in weeks, rather than just a day. The topics broached what the princesses in the movie did, to what she coloured — it was an endless tirade of excitement that only made you smile as you watched on. 

Soon enough, she started to yawn, though she tried to minimise and hide them. A father’s keen eye was not to be underestimated, however. “Baby, I think you better get to bed—it is close to eight,” Bucky said softly. 

You glanced at the top of your phone’s screen to check the time for yourself, and you blinked — it was only seven when he first called. 

“I’ll be home soon, and I will come and kiss you goodnight, okay? Fawn can put you to bed; she’s pretty good at bedtime stories, I hear.”

She looked up at you through glazed eyes. “You are?”

“I am,” you confirmed with a proud nod. “Why don’t you say goodnight to daddy now and we can get you set up and comfy in bed?”

“‘Kay,” Starlet mumbled sleepily. “G’night, daddy. I love you.”

Bucky smiled. “I love you, too, baby. I’ll come give you a kiss when I get home, I promise.”

You ended the call with a promise to do your best impression of the characters for Bucky, and beside you, Starlet sighed happily. “I love daddy; I love uncle Steeb.”

“I see that,” you chuckled quietly. “Now, c’mon, up you get—bedtime for her highness.”

It turned out to be a smooth, tantrum-free process, readying Starlet for sleep — she followed your guidance to a tee and had the independence to fit her title when it came time to pick out her favourite pyjamas. 

She settled into the cocoon of blankets and plush toys that took up more room than her own small self on her bed, and you smiled down at her as you sat on the edge. Her small hand in yours made your heart leap. 

There was a strange glint in her eye when she uttered your name sleepily. You raised a brow in curiosity. “Yes, honey?”

“Are you daddy’s friend?”

“Yes,” you said honestly, smiling. “Your daddy is a kind, thoughtful man. I am happy to be his friend—why do you ask, sweetheart?”

“I–” She swallowed and furrowed her small brows. “He told me one time that there are special friends, and I– I–”

“Oh, Starlet– No, no honey,” you rushed, desperately smothering the rising panic in your chest at her implementation — the curious nature of a child was never to be scolded, but you did not think you could stomach this conversation, not on the first damned night of being under his employment. “I work for your daddy, and my job is to look after you when he can’t, okay? That doesn’t mean I am, uh– A special friend of your daddy’s.” 

As much as I wish to be, you whined internally — though saying that aloud would be catastrophic, you had no doubt about that. Focus.

“Oh.” That same thoughtful gleam returned in her eyes, and you braced for another round of interrogation — as intimidating as a child’s questions could be. “Well, I think you would be a nice special friend for daddy. He smiles a lot when he sees you.”

It was your turn to be absolutely dumbfounded. Words failed and escaped you; scattering to the winds, never to be seen again, while Starlet did nothing but stare up at you innocently, a soft smile pulling at her lips. 

“Uh– Ha, well.” You coughed and leaned back a little, willing your mind to connect back with an acceptable train of thought. “Um– Thank you, thank you for that, sweetheart. That’s very sweet of you.”

Starlet beamed, brighter than the stars above. “You’re welcome.”

When she finally dozed off to sleep after your indulgent tale of Rapunzel, you padded ever so quietly from her bedroom and carefully closed the door with a soft click behind you. 

You only made it a few steps towards the staircase before you had to stop and think — the dull thump of your back and shoulders hitting the wall made you grimace and look to Starlet’s door, though she did not rouse. 

“Oh my fucking god,” you rasped, rubbing your face with your hands, distorting the sound of your distress. “Goddammit all, ugh.”

Desperation and pure want clawed at your insides, savaging your attempts to control your impulses; the need for Bucky’s attention blew out of proportion tenfold with the words from his daughter. 

Carefully, you tiptoed down the stairs, one by one, until you stood in the kitchen. 

“He smiles—he smiles when he talks about me,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. The quiet sound of your feet padding over the tile grew in volume while you paced back and forth. “Bucky smiles—oh fucking hell.”

A war raged in your mind, split equal sides by morality and need; one side dead set on preventing you from making a fool of yourself, the other hell bent on allowing you in the indulgence of recklessness. 

The possibility of it all not backfiring upon you was slim at best, but something nagged– No, pulled at your thoughts: what if Bucky felt the same? 

“No, no,” you said aloud, grimacing. “That’s not possible—I can’t– He can’t, he’s older, successful–”

Your tirade was interrupted by a sudden beep from the security panel by the front door. “Front gate opened.”

“Shit.” You rushed to the front door and peered through the frosted glass. The fancy SUV that was parked next to your car before pulled into the driveway, headlights on and engine purring. 

A heavy exhale of relief fell from your lips, and you resolutely decided to push the dilemma of his affection to the side; a project for the back burner that was your ever running mind. 

The SUV parked and fell silent, the headlights and taillights dimming, and you turned back around towards the kitchen to heat up two plates of dinner in the oven — silently thanking your decision to make extra. 

Footsteps sounded by the front door, and it swung open, not even creaking. “Fawn?” Bucky called quietly, his voice lowered so as to not awake Starlet upstairs. “Honey, where are you?”

“Kitchen—getting dinner for us.”

Soft footfalls came from the entryway and towards the kitchen, when Bucky rounded the corner. You smiled at him, which he returned tiredly. “Hey, how was Starlet? You okay?”

“She was great, we had fun, and she was sweet. I learned that Rapunzel is far superior over Sleeping Beauty, but nothing, of course, beats her ultimate favourite.” The oven behind you beeped, and you turned to open it and fetch the dish of food, but Bucky put a hand on your elbow and gestured for you to continue with your tale as he grabbed the oven mitts. “And she tried to worm more chocolate out of me, naturally.” 

Bucky’s laugh sounded rich and deep, a sound you wished you could hear over and over. “I knew she would.” The dish in his hands was placed onto the countertop, and you set to cutting portions to eat; surreptitiously making sure Bucky had more than his fair share. 

“Do you want to watch–”

“Why don’t we sit on the–”

The two of you stared at one another, eyes wide and smiles playing at the corners of your lips. “You first,” Bucky offered, chuckling quietly.

“I, uh– Do you want to sit on the couch–?”

“Sure, honey,” he replied, and he picked up your plate with his free hand. “Grab us a drink?”

You took a deep breath when Bucky turned his back to you. You’ve got this, you intoned. 

Dinner was a quiet affair, and you were grateful for it — while it was your job and your pleasure to look after Bucky’s daughter, the little girl sure had boundless amounts of energy, and it was hard work keeping up with her. 

After clearing your plate, you set it down onto the coffee table. Bucky was still going, so you settled into the plush cushions and watched the plain, mindless show without taking it in. 

“Fawn, sweetheart?” Bucky whispered suddenly; voice close enough that you could feel the exhale of breath with his words. 

You startled and blinked rapidly — the room was dark, the TV off and the lights dimmed. 

“There you are,” Bucky cooed. He was sitting right next to you, his hand on your knee as he half faced you. “You fell asleep, honey—you feeling okay?”

“Oh– I, uh– Shit, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, sitting up. The blackened screen of the TV reflected the clock in the kitchen to show that it was only nine at night. “I better go—you no doubt want to go to sleep soon after such a big day–”

“Fawn, hey– Stop, it’s okay,” Bucky soothed, and he put a hand on your shoulder — the heat from his palm made your mind whirr with possibilities. “It’s okay. I let you sleep; you looked dead on your feet. I only woke you up because I thought you’d want to go home to your partner.”

Heat bloomed over your chest and up your neck, the way Bucky was staring at you made something stir that you would much rather stay dormant. “I, uh– Don’t have a partner, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered. 

The silence could have engulfed you whole — tension billowed in the air, and you fidgeted, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze. 

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky said eventually, and you shivered at the sound of his voice; lowered an octave and raspy with what you guessed was shock. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have assumed. But let’s get you home, okay?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, getting to your feet. 

Bucky handed you your bag, all neatly packed and organised, and walked you to the front door and down the front steps. “I don’t mean to presume, but can I ask you back again to watch Starlet–?” he asked, looking at you.

“Of course,” you blurted, and you meant it. “She was a fun bundle of energy, and you know how to contact me if you need me again.”

You tried, wholeheartedly, to fight the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as Bucky opened your car door, and then took your bag to place it in the trunk. In a roundabout way, you wished he would be insufferable, even arrogant in his disposition — it would have made it easier to banish the swelling crescendo of want that started to consume you. 

“Will you message me when you get home?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, nodding. “I– I will. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Bucky brought you close in an embrace you returned, and you savoured the warmth of his body; the feel of his arms around you as he held you tight. 

Though it had to end. 

You pulled away, out of his hold, and moved to sit in the driver’s seat of your car. 

“Get home safe, Fawn.” Bucky closed the door after you tucked your feet into the well, and he leaned against the side of your car. 

“I will.” You smiled up at him, and then you turned the keys in the ignition. 

The car spluttered and clunked back to silence. Bucky was looking towards the hood of your car with concern. “Oh, it’s just temperamental,” you said to reassure him, and yourself.

You tried again; you tried a third time, but there was only a piteous groan from the engine before it gave in, falling silent each time. “Great, just great,” you muttered angrily, cursing your luck that carried on from when the car first showed signs of kicking the bucket. “Fuck.”

“Pop the bonnet,” Bucky said, adjusting his sleeves. “I’ll take a look.”

Oh, boy, you groaned internally at the sight of his forearms flexing again, but you complied. 

The metal creaked and groaned its protest of movement when Bucky pulled the hood up, locking it in place with one hand while the other dug into the engine bay. A determined frown pulled his pretty lips at the corner. “The old girl is on her last legs,” he gritted out through clenched teeth while he fiddled and yanked at parts of the engine. “The mounts are close to giving out and it looks like the battery is… well, fucked.”

You sighed, the sound hitching on a frustrated sob. “Can you– Can you call me a cab? I’ll get someone to come tow it in the morning, or something–”

“Fawn,” Bucky said fiercely, and he looked at you while he closed the hood of your traitorous car. “Do you think I’m going to send you home with some stranger when you’re clearly and rightfully upset?”

“But–”

“But fucking nothing, sweetheart,” he insisted, his tone somehow soft — like he cared. “Please, I have a spare bedroom—fuck, I have several, and you are welcome to any one of them until we can get you home tomorrow.”

The use of a curse drove his point home, so did the earnest glare in his eyes. 

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, and you gestured at yourself. “But I haven’t brought clothes– What about Starlet in the morning? She doesn’t know–” She will get the wrong idea; Bucky doesn’t know what she’s said, you silently fretted, but there was no way to give voice to your worries, not in your distress.

“Honey, please, you can use some of my old clothes—they’ll be comfortable, and you’ll be modest. Just let me help you,” Bucky implored. He held a hand out, an offering to guide you back inside. “We can work it all out in the morning. I’m off tomorrow, and hell, Starlet would love having a friend over for breakfast—it’s pancakes and bacon.”

“That does sound pretty good,” you murmured, wringing your hands. The nagging feeling of imposing upon his hospitality would not dissipate, though. “Are you sure? I–”

Bucky shook his head, an exasperated smile on his lips. “C’mere, Fawn,” he said, and he slung his arm over your shoulder. You attempted to clamp your jaw shut around the shocked sound in your throat. “I’m sure. I can’t leave my Fawn high and dry; not when I can help.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, and you allowed Bucky to lead you back into the house and up the stairs towards the bedrooms. 

Without a word, he paused at the top of the stairs and retracted his arm, hanging it by his side as he walked towards a larger, single door — you moved to follow him, but he placed his index finger over his lips, before he disappeared behind it. The house was silent in the absence of Starlet’s giggles and rambling rants of royalty, and you found yourself fidgeting in place while you waited for that door to open again. 

As though he heard you, Bucky opened the door and walked towards you, offering a worn, soft, black henley, and a pair of dark sweats. “Back in my twenties,” he began, smiling down at the offered clothes, “I was twice the size—fucking obsessed with vanity. But these will be comfortable.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking the offered clothes. The movement made your fingers brush against his, and something changed — the air grew thick with crackling energy that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “I– I will, uh, talk to you in the morning?”

Bucky nodded and stepped back; you tried not to whine from the loss of his proximity — luck was not on your side. Something must have shown of your inward pleading in your expression. 

“Fawn?” he asked quietly, tilting his head. “You okay, sweetheart? You look–” He licked his lips, the action drawing your whole attention. “You look lost.”

“I’m fine,” you replied weakly, and you nodded once as though it would make it reality. Truthfully, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole — the late hour naturally stripped you of your inhibitions, and God…

You cursed temptation to the high heavens. 

“You sure?” Bucky asked, and he stepped closer again, his presence looming near enough to make your heart thunder against the confines of your throat. 

“Mhm.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, and stepped forward again — you stepped back, forcing yourself not to melt onto the floor with how your knees shook. “Sweetheart… There’s something you’re not tellin’ me.”

The sudden dryness in your throat made you cough, and your eyes watered with the reflex. Bucky stepped closer and you backtracked until your heels hit the skirting board, your shoulders and back following close behind. “I– Ja– I mean, Bucky–”

His hands moved to either side of your head, effectively trapping you in place. “Yeah?”

Your mouth parted in shock, but nothing came to mind to defend yourself, or any urge to push him away. 

Bucky hummed, tilting his head. “Fawn, you know if this isn’t okay you are more than welcome to knee me where the sun doesn’t shine—but look at you.” The breathy quality of Bucky’s voice made your stomach knot with arousal. 

This was wrong, your mind screamed; this is what you want, your heart shouted.

“You’re desperately fighting against something, I see it; it's in your pretty eyes, baby,” he purred. “Talk to me—tell me what’s wrong, why are you fightin’?”

Bucky’s face loomed closer to yours, his lips parted only slightly, and you prayed for strength as you fisted his shirt, to pull or push him away, you couldn’t decipher — he was so, so close, if only you just reached out–

“What are you fightin’, my little Doe?”

“Oh– Bucky, please–” Thoughts swirled and escaped your grasp, faster than you could claim the words and the will to do the right damned thing. “Please, I– Hmph!”

His lips claimed yours, the softness of them insistent, desperate, and you moaned into his mouth from the rush of adrenaline. “Yes,” you breathed against his lips, and you threw your arms around his neck, forgoing your hold on his clothes. 

The sweetness of Bucky’s lips made you chase them when he tried to pull back; you were starved for more, and he obliged your hunger by pushing you harder into the wall, his hands moving down your shoulders, your sides, to settle on your hips with a bruising grip. 

Bucky’s tongue brushed along your bottom lip, and you moaned again, letting your tongue dance with his; the relief of finally allowing yourself to give into the urge you’d been constraining against was liberating in every manner, even if it were risky, you were determined to make the best of it. 

It was only when he pulled back for breath did you realise he had been pawing at your hip and ass, the fabric bunched in his fists while he panted for air. “Fuck,” he murmured, and he started to laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest through the gasps for air. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that,” you agreed breathlessly. “Fuck.”

The two of you stood in silence, catching your breaths, and you waited for the fall out of it all; the implosion that lurked around the corner. 

“Fawn,” Bucky said quietly, and his index finger brushed along the underside of your chin; grey, inky eyes met yours with such intensity you almost collapsed under the heat of them. “I want you, baby—I wouldn’t have gambled my chances if I didn’t even have a hunch of what was going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“How did–”

“Never you mind, sweetheart. I’ve had my fair few rodeos with this; I can read you like a book.” The soft press of his lips against your forehead made your heart flutter. “Why don’t you get some sleep, hmm? We can talk in the morning—bright eyed and bushy tailed.” His quiet chuckle made your lips quirk up in a smile. “There’s my girl.”

You were unable to form the words to express the inner turmoil that brewed — that had been the best kiss of your life, Bucky liked you back, you hadn’t lost your job as you thought you would, and you were standing in Bucky’s home with an assortment of his clothes to wear while you slept. 

“Fawn, baby,” Bucky teased, and he pulled you away from the wall. His hands rubbed down your arms before he knelt and picked up his discarded clothes, handing them to you with a smile. “Go to bed—you look like you’ve seen a ghost and been given the best news all at once. Get some sleep.”

The bedroom he guided you towards was spacious and just as luxurious as what you had seen of the rest of his home. Light colours filled the room; pastels and darker pops of paint made it contrast in a tasteful way, while the linen and pillows looked divine. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest and a smile on his swollen lips. “If you need anything, sweetheart, I’m just down there,” he said, pointing down the hall, back towards the room with the larger door. “Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.”

You looked at him, blinked, then smiled. “Yeah– Yeah, goodnight, Bucky.”

Relief, elation, fear all flooded you at once as you sidled up the mattress and under the covers. They drowned you beneath the waves of overwhelming thoughts of what would happen now; fear for what your future held. 

Would it include Bucky? What would Starlet think?

It all amounted to the sheer relief that while you hadn’t initiated the risk, it happened, and your courage bound and leaped with joy for it. 

And if you did a little squeal of joy and grinned wide enough to make your cheeks hurt as you tucked yourself into the plush blankets to sleep, it was nobody's business but your own.

the next part is already written. 😉🤭

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #dilf bucky barnes #rookthorne's works #babb2023 #alternate juneiverse #SweetSpicyHearts

[supercap2319]

Y/N struggled against his bonds as he looked up at the men watching him intensely. One was smirking and the other one was frowning. "You know I've seen where this kind of stuff heads in fanfiction and porn. The victim gets all hot and horny with the two villain-daddy type bad guys. Oh, the cliché."

Lloyd Hansen smirks. "Oh, someone has a very interesting fantasy. Maybe you'd like us to make it a reality for you? What do you say, Nicky? Feel like helping him out before we torture him?"

Nick Fowler looks at Y/N and takes a drink of his bourbon before he walks towards him, a lustful and crazy look in his blue eyes as Y/N whimpers with a small smile.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #dark stucky x reader #alternate universe #AU Dark Stucky #stucky x male reader #steve x bucky #steve x bucky x male reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd x nick #nick fowler #Sebastian x chris #chris evans #sebastian stan #marvel mcu #the gray man #the 355

[dysfunctionalmaki]

Say My Name

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter 03/?

Summary: You work all around at the local country club, to your advantage you flirted and used your beauty to get what you want, though with this certain woman your own way can't seem to work.

Warning: This work contains smut and foul language, minors DNI!!

A/N: This update came too long but with the holidays going on, I was occupied but I assure this work could be smooth sailing from now on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

You were nervous, that's the simplest way you can describe what you're feeling, the table by the window was occupied by Wanda who was having her lunch alone, you were too sure that your eyes would always meet with hers whenever you'd look her way. Yelena even noticed the way you're fiddling with the pen you're holding, Bucky had to steal it away from you since he can't stand the constant clicking sound that came from the object. “Well, what the hell are you doing here? Go do your pretty girl things that you always do, Y/N.” Barnes teased and you can't help but roll your eyes.

“What? No! Y/N, you're not pulling that shit with a married woman.” Yelena retorted, trying to play with your conscience until she chuckled. “Just kidding, go do your thing, her husband's an ass.” she snorted which made you laugh nervously, looking around the room you looked eyes with the redhead once more. Slightly raising her hand to get your attention, you went to be at her service after all you’re still her waitress. “What time are you heading out?” She asked casually which made you widen your eyes a little but you looked at your watch. “In four hours… I'm sure you won't push around your salad for that long.” You say which made the older woman smile. “I have some errands to do but I think it'll be nice to tell Yelena that you won't be going home with her.” Wanda says as she took her designer handbag, taking out her purse so she could get her credit card to pay for her meal.

Doing your job, you went to take it and bring it over to the counter. You weren't sure why you're so nervous, you've done this before… you've hooked up with people way shadier than Wanda, in fact… she's probably the most normal one you're about to go after. When they're finished with her card, you went back to Wanda to return the item to her. She smiled as you returned and took back her card, placing it back in her purse before putting on her sunglasses that made her look even hotter considering how well it matched her outfit. “I’ll pick you up, make sure those two keep their mouths shut about us.” she softly says before getting up from her seat, clearly talking about Yelena and Bucky who were basically watching from their stations.

Placing a hand on your forearm, gently squeezing on it and letting go of you almost immediately, then you watched her walk out of the restaurant with such elegance and style, she didn't have to wear the most obvious designer clothing to scream out that she's loaded, the way she carries herself and her aura was enough to tell that she's that kind of person. Getting inside of her luxury car that the valet got for her, that kind of vehicle was enough to tell you that she is surely a powerful woman. Making your way back to your station, the two gave a certain look and you're immediately reminded of what Wanda told you to do. “So… I hope you two can shut your mouth about this.” You say then Bucky shrugged. “I can keep my mouth shut, I don't know about this one.” Barnes teased while using his thumb to point at Yelena who's waiting on the drink he's making. “Just be careful with what you're doing, you're playing with fire here, Y/N.” she warned you, shrugging with what your friend said, you just went on to do your job.

Hours went by and you were exhausted, you've told Yelena that Wanda’s most probably picking you up, and you think that the older woman was… well, ‘man’ of her words. Heading into the restroom so you could freshen up after your shift, finally you've let your hair down, spray on perfume that has worn off hours ago, and finally you clock out. Heading to walk outside the country club, you see the familiar car that has picked you up once. Making your way towards there, you hear someone call your name and it's coming from a car that just pulled up. “Y/N, how are you darling?” The familiar voice called to you which surprised you, Wanda was about to open the door for you from the inside but confused by what made you stop.

“Diana? Hi! How are you home so soon?” You greeted the other woman who just exited her car, Diana wrapped her arms around you the moment she got close to you, you went to look at Wanda’s car and you're sure as hell that she's watching all this happening. “The meeting went well, everything goes to my approval hence why I'm back here early, didn't tell you ‘cause I'm planning to surprise you… seems like I did.” she says as she batted an eye towards the redhead’s car. “Well, yeah- I'm actually surprised.” you say then you looked at Diana before gently pulling away from her arms. “Mhmm, are you coming with me or not?” she asked so casually. Meanwhile, Wanda can't really hear what you and this woman was talking about, though she could sense there's something between you and this stranger but she didn't want to pry much instead she just waited.

“I- I'm afraid I can't, I made a commitment and I really stick by my words… you know that.” you say which made Diana roll her eyes. “Sure, but you know where to find me and you'd have to promise that you're going to make it up to me.” She says which made you bite the inside of your cheek. “Of course, you know I always do.” You say and finally you bid your goodbyes to her, and Wanda unlocked the door for you… now, you awkwardly get inside her car. “She looks familiar.” Wanda commented the moment she finally drove off. “Oh, she's also a member of the club so you probably ran into her a couple of times if you went here back then.” you say while the redhead nod in response.

“So, I'm going to ask the same question that I asked you last night in our texts… You're aware that I am a married woman, right?” she asked then you simply answer with a yes. “You like trouble don't you? The way that woman held you? There's something there isn't it?” she softly chuckled then you took a moment to think what to answer. “Well, it's no secret that Diana and I do go out… completely casual and no strings attached.” you say causing Wanda to raise a brow. “I hope you're not expecting the same thing with me, Y/N.” the redhead softly spoke. “I don't like sharing at all.” she added with the most innocent smile that she could put on.

“But I think you and I both know what I want.” you say honestly and Maximoff looked at you for a moment. “Oh, you're getting straight to it?” she chuckled before biting her lower lip. “Well, this is how it usually is, right? The married woman goes for the girl she wants to experiment with and once it's done… it's done.” you say, causing the older woman to laugh softly. “Marrying a man is more like the experiment.” Wanda scoffed, she went to drive a little longer and finally you both arrived at some motel out of town, well, she probably chose this one so no one could recognize the both of you and especially her.

Getting out of the car, you went after her just tailing behind her, heading into the motel the older woman asked you to do most of the talking so you did, you chose a decent room for the both of you. While you two were in the elevator, you went to move a little closer to Wanda’s side. “It's Diana Prince… I think she works for Wayne's company.” Wanda says all of a sudden. “Yes, that's her. Do you know her?” She shook her head at your question then you nodded yours. “Well, it's probably just I've seen her whenever I have to do some errands when I do business meetings with their company.” she added. “And you're aware that I'm married to a man who's somehow related to Stark too, right?” you nodded your head once more.

The moment the elevator, Wanda went ahead first and you followed after her, though you had to go first eventually since you're the one holding the key card. The moment you two were inside, Wanda went to look around the room for a moment, while you placed your bag on the chair by the desk near the bed. “What do you mean you don't like to share?” you ask her and tracing back to what she said earlier. “If you want to get me and have me, I want you to have me and only me.” Wanda says and she turns to face you. “Come on, I'm sure you're aware how much of a pretty face you are.” she added which made you even more confused.

“You really want me to put it into simpler terms?” Wanda says with a sigh before composing herself, walking closer to you. “I want to be the only one kissing this lips of yours, be the only one who gets to mark you up… take you whenever I want and whenever I need.” the more the redhead talked about her whims for you, you can't help but feel your body warm up. Eventually, you felt her hand resting on your waist. “You're going to have an affair with a powerful woman, Y/N, are you sure you're ready to take the heat?” she asked as she pulled you closer to her, fingers slowly digging into your skin. “I- uh- You mean I have to drop every possible connection that I have?” That was the question you could ask, sure it does sound stupid but your mind stop working when this woman had you under her spell.

“Well, you're quite greedy if you want to keep me around and still have other people, don't you think?” she asked then finally your face was only a couple of inches apart from hers. “I mean… I know I'm a catch, sweetheart.” she confidently says. Unsure of what to say at this point, all you know is that the both of you were staring at each other's lips, you didn't know how it occurred and who made the move first all you know is that the both of you started kissing… It was needy, hot, and desperate. To your surprise, it was Wanda taking the control here, you were always the one in control… they always have the hots for you and not vice versa, but this woman certainly has her way for you.

Eventually, you found yourself going at Wanda’s flow, you could feel the warmth of her tongue against yours, her wet muscle just swirling against yours. You walked backwards, trying to get a feel whether you're near the bed or not and as the back of your leg hit it, you slowly sank to your knees and sat on the mattress. This time your hands were around the older woman's waist, you were trying to take control this time… your hand was hiking up the blouse that she was wearing, yet you were stopped when she held your wrist. “Who said that you could touch?” Wanda purred as she parted her lips from yours just so she could speak. “I've got to have you first before you get me, malysh…” she spoke in her thick sokovian accent that caused butterflies all over your stomach.

“I- uh- I'm yours…” you stuttered which made Wanda chuckle. “We both know you're not there yet, sweetheart.” she says and you know damn well that she's not wrong. “But, we'll get there.” she whispered against your lips, now she crashed her lips against yours once again. The redhead straddles your lap, her lips moving perfectly with yours, you never felt this desperate… desperate for someone's touch, lips, and warmth. “Give me a chance tonight…” you mumbled against her lips which made her smirk. “No, I want you to crave for me… to the point you'll have no choice but to submit yourself to me.” she answered.

For a couple of hours the both of you didn't do anything but make out, and you've never felt so frustrated, neither of you took your clothes off. Here you are facing the mirror by the sink at the mirror, and what's worse? You're alone, the older woman had to leave since she had to be home when her husband unexpectedly came home. Taking your phone from your bag, you went to call someone.

“Hey, I know it's late and you're probably tired but I was wondering… if you can pick me up?” you hear a soft laugh from the other end. “You didn't score? You're not in your game, darling?” Diana teased which made you chuckle. “I guess you can say that.” You went to tell her where the motel was, this woman actually drove this late so she could get to you, she asked what your room number is and not even an hour later she was knocking on your door. “Should have come with me.” she says before leaning instantly for a kiss and you made sure to give her that satisfaction.

Spending the rest of the night with Diana instead of Wanda whom you came here with, lavishing on Prince’s warmth and taste on the same bed where you made out with the redhead you had earlier. You really are playing with fire after all, it's either you burn brighter than the fire you caused or be burnt, and you know you're never one to back out from a challenge.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @reginassweetheart @lvinhs @alexawynters @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #yelena belova #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff #alternate universe #black widow #wanda maximoff x female reader #smut #scarlet witch #diana prince #diana of themyscira #wonder woman #bucky barnes #angst #drama #slow burn #fanfiction #dysfunctionalmaki

[middlingmay]

Soldier!Bucky AU

This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, but:

Bucky was never a pilot before the war. He wanted to join the airforce when the war started, but it stressed Mama Egan TF out so he "settled" for the Army.

He climbs the ranks quickly, still becomes a Major quite young, and is aces at quelling disputes because he can turn anything into a joke (usually with himself as the butt of it, but people aren't arguing when they're laughing together, right? May as well be at him.)

The Brass are well aware of the less than stellar relationship the Army boys have, and as well as "cultural lessons" before they ship out to Britain and the rest of Europe, Bucky finds himself informally appointed as his squad's babysitter.

Which he doesn't like. Because the higher ups have mistaken his charisma for responsibility. Which Bucky hates more than those drab army coats.

Speaking of which, he still has the sheepskin! He won it off an airman at a card game, and refuses to wear anything else. He's gotten in trouble for this many times, but his superior officer more or less gave up after he used it to get his guys out of some trouble.

With the RAF. Who, yep, he still hates. Because he admires the fuck out of the US Airforce.

So the RAF are insulting some US soldiers in a pub, but pretending they're not. But Bucky notices the worst culprit is a lieutenant. And a fight is brewing because his guys are bored, and spats have been breaking out for weeks now, and his CO genuinely might shoot them all if there's another issue.

So he swaggers up to the RAF lieutenant, introduces himself as Major Egan (which tips his boys off to the fact he's up to something, because Bucky never pulls rank unless some shit is going down).

But he's still an American, so the RAF Lieutenant isn't entirely swayed, until he turns around to face Bucky (because of course he just walked on up behind the boy and he knows he's "a big lad" as that farmer's wife called him, and he enjoys taking people by surprise). RAF Lieutenant is face-to-neck with Bucky who's grinning down at him, and his fellow Brits mutter "No worries, Sir," and that's that.

Towards the end of the war, he's in Europe. Has been there for some time. Got separated from his men and captured by the Germans and still ran through the forest starving and afraid, and almost killed a kid, and faced down a blood thirsty mob and escaped from a pile of dead bodies with brain on his cheek - but he still considers himself lucky. Because he got away and rejoined his men.

And they're looking for POWs - their own and allied men. They've heard about the stalags and the camps and the death marches, and they're doing their bit not to lose a single man. And Bucky, who knows what it's like to be afraid and alone and close to death out here, is zealous about that mission.

They're about a day away from the Danube, when two men stumble upon their unit at night, frozen, shaking, barely able to keep to their feet.

Airmen.

American Airmen.

Bucky barks out orders and opens his canteen and holds it up to the man nearest him. Hair that might have been blonde. Blue eyes - like the song. And he had no idea then and there that he'd just met Gale Cleven, who was going to talk Bucky into doing something very risky and very stupid to save a column full of allied airmen - just because he looked him in the eyes and said softly, "Please, Major. I just left them alone - help me save my men."

It was the first of many, many dumbass things he would do in the name of Gale Cleven.

#mota #gale cleven #john egan #headcanon #alternate universe #soldier!bucky #buck x bucky