starker: gang leader!tony x sweetheart!peter
warnings: daddy kink
“What?”
Bucky swallows and tries to stop his hand from shaking. His calloused fingers graze over the button next to 5A, the label yellowed and the corners peeling off.
“Hey, it’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” He manages to croak, making a mental note to buy a water bottle to carry around.
“You can head up.” The smooth voice says from the old speaker. The thing clicks off, leaving Bucky standing in the musty lobby of the apartment building. He eyes the stairs, rusted railings coming loose and green carpet missing in places.
It’s now or never.
Bucky climbs the stairs, to the A level, walking down the rickety hallway to apartment 5A. The disgusting yellow light flickers above him. Bucky raises his arm and knocks on the door.
The door swings open immediately, revealing a very unimpressed pale boy.
“Get inside.” He grunts, turning on his heel. Bucky follows him into the apartment, breath catching in his throat.
This doesn’t seem like a gang leader’s apartment.
Even though the white paint on the walls is chipping and the floor is a weird shade of brown, the decor makes the place look way more expensive than it actually is.
Bucky can tell that he apartment is decorated to have a beach house theme. There’s a few people sprawled out on the light teal couch, white blankets and knit pillows thrown about. There’s beer bottles on the light wash coffee table next to the vase of flowers.
And it smells like cookies.
“Bucky.”
The conversation in the room ceases. Bucky notices that the pouty boy has perched himself between the legs of a burly, long haired blonde.
“Hi, Tony.” Bucky tries to say confidently, eyeing the man who’s relaxed on the couch, beer in hand. He exudes confidence, legs spread with a smirk on his tan face.
“We’ve been waiting for you. Come, have a seat.”
Before Bucky can move, a squeal comes from the kitchen.
“Cookies are done!”
Bucky can feel the energy change in the room to pure adoration.
A dazzling young man stands in the archway with two plates of cookies. His cheeks are flushed and his Kiss the Cook apron (which Bucky would gladly do) is smeared with chocolate. He’s barefoot and in pajamas, which is so at home it scares Bucky.
Just a little.
The boy shuffles over to the coffee table and places the blue plates down.
“Thank you, Peter!” The blonde roars, and Peter leans down, earning a wet kiss on the cheek.
“Daddy,” He purrs, (Bucky shouldn’t be aroused), “You have to try some!”
Peter scrambles over to Tony, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie off of the plate. He climbs onto the gang leader’s lap, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Too many carbs for me, sweetheart.” Tony grumbles, eyes softening. Peter pouts, rubbing the cookie against Tony’s closed lips. He reluctantly opens his mouth, taking a bite of the sweet treat.
“Did you like it, daddy?”
Bucky is going to lose it.
