#young bucky

[thepiper0fhameln]

Inktober 1 Off to a slow start, but a start.

[weezey-1]

Time travel AU

Which is it, Bucky ends up back in time right before the war or during it, before the winter soldier, and has to deal with seeing his family again and trying to keep his old-young self safe from hydra, while also trying not to break anyone’s spirit by explaining the truth about his life, or young Bucky ends up in the future and has to deal with the truth about his future and just the modern era in general? I don’t know because I would love to see both, I would like to know how it would go. Also maybe add Steve in there too, I’d like to see what his scrawny ass would think of his jacked self.

This should be what the What If? episodes are about, not whatever obsession they have with Captain Carter and random ass scenarios that literally no one thought about.

[rainbowsprinkledpirate]

It's Called Swing 🎶

AN: Here you go, the New Years' thing. *laughs at being very late*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male!Reader

Summary: Bucky had to learn how to dance somewhere. That somewhere was with you. Yes, you taught the James Buchanan Barnes how to dance. On New Year's Eve, no less.

I hadn’t planned to start dancing. But at that moment, my feet had a mind of their own.

I stepped familiar steps over and over, twisting to the music.

It felt odd.

Then again, dancing swing by yourself probably would feel that way considering it required a partner.

A partner, right.

Like I’d ever be able to get one of those.

“What are you doing?” I tripped over my own feet, heat crawling up my neck.

A million thoughts ran through my head. But the one that stood out the most was how embarrassing it was to be caught by James. The last thing I expected was to hear from him at that moment. Steve said they’d stop by later.

Was it already four?

“Well…” I managed to stutter out.

It was hard to face him alone. Especially ever since I decided I liked him as more than a friend.

After all, we were still figuring ourselves out, being nothing but awkward prepubescent kids. I knew James was struggling, unable to shake the chubby cheeks and childlike curves.

I found it endearing, but he hated it.

James peered at me from beneath his messy hair. I fiddle with the hem of my too-big shirt. It was unnerving to have him looking at me, waiting for me to tell him what I was doing. Although, I had a feeling he already knew.

“I was dancing.” The words tumble from me as I look over at the radio.

The upbeat rhythm of Teddy Wilson and his orchestra playing their song Exactly Like You flowed through the speaker. Honestly, they were a great band that deserved more recognition.

James turned to eye the radio before he glanced back at me.

“Dancing,” he muttered to himself. “What’s it called? They have names for certain dances, right? Like the one you were doing.”

I nod, somewhat absentmindedly.

James was going to spare me from his laughter. Why? Usually, he would have heartily laughed at catching me doing something weird. But it seemed he was in an odd mood today.

“Yeah, the one I was doing is called swing. Particularly the East Coast Swing.” I was babbling at the moment. Yet I couldn’t find it in me to care. “It probably looks better done with a partner.”

James stepped closer, his eyes lowering to the floor. I trail off when I catch him staring.

His eyes were hard as he burned holes into my feet. I recognized the look in them. The steel of determination.

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to describe that look. But it seemed right to me.

“Teach me.”

I knew he’d say that. But for me? To teach him? No, no way. I was literally tripping over my own feet a second ago. There’s not a chance I can teach someone else to dance.

“Come on. You might as well since Steve isn’t coming today.”

Well, dang. There’s no talking my way out of this one.

- XX Hours Later -

A dull ache throbbed across the top of my feet as I bit back a sigh. James was good at a lot of things. But dancing didn't seem to be one of them.

"Sorry…" James heaved a sigh of his own. It seemed I wasn’t the only one getting frustrated. Then again, we had been at this for a good while now.

His heel slammed down on my foot again, and I raised a hand.

"Let's take a break." I knew he wouldn't stop until he had the steps down. So, I had to force him to.

"James," I decided to tell him what he was doing wrong besides trying to guide him through the steps manually. "You're too stiff."

At my words, he seemed to stiffen even more. Which only further hit my point home. To dance, you had to let your body go with the flow. If you were stiff and didn't let your body relax, it was awkward to move freely.

“Well, I’m not the only one.” At his casual quip, I look to the side.

I was stiff because of James’ hand in mine. Holding the hand of the boy I had a crush on was not something I expected to do so soon. Or ever, for that matter.

Yet Swing required the partners to hold hands. To help them keep in step with one another.

“Right… Maybe we should try again tomorrow. Since I’m not faring any better.” That’s what I said. But really, I wanted to keep dancing with James until he got the moves down and I got used to his hand in mine. He reluctantly nodded, and we left for hot dogs like usual.

We spent the rest of our day wandering around town and saying whatever came to mind. While tomorrow never came for our dance lessons. And James never brought up the subject even when me, him, and Steve hung out at our usual spots.

After a while, I gave up on the idea of getting to hold his hand again. That was until he asked me to come over to help him practice. I tried not to think too much of it.

James was known for being headstrong, and he would practice ‘till he got whatever it was down. But to think he’d wait days later to ask me to practice with him again was a bit confusing.

I shake the thoughts from my head when James parent’s house comes into view.

It had always been a quaint little place. Somewhere I could run to and hide when I didn’t feel like being at home. A place where James’ youngest sister would soothe me by playing with my hair. Or where I could play games with her and James and forget about my problems.

Yeah, I love this house.

Trodding up the porch steps, I raise a hand to knock. Before I can even touch the door it flings open and a small bundle of pink flies into me.

“Y/n! It’s been forever since you came over!” Small hands tug on mine as the little girl bounced up and down.

“Hey, Becca. Sorry I haven’t been over in a while.” Because I’ve grown a crush on your brother.

That would sound great to add. If it didn’t come with the image of me beaten black and blue by her father that was. Honestly, she would probably be alright with it. But there’s no way I’m going to tell her.

“It’s okay. Come on! Come on! Jimmy has been waiting all day for you. He promised we would play after you two talked. So hurry up!” She tugs on me again and I allowed her to drag me into the house.

Trailing after the lively little blonde, I couldn’t help the fond smile I felt slipping across my lips. She always managed to make me relax.

The smell of fresh blueberry pie tickled my nose as I was dragged past the kitchen. I barely manage to call out a hello to Mrs. Barnes with Becca fiercely pulling me. Luckily she heard me and laughed softly, sending a warm greeting after us. I would always hold a soft spot in my heart for the lady.

When we reached James' room Becca shoved me in. She raced off afterward, yelling at us to hurry up so we could play with her. Which left me chuckling as I turned to James.

I didn't pay much attention to his room, having already learned the interior like the back of my hand. But the one thing that caught my eye was the dusty old radio sitting on top of his desk. That was new.

"Hey, Y/n. There's something I want to show you." James shuffled over to the radio. He fiddled with the knobs for a second before it crackled to life.

The cheerful melody of a trumpet fluttered into the room and warmth flooded my chest at the sound of Louis Armstrong and His Hot Five playing Fireworks. Ever since I had heard Louis play, I haven’t been able to look back since.

James squared his shoulders before turning back to me. I raised a brow as he stuck his hand out. What was he planning?

“Hurry up.” He grabbed my hand to pull me closer to him. When he started the first step for Swing, I found myself following suit. The warmth in my chest spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes when I realized James had gotten all of the steps down perfectly.

Eventually, we ended up just throwing out random moves. Becca joined us for a bit before she was put to bed. Afterward, we continued to easily spin around each other.

Laughter bubbled up from my throat when I caught sight of the smirk on James’ face. This prick knew what he was doing when he asked me to come over today to “practice”. He was showing off.

“Real funny, wiseguy. You’ve got the moves down perfectly for Swing.” The smirk melted into a sheepish smile as he shrugged.

“Yeah, well. I figured-” A loud boom cut James off as a splash of color from outside lit up the inside of his room. Red, white, and blue danced across his face as he looked out his window.

It seemed we had danced the night away.

“Oh… Happy New Years, James!” He looked at me aghast. We had both forgotten that today was even a holiday.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.” I grin before turning to stare out the window.

More fireworks go off in the distance, lighting up the room again as James began to move. He tugged on the hem of my shirt before twirling around as he began to move to the music again. His energy never seemed to end.

The steps looked like they matched that of Swing, but there was an added James' flare to it now.

“What’s that called?” I was teasing him now, but with the roar of fireworks in the distance and the crooning voice of Franklyn Baur singing for Roger Wolfe Kahn and his Orchestra flowing through the air, it felt right.

“Y/n,” James shot me one of the dirtiest looks. “It’s called Swing.” We stared at each other. He kept holding that look of disgust while I tried to match him with a more serious one.

That face made him look constipated. I snorted after a bit, the snicker slipping loose as I told him my thoughts exactly.

James rolled his eyes, joining in with a rather sarcastic snort of his own. We both ended up losing our cool after a while and started laughing so hard our sides hurt. Steve was definitely going to hear the story of James and his Swing escapades. Especially since it involved that hideous face he made just now. We could use it as leverage against him someday.

AN: If anyone is interested in the songs that have inspired me when writing these Bucky x Reader chapters here you go.

Patti Page Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Louis Armstrong and His Hot Five Fireworks

Roger Wolfe Kahn with Franklyn Baur as vocals Crazy Rhythm

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[tony-luvv]

For Prince Anthony

Prompt: Steve/Bucky/Tony, Prince!Tony helped out Steve or Bucky and that’s how it starts? Take it wherever you want to (with a happy ending tho).

Just to give you an idea, Tony is 19 and Steve and Bucky are 13. Also this is Part 1.

On Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

Enjoy :)

He was just trying to get some fresh air when he stumbled onto the scene in the market. Guards of the Kingdom were gathered around, squabbling with some boys. There was a young, blonde boy being held back by some burly guards, fighting with all of his might, though he couldn’t have been more than 90 lbs. The cause of his distress had to be the long-haired, brunette boy. He was considerably bigger than the blonde, but had nothing on the bulk of the Kingdom guards. Three guards held down the struggling brunette while one guard, who looked suspiciously like Jenkins, was giving a speech to the large crowd.

“Let this boy be a lesson to all!” That was most certainly Jenkins. The man was known for abusing his power and Tony could barely tolerate him on a good day. Today was most definitely not a good one. By this point, Jenkins had pulled his sword out and was making a show of readying to chop off the hand of the brown-haired boy. The onlookers were shocked, but none made moves to help, that is except for his blonde friend that was fighting with everything he had and then some. To think he only wanted to take a peaceful walk today to escape his hellish life.

Stepping forward he dropped his cloak and stepped passed the surprised guards maintaining the crowd perimeter.

Jenkins’ arms were stretched above his head, completely prepared to dismember a poor, street rat, his helpless blonde friend screeching in horror just as Tony stepped forth. 

“Commander Jenkins, put down your sword!” His voice was steel, daring any to defy him. It startled Jenkins enough to scramble back a few steps and lower his sword.

“Pr-Prince Anthony, what are you doing here?” he said nervously. He and the empty-handed guards immediately fell into a parade rest.

Tony wanted to sigh, as he really didn’t have the energy to deal with this today, but he couldn’t stand back while his unruly guards harassed his subjects. So he straightened his back the slightest amount and glared down at the soldier. 

“I’d like to ask you the same thing, Commander. Harassing my subjects? I don’t think I like what I see.”

“B-But your highness, these boys were caught stealing from the market!”

“That’s all?” Jenkins spluttered to say more but Tony stopped him with a cold hard stare.

“As you said, these boys, who look to be nothing more than street rats, attempted to steal food. Haven’t they suffered enough? You want to punish him furthermore for being stuck in a situation he never asked for? By permanently removing his hand? How would he ever find honest work? Do you think your judgement is fair, Jenkins?” 

His commander looked outright humiliated, so Tony turned his attention towards the two boys still being gripped by the guards. 

“Release them.” 

The younger men scrambled back under his glare. Once the blonde was released, he rushed forward to clutch his friend who collapsed to the ground, trembling with relief.

Tony stood over the two boys for a moment as the guards and onlooking towns people idled around. That wouldn’t do. Turning around he pointed at the two guards that were the first to see him when he arrived.

“You two may stay with me. As for the rest of you, get back to work!”

The remaining guards went into salute. “Sir, yes sir!” chorused around him before the guards scrambled to disperse the crowd and return to their rounds. From the corner of his eyes he could see the commander lingering, “Jenkins.” Said man stepped forward. “Report to my office later this evening. Understood?”

Jenkins clearly wasn’t happy with this order but still bowed his head, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Once the commander was gone, Tony turned to the two boys still huddled on the ground next to him. The brunette wasn’t really shaking anymore but his gaze was solely fixed on the ground, his left hand that he nearly lost cradled close to his chest. The blonde mostly just held his friend, looking at him with concern while sneaking glances up at Tony when he thought he wasn’t paying attention.

“What are your names?” Tony demanded.

The small blonde looked up at him with ocean blue eyes and answered with a strong voice, “Steve Rogers, sir. This is Bucky,”he said gesturing to his friend. The corner of his mouth ticked up the slightest bit, but otherwise remained neutral.

“’Bucky’ is not a name and I’m sure your friend can speak for himself.” Steve looked ready to argue this point, but a firm squeeze of his hand from his friend silenced him immediately.

“James…my name is James Barnes, sir.” By the time he announced his full name, young James had lifted his head to look him in the eye. Such striking blue eyes from two young boys. Steve had soft blue eyes like a summer sky, but had fight in them like a summer storm. James’ eyes, on the other hand, were like Winter, cold and silent but hiding secrets in every corner. How interesting.

“Very well, Steve, James.. Come with me.”

He didn’t watch as Steve staggered behind him. Instead, he turned to the two guards who stood just beyond his back. Silently, he gestured for them to follow with the boys, but made sure they were to do nothing more with a stern glare.

“Where are we going?” James quickly elbowed Steve for speaking out to him, but otherwise remained silent. How interesting indeed.

“You’ll see.”

-

Obediently, the little group followed the prince across town towards a smaller building away from the ports and residential housing. It was obvious the boys didn’t know where they were because they didn’t react the entire time they approached the lesser known jail. Upon arrival, Anthony greeted the supervisor, Edison, before turning back to his followers.

“Guards, please escort these boys to a cell.”

The guards jumped to action immediately. Steve, the spit fire that Tony quickly knew him to be didn’t disappoint. He wiggled in attempt to fight off the guard while throwing questions at Tony. “What’s going on? Why are we being put in jail? Didn’t you save us? We didn’t do anything wrong!” James on the other hand remained passive, seeming to come to terms with his fate.

One of Edison’s men escorted his guards and their chargers to a cell while Tony stayed behind to speak with the elder man. He dipped his head, “Edison.”

Charles Edison bowed before straightening into a parade rest, “Prince Anthony, always a pleasure to see you.” Charles was a fair man that Tony has always favored.

“Likewise, old timer. Could you make sure these boys get a decent meal tonight before lights out? I’ll be back for them in the morning.”

“Of course, your highness.” Edison’s smile couldn’t be missed, but Tony didn’t have time to get into a squabble with the other man. He still had to deal with Jenkins later…and his father.

Entering the jail, he walked right up to the cell holding the boys. They must have had words because Steve was towards the back, clearly pouting while James stood before him. He was shorter by just a few inches, Steve being a whole head shorter but they both tried so hard to stand tall before him.

“I don’t understand, your highness. Why are we being locked up?”

“You did attempt to steal from the market, did you not?” At this both boys seemed to slump in defeat because, yes, that is exactly what started this whole mess. “While Jenkins’ idea of a punishment is cruel and uncalled for, a crime is still a crime. Tonight, you will remain here, but tomorrow is a new day. Have a good night, boys.”

With that, Tony left, his two guards following closely behind. He waved to Edison on his way out and made his way back.

Once back at the castle, he made sure to slip passed his father’s view and the guards before making his way to his office. He had an appointment with a commander.

Jenkins was there waiting for him when he arrived outside the door. “Come inside, Commander.” The soldier followed him in without a word and sat down before his desk. Tony started immediately, “Tell me, Commander, why did I come across such extreme actions today?”

“Sir, those boys have been nothing but a menace! This is not the first time I’ve caught them stealing from the market and the merchants are growing quite frustrated. They need to be taught a lesson they’ll never forget.”

“So you cut away the hand that steals and make a show of it in the town center?”

“…Yes.” Jenkins did not look him in the eye, but his fists were clenched, still holding onto his conviction.

“You find this a fair trade when you too came from the street and stole to survive?” 

At this remark, Jenkins’ head popped up to stare at his leader in shock. Obviously the man didn’t think the young prince would know his story. “Your parents were killed while you were young, leaving you with a younger sister to care for. For years, you stole food and whatever else you needed to in order to keep you and your sister alive. I understand years ago you too were put into a situation like today’s. Ten lashes on the back in the market to make an example.”

At this, Tony paused to gaze at the man before him. He didn’t act like it, but once upon a time, Jenkins was one of those boys. It seems like he tried to forget it, tried to bury a part of his past so that he could become the man he is today. Like many things in his life, Tony was going to make sure he broke that cycle. 

“But even after what you were put through, you joined the guard and made an honest living to take care of your sister.”

He could see the man’s composure cracking, “Jenkins, you are not a cruel man. I’d give anything to go back and prevent some of the things that happened to you in your youth. But I can’t. There’s only tomorrow.” 

He let Jenkins sit there and reflect for a moment. He knew how easy it was to play certain roles, but it didn’t mean we should. Thankfully, it looked like Jenkins was starting to see that too.

“I understand, sir. I’d like to apologize for my actions.”

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing too.”

Jenkins looked at him before bowing his head again, “You’re right. Thank you, your highness.”

Tony cracked a small smile, “Have a good night, Commander.”

The soldier rose from his seat and bowed, “You too, sir.”

As soon as the man was well and gone, Tony collapsed back into his seat. If only every issue could work itself out as easily as that one. Tony could only dream.

Moments later, a knock came at his door. Tony let his cold exterior come over him once more before calling whomever was at the door to come in. His most beloved royal helper, Edwin Jarvis, stepped in the room.

“Master Anthony, King Howard is asking for you.” He could hear the regret in his caretaker’s voice but there was little the elderly man could do. Howard is the king, after all.

“Very well. I’ll be with him shortly. Thank you, Jarvis.”

“Of course, master Anthony.” Jarvis quickly made himself scarce, he knew how much Tony hated him seeing the young prince like this. Tony sighed, briefly thinking back to when he did so earlier in the market. If he had more time to think about it, he’d realize it was becoming a new practice of his. Instead, he rose from his desk and left the office. It was going to be a long night.

-

The next morning, Tony ventured out to collect the boys from Edison’s with his preferred guards, Rhodes and Wilson.

When Tony reached the cell, Steve was still asleep on the cot while James stood in front of him. His body language was tense, as if he was anticipating a fight, but he was clearly confused to see Tony again.

“You’re back.” It was a little unclear whether James was saying it as a statement or asking a question, but Tony answered him anyway.

“I am. Wake Steven. We’re leaving.” He didn’t give James a chance to ask any questions, just left the room and made his way back outside to the horses they rode in on.

-

Bucky watched Prince Anthony walk away, a hundred questions running through his mind. It was the strangest thing. Prince Anthony was very intimidating for being so young, but Bucky didn’t feel threatened by the man. If anything, he felt safe when the prince was near. Ever since the prince saved him in the market yesterday, none of his usual instinctive warning bells has gone off. His gut was pretty good at keeping him and Stevie alive, and so far, nothing had put him off concerning the prince.

Steve, on the other hand, was still bull-headed. For as long as Bucky could remember, Steve was a “punch first, ask questions later” kind of guy. So when the prince threw them in jail, Steve could only see the prince as another enemy. Bucky couldn’t help but think his dear friend was very far off.

After waking his friend, two new guards escorted them outside where Prince Anthony was talking with Mr. Edison.

“They didn’t give you too much trouble, did they?”

“Not at all, some of the best prisoners I’ve ever had to house.” Prince Anthony smiled but it seemed off. In fact, now that Bucky was looking, the prince seemed very stiff, almost as if he was in pain. His back was tight with tension, and for such a warm summer day, he wore thick long sleeves. What would a prince be doing that would leave him in pain? Surely his trainers would go easy on him and if it was sparing, why would he hide his wounds?

At some point, the prince noticed him staring and moved closer. “Well boys, we’ve got some travelling ahead of us. Rhodes and Wilson here will help you onto their horses.”

Prince Anthony turned to his horse, stroking it’s white mane, while the two dark skinned guards showed them to their tanned horses. Steve, as always, had something to say, “Horses? Where are we going that requires horses?”

The prince smirked, “You ask a lot of questions, little Steven. I’m sure Wilson can answer some of them.” Obviously Steve didn’t like this answer but for once, he was smart enough not to push the subject. Instead, he turned to this Wilson guy and started questioning him.

“Where are we going?”

“His highness did not say.”

“You’re not going to be helpful at all, are you?”

Wilson chuckled, “Probably not.”

While Wilson worked on getting Steve on his horse, he approached the prince. The other guard, who he assumed was Rhodes, tried to grab his arm and drag him away, but Bucky stood still. Of course, prince Anthony noticed and put up a hand to have Rhodes wait. “What is it, James?”

“Can I ride with you?”

“Absolutely not.” Rhodes grabbed his arm again but was stopped once more.

“It’s fine, Rhodey, he can ride with me. Help him onto my horse, would you?” Rhodes clearly didn’t like this, but did as the prince asked, with a bit of grumbling. Once he was settled, the prince climbed on behind him.

It was strange, he’d never been on a horse before and now he was sitting on one with Prince Anthony sitting behind him. A surprisingly strong chest against his back and even stronger arms wrapped loosely around him, holding onto the reins. It wasn’t long before Bucky found himself getting comfortable and leaning into the slightly older man. The prince didn’t say or do anything when he did. If anything, he relaxed a bit himself.

“Your highness, sir?” He bounced on Prince Anthony’s chest when he chuckled under his breath.

“Yes, James?”

“Are you taking us to another jail?”

“No, James. I think you’ve been punished enough in life. Don’t you think?”

James was quick to grab his left wrist as he recalled yesterday’s traumatizing events. “Yeah…”

Prince Anthony didn’t say anything else, so James didn’t either. While he could, he enjoyed himself. Soaking up the warmth of the prince, listening with half an ear to Steve’s insistent questions to an amused Wilson, but mostly just the nature around them. If he had to go through a million more hardships to end up in this moment in time with the prince, he’d probably do so willingly.

Sadly, he was only able to hold that peace for another hour. When he opened his eyes, (wait, when did that happen?) it was to see a modest sized house surrounded by farmland. He’s not sure if the man was expecting them or heard them trotting up, but an average sized fellow came outside to greet them. He waited patiently as everyone dismounted the horses before greeting them.

“Your Highness, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Happy,” the prince approached the man with a hand on James’ and Steve’s shoulders, “This is Steven and James. Starting today, they’ll be your new help on the farm.”

“What?!” Of course Steve was the loudest to react, while the rest of the adults merely raised an eyebrow in question. James could only stare up at the prince.

“These boys have been given a shorthand in life and are in need of something better. We’ll start simple, a place to stay and some honest work.” It seemed the adults were able to have a silent conversation above them while Steve stuttered through another round of questions. Prince Anthony’s hands fell from their shoulders as he reached for a sack from his guard, Rhodes, which he passed on to Happy. “Compensation for the boys until they are able to earn their keep.”

Happy didn’t even try to fight against the prince’s demands. He merely accepted the sack of coins with a grunt and a few mumbled words about having a soft spot for bratty princes. Prince Anthony laughed off the older man before turning his attention back to them. “Well boys, these don’t come often, but here’s your second chance. Use it wisely.”

[yiuliel]

Till the end of the line pal

The two pieces I did for the Stuckyzine on twitter ♥ My twitter

[emrysdrawsshit]

james buchanan “i’ve never gotten enough sleep in my life and i’m not about to start now” barnes

[poses frm here]

[geminimoonbeamx]

Sugar Rush: Part One

A/N: So I’ve kind of been dying to write any kind of Sub!Sebastian story for ages. Just because I’m obsessed with reading Stucky stories(porn) and more often then not he’s a bottom and I live for that shit. So I thought I’d try my hand at writing some real kinky shit. Also if you guys haven’t read Suga Mama by Emotchalla, please fucking do. Her story along with the massive amount of Sugar baby Stucky fics are why this idea has seeded itself into my brain and wont go away.

Also- I don’t have time to be writing another 25 chapter story lol. So this fic is going to be paced kind of fast, and at some points be one shots that are barley connected. Kind of just a way to get out my fantasies- no novels here.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: As with all of my stories there’s a permanent warning of cursing. I have a mouth like a sailor and express myself through the word fuck.

Summary: Bucky is a College student in his early twenties who seems to be drowning in the struggle of adulthood. When he meets Y/N, a well off Magazine CEO and gets the proposition of a lifetime, he takes on a title he never even could have imagined. Sugar Baby.

Bucky Barnes was no stranger to hard work. To the struggles of life.

He, along with his little sister Rebecca, had been in and out of the system up until he was nine; group homes and foster care were things that he was familiarized with at a young age. But so were heroine needles and that look that junkies get in there eye when the were high- he’d take sleeping in a clean bed in orphanage over listening to his mother tweak in the next room any day. He’d been adopted by George and Winifred Barnes two months shy of his tenth birthday, and they were the best people he’d ever met. Kind, and loving. He truly believes that they were heaven sent(if you tasted Winnie Barnes’ country fried steak, you’d think the same) but it’s not as though his life was suddenly a cake walk. He grew up the eldest of five- four younger sisters.

Yeah, if that sounds a little hellish, that’s because it was. He loved those little brats with all his heart, but damn, had they forced him into the “mature older brother” role.

He’d done well in High School- both athletically and academically. Played Varsity baseball and stayed on the honor roll all four years. Was it hard? Balancing the two along with his flourishing social life(because everyone love Bucky, that’s just how it went)? Yeah, maybe. But he did it.

…The hardest, most unexpected endeavor that he’d ever have to face came when he was eighteen- the car accident. The one that had left him mangled and broken. So fucked up- no one ever knew if he’d be able to recover-

But guess what? He had.

He liked to think his best personality trait was resilience. Throw anything at him. Any-fucking-thing. And he’d endure it, and bounce back.

But being a college student, living in New York City? Now this was some rough shit. If he wasn’t working at one of his two jobs, the ones that barley covered his rent, phone bill and tuition payments- he was in school. Studying his ass off, desperately attempting to get his degree. He barley had money for food most of the time. Thank fuck that he and his roomates had a “grocery jar” that they all contributed too- or else he surely would have starved. His diet consisted mostly of frozen foods and PBJ’s

He was living that early twenties struggle. The one that he knew everyone had to go through- to build character and all that. But fuck, was it killing him.

He was running on fumes, which wasn’t out of the norm, but still was starting to take it’s toll as he shook a bag of Cheddar Ruffles into his mouth. Breakfast of champions. He was listening to his roomates as he clambered around the kitchen, only having five or so minutes to spare before he had to go catch the subway and get to school.

It was a discussion they’d been stressing over heavily as of late.

Steve had moved out a month prior, finally taking the next step with his long time boyfriend, Sam- and Bucky was happy for him.

“Finally, punk” He’d grinned and slapped the back of his friends head. would he miss him? Yeah, he would. Bucky had a lot of friends- but Steve was his best friend. His first friend. But times changed, and they were getting older and Steve still lived in Brooklyn, so there really wasn’t nothing to spill tears over.

Except for the fact that now, they had to figure out how to cover that missing gap of rent.

There was still him, Scott and Clint- and now he had his own room(which he’d won fair and square in an arm wrestle, thank you very fuckin’ much) but making the nearly two thousand dollar rent payment every month was going to be harder. And it had them all on edge.

“I’ll pick up some more shifts at the café” Bucky deducts, chugging down the rest of his coffee.

“And how are you gonna’ do that? And go to school? What are you gonna’ do? Astral Project?” Clint gave him a dead pan look and Bucky shrugged. He’d do what he had to.

“How fucking cool would that be though? If you could really, you know, like astral project…why are you guys looking at me like that?” Scott ended his sentence defensively as both Bucky and Clint stared at him pointedly. Bucky with a hint of amusement, and Clint with his arms folded across his chest.

Scott was most definitely the child of the group. The one that you found passed out in the bushes at parties…which was why when they’d found out his ex girlfriend was pregnant a few years ago- they’d all, to be frankly honest, had been fucking terrified for him. He was actually a pretty decent father though. His daughter spent one weekend a month with them, and Bucky thought she was just about the cutest thing ever.

“Can you take this seriously for a second, man” Clint stressed and Bucky just sighed and grabbed his back pack. He really couldn’t handle anymore stress at the moment and he was kind of happy he had to be at his 9 o'clock lecture. At least he could escape this conversation.

“It’ll be fine, okay guys? We’ll figure it out. Don’t stress it so bad” He soothes as he walks past them, giving them each a pat on the shoulder.

“We’re going to have to become strippers! You do realize that, right?” Clint calls to him as he’s half way out of the door and he chuckles.

“Well I do have the ass for it” is Bucky’s parting statement.

The trek across the city, to NYU was as it always was. He spent it on the subway, his head phones blaring in his ears as he went over his homework and got a little more studying in, even though his eyes kept crossing from exhaustion.

He really was considering Clint’s suggestion- stripping didn’t sound so bad right now. If not for his scarred up arm, he probably would have done it ages ago. Because Bucky wasn’t a judgmental prick, and he considered strippers and sex workers as just that- workers. People trying to get by. He didn’t really care how people got their money.

He rushed across campus and managed to make it to his Poly Sci class not only on time, but early. He knew it’d earn him some brownie points with Professor Xavier. He was unpacking his laptop- which was horribly outdated, and his text books when you walked in. He’d been looking up at someone passing by his desk when he’d first laid eyes on you. It wasn’t the way you looked, although he cant deny, you looked damn good. With your sleek black pant suit that clings to your curves(and you’re nothing but curves) and bag hanging on your arm. Your makeup done impeccably and your hair shiny- you looked expensive. Well manicured. You looked like money.

No; it was more the way you carried yourself. The confidence in your strut. The way that you held your chin high, and not in a douche arrogant way…but more in an elegant self assured way. He cant help but watch you, the way that you smile brightly and give Professor X a warm hand shake, squeezing his with both of yours. When you’re introduced to the class as the guest speaker the professor had invited, Bucky grins.

“This is Y/N Y/L/N, a former pupil of mine. Former writer for the New York Post and current Editor and Chief of S.H.I.E.L.D Magazine”

Ahh, so you didn’t just look like money. You were made of it.

S.H.I.E.L.D was a global Magazine- a household name. One that covered most everything; entertainment. Fashion. Politics. He found himself flipping through one almost every day at work.

Listening to your speech was almost hypnotic. You were humble, and yet commanded the room. He learned that at the ripe age of 32, you were the magazines youngest ever Editor and that you’d worked tooth and nail to get there. You talked about the importance of public relations, and knowing what was going on in the world- no matter what subject one might go into. Covered the best ways to get into any business-

“Persistence!” You’d encouraged with a smile “I mean excuse my French, but annoy the shit out of them! Make yourselves memorable. Don’t be afraid to break away from the norm, because the most special parts of you- the ones that will get you places- are buried under your insecurities”

It was honestly one of the most interesting, engaging classes Bucky had ever sat in. You gave real tips, talked about real life in a way that was so blunt; it was refreshing. At the end, right before you were set to end your discussion, you took questions.

You were answering a girl who sat next to his question about you’re travels while writing when you catch him staring at you.

It’s a hot gaze. A heavy one. His gunpowder eyes seem to…look deep into you. Set you alight from the inside out. When you meet the gaze, boldly meeting his eyes its like…

Fuck.

It’s like nothing Bucky has ever experienced. He wants to crawl out of his skin, wants to crawl to you. Wants to taste what that gaze promises. It feels like it lasts an eternity, but really its only a few fleeting moments, before you break the stare. He feels like something inside of him breaks too, as you look away. As he packs his things back up into his book bag. As the bell chimes singling the end of the period and he leaves the classroom room.

He knows he’ll probably never see you again and that thought alone upsets him way more then it should. He hadn’t even said a word to you. Why was he such a fucking idiot? He should have asked a question- or something. As he goes on with the rest of the day, he finds himself unable to keep you out of his mind. You keep popping up. You’re pearly smile. You’re E/C eyes, and those lush lashes that framed them. He’s drifting into the thought of you as he works; making coffee for teachers and students alike.

He works at one of the many campus cafes’ part time, and today he’s behind the coffee bar. He doesn’t mind it, he actually likes barista-ing. The business of it makes time go by faster. Because everyone needs their caffeine fix, there’s never really a slow moment. He’s always busy. Which is why he doesn’t notice you when you walk in. Doesn’t even realize you’re there until you’re right in front of him, next in line.

He almost chokes on his fucking tongue.

“Um- Hey. Hi” Smooth, Bucky- he hisses at himself in his mind.

Your lips widen, grinning in recognition and his stomach flip flops.

“Hello again” You greet him, trying to reel in your own shock. What kind of fucking serendipity was this? After the entire day of giving your guest speech to class after class- you couldn’t get the stormy eyes out of your head. And now here he was. About to make your coffee. “Fancy meeting you here-” your eyes peel for his name tag.

“Bucky” He inturupts with a nervous little smile.

“Bucky? Hmm” You roll his name over in your mouth. Tasting it. He watches his name slip from between your lips and he can feel a twitch in his black work slacks.

“I like it” you decide and he chuckles and thanks you, telling you he was pretty fond of it himself.

“Well, what can I get you?”

“A large, iced skinny white chocolate mocha with extra whip, please- And what’s good to snack on here?” your eyes scan the large, clear display box full of goodies an Bucky’s more then happy to help you. Anything- to keep talking to you. You end up on a ham and cheddar bagel- he says he can testify to their delicacy. He ate two every day-

“You’re in pretty good shape for treating bagels like their own food group” You teased, but only party. He was gorgeously built- not “body builder bulky” but tall and broad shouldered, his biceps prominent under the long sleeves he wore. You wanted to bite them.

“I work at a gym part time” He chuckles back as he runs your platinum card “Gotta at least try to look the part”

He obviously misses your ogling as you give a relaxed hum in response, taking your purchases and shooting him one last heart stopping smile and goodbye as you retreat. Everything inside of him screams in fear, and its so confusing. Because he had just met you, had maybe said a dozen words to you, and yet he’s terrified of you walking out of the door and him never seeing you again. It’s that same alarm going off on his head as earlier after class. He’s relieved when you choose, instead of leaving, to take a table in the back corner of the café.

“Okay, who the fuck is that? And why did she make you react like a twelve year old boy?” Darcy, one of his co-workers, asks. Her thin, dark brow raised and her pouty lips pulled into a shit eating grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”- he almost face palms at that. At how childish and unbelievable he sounds.

“Um H-H-Hey. Hi. Hello” She snarks, teasing on the way that he had greeted you and he bumps his shoulder to hers lightly, telling her to fuck off under his breath as he goes onto another costumer. Happy for the distraction.

You sit in that little café for far too long. Sipping on your iced coffee until it’s nothing but ice. Nibbling on the ham and cheese bagel- he was right it’s delicious. You pull out your tablet and get some work done- making sure that everything’s going smoothly. Checking in with your assistant. You sit there for almost an hour before you’re forced to leave and you cant help but feel a little huffy. Why hadn’t he come up to you? You can feel that intense stare of his on you. You don’t have the time to wait for him- and yet the idea of never seeing his handsome face is not something you’re willing to face. So you reach into your bag, and pull out one of your business cards and a pen.

Bucky cant seen to take his eyes off you for more then a few minutes at a time- its like you’re magnetic. The way your hair falls around your face, the way you cross your thick thighs. He adverts his eyes every time he feels like he’s about to get caught though. Darcy’s right. He’s being a twelve year old boy.

When you walk over to him, your red bottomed heels clicking, his head snaps up.

“Thanks for the bagel. It was delicious” You grin as you slide a bill and a card across the counter to him. His eyebrows pull together.

“What’s this?”

“A tip” You shrug…“It was really nice to meet you, Bucky” You purr, looking at him pointedly before you’re walking out of the door. He’s glued to the sight of your wide ass in those tailored pants for a moment- before he’s looking down at the paper in his hands.

His eyes widen, to an almost comical degree as he takes in the cash. You’d left him a two hundred dollar tip! Two fucking hundred dollar pills, crisp and neat sit under your business card. Which has your name and number printed on it in elegant scroll. He flips it over and is surprised to see there’s more.

-I know how hard tuition can get and working two jobs cant be easy.

I’d love to help, handsome. Give me a call sometime- xoxo, Y/N-

He cant believe what he’s looking at, he cant seem to draw air into his lungs to clear his head as he stares at your loopy, cursive hand writing. We’re you insinuating what he thought you were?

“Oh my god, you lucky bitch” Darcy’s voice comes from over his shoulder as she also stares down at what he’d been left “If you don’t call her, give me her number so I can!”

The first person Bucky actually does call, once he’s home and in the sanctuary of his room is Steve. Because Steve is his best friend, and Steve will know what to do with this information.

Of course, the asshole laughs at him for the first five minutes of the conversation. Until Bucky is huffing and threatening to hang up.

“I’m sorry, Buck. It just reminds me of when Mrs. Levinstien used to only pay you to mow her lawn. That dirty old lady had the hots for you so bad” Steve chuckles in defensive and Bucky grimaces at the memory.

“She’s not like that, though, Steve. She’s- she’s fucking beautiful, and successful and sexy. You should have seen her man” Bucky trails a hand through his hair as he thinks back at his interactions with you, and the mark your presence had left on him.

“Then what’s the problem?” That’s Sam who replies and Bucky rolls his eyes. Of course Steve would have him on speaker phone. Him and same we’re like connected by the tip of their dicks, so he was used to it.

“The problem with him pimping himself out?” Steve’s voice came out incredulous over the receiver.

“I mean, he already seems to like this girl. So he get to be with her and be paid for it? That doesn’t sound like a bad deal to me” Sam argues and they’re just making Bucky’s tired head ache.

“All I’m saying is that working those two jobs obviously aint cutting for you man. Call her. What’s the worst that could happen? You get to see a girl who you obviously have the hots for again? If you’re not into it, just leave. Its that simple” And when Sam say’s it like that, it really does click into place. It really does seem that simple. Even with Steve insisting that she could be a serial killer.

Bucky takes the night to sleep on it. He dreams of your lips, dreams of fucking that pretty mouth that seemed to spew nothing but charm of intelligence. Dreams of you sucking and sucking until he’s screaming. He hasn’t come so hard in his pants since he ACTUALLY was twelve. He wakes up to stickiness in his boxers and his cock pulsating and he knows he has to call you.

Why he’s so nervous? He doesn’t know…he keeps making excuses. Maybe you’d changed your mind over night? Maybe you we’re too busy to take his call…he finally musters up the balls after he’s getting off of his job at the gym a few days later, the sun setting on the city. It only rings twice before you pick up and he’s greeted with your bell chim like voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N speaking”

“Hey” His voice is too deep, gravely, but he cant help it. He’s nervous “This is Bucky- from school. I mean from the university- that you lectured at the other day-”

Why? Why does all cognitive thought leave him when he attempts to talk to you?

“Bucky, huh? I was starting to think you we’re going to call me” You tease him, but he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’ve been really busy” He lies- he’d just been a chicken shit.

“Mmhm” You don’t sound amused by that “We’re all busy people, and time is of the essence. I knew I should have gotten your number”

He chuckles at your directness “Now you have it”

“So I do. What should I do with it, hmm?”

“I don’t know… You tell me” He feels a little idiotic saying it, but he’s truly curious to what happens next.

“Why don’t you let me take you to dinner?” You’re nearly purring again and Bucky has to bite his lip to keep himself at bay. You were so straight forward, so unlike any of the girls he’d ever come into contact with in the past.

“Really?” He’s never let any one take him out to dinner. He was always the one to ask, to lead. But he had all of twenty dollars in his bank account(that two hundred you’d given him had gone to his part of the utility bill) and honestly, he wasn’t sure how he was going to stretch it til’ his next paycheck. Even if he wanted to be the one to take you out, to wine and dine you, he couldn’t.

“Mmhmm, really. Are you free Friday- at eight?”

“Um yeah, that could work” He was supposed to be working at the café that night, but he’d have someone cover him.

“Alright. Do you like Cajun food, there’s a new restaurant that opened in SOHO that I’ve been meaning to check out”

He liked any food that didn’t come out of his freezer, and so he agrees eagerly. You tell him to send you his address so that you can send for him, and he only faintly tries to protest, you reassure him that it would really be no problem.

“‘Kay then, it’s a date. I’ll see you then”

“I can’t wait” He’s overly eager, he can hear it in his own tone but the giggle you let out is warm and seeps into his bones instead of embarrassing him.

“Me neither. Have a good rest of your day, Bucky” and then you click end and he stands in the middle of the busy side walk, his phone still pressed against his ear. He feels hot all, the butterflies ricocheting in his stomach. He swallows it, pushes it down, feeling ridiculous and “unmanly” for the affect you have on him as he pushes on down the street.

Yeah, Bucky’s struggled.

But things seem like they may just be looking up.

@buchonians @papi-chulo-bucky @geekyweed @4theluvofall @peacefulwriter88 @missrobyn81 @prettybubblesintheair @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @papi-chulo-seb @shayla-markele @thatawkwardtinyperson @docharleythegeekqueen 

Okay ya’ll let me warn you now this one is going to be KINKY as a motherfucker. Prepare yourselves. And let me know if you’d like to be tagged for this little series!

[0rly]

1.young bucky and steve

2.bucky with his motocycle which I painted it pink > w <