#switch bucky

[buckyalpine]

Sub!Mob Bucky x reader ft pegging

18+

Dom CEO Bucky x f reader

A bit of a pegging drabble. Welcome to my fever dreams. I started this when I was dying and sick in November. I’m still sick but not in the way you think, just my ideas are sick and I’m a sick person for this. This is the OG fic that inspired this, proceed with caution. 

Once again shame on me. 

Lets say, after the first time, you’re both insatiable 

He doesn’t always need it hard and rough.

Sometimes he needs you to fill him while being soft and slow, your hand wrapped around his cock while his thick thighs hug your waist. Your lips brush against his while he moans for you, your hips rolling slowly. 

Like today. 

Quiet footsteps ascend the stairs and you know he’s home. His hair is a little messy from repeatedly running his hands through it, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. His eyes are tired but they light up as soon as they lock with yours. 

“Hey angel” He pulls you into his arms, his face burying into the crook of your neck. “Missed you baby” 

“Missed you handsome” You coo, pecking his lips while wrapping his arms around his waist, inhaling the remnants of the cologne he’d sprayed that morning, “How was work” 

“Just tired, long day” He shrugs, taking his watch off and removing his tie. You help him undress, unbuttoning his shirt and placing it in the hamper while he slips his belt off and hangs his slacks in the closet. 

“Hot shower?” You smile up and him softly, while he give you a small nod, his muscles still tensed from stress. 

“Yes please” 

He happily follows you into the bathroom, for once finding your scorching hot water temperature satisfying instead of cowering away from it. You grab some shower gel, scrubbing and massaging his skin while he groans, feeling his body start to relax.

“Feel better baby?”

“Mhm” He kisses you deeply, savoring the taste of your lips, the sweetness of your tongue. Nothing makes him happier than being at home with his sweet angel. He loves the way your hands wrap around his body, gently rubbing and kneading his back, working down his spine. 

After you both rinse off, you wrap yourself up with your fluffy robe, only to have it tossed off you seconds later when Bucky throws his own towel aside, pulling you into bed with him. You squeak as he pulls you to straddle on top of him, his hard cock swollen against his abs while he rubs up and down your soft thighs. 

“I’ve had a long day baby” He whispers, his eyes more puppy like than usual. You know he’s still not fully relaxed, your hand cupping his cheek, caressing him scruff while he kisses the inside of your palm. 

“What does daddy need” 

“Fill me angel” He groans, laying down, his head against the pillows, legs parted. You know exactly what he needs, humming softly. You grab the bottle of lube, squeezing a drop onto your finger tips while you lay on top of him, kissing his face. Your hand brushes and massages his scalp, carding through his hair while the other hand trails down, ghosting over his cock to his tight ring of muscle. 

You know how he needs it, gently pushing your finger in, sliding in and out, smiling at the soft sigh he lets out, spreading his legs further so you could open him up more. You slip the toy on so it sits snugly around your hips, pecking his lips before lining the tip up with his perfect hole. 

“Ready daddy?”

“Please baby” He whispered, moaning deeply as soon as the toy breeched his hole, his eyes rolling back as you started to push in deeper. You took your time, giving him long, deep strokes, the same way he did when he took his time making you feel good. 

“That’s it love, make love to daddy” He groaned, gently guiding your hips to hit that spot that makes his cock leak, the tip of his length making a mess on his tummy. You slowed down to swipe up the sticky mess he was making, licking it clean off your fingers before continuing to fuck him, focused on giving him the most pleasure you could. 

“You taste so good daddy” You tasted him again, your cheeks growing warm as he locked his eyes with you, his lips parted, panting each time you thrusted in. 

“You love this don’t you princess, God you’re so - mmpph fuck - so good” He started to lose himself, his deep moaning getting higher, nearly whimpering when you changed the angle of your thrusts, pressing against his prostate. “Fuck right there princess, please, r-right fucking there, c’mere” 

“There daddy?” You whispered, moving faster, your body falling onto his as he wrapped his arms around you, lifting his thighs up so you could fuck him deeper. He kept his face tucked against your neck, nipping and sucking your soft skin, his cock bumping against your stomach with your movements, 

“There-there-’mgonna c-cum” He was sure he was going to cry from pleasure, all the tension of his day melting away as pleasure crawled up his spine, deep euphoria spreading through his body. “Angel, m’cumming!” 

There was no warning as streams of cum burst from his cock, his hips rutting up for more friction, humping against your body, his length pressed between your bodies. You cooed, gently grazing his scalp, continued to fuck him through his high, not stopping until he was milked dry, a creamy milky mess on the both of you. 

He spend the rest of the night with his face between your legs, more relaxed than ever, rewarding you for doing such a good job, giving you 3 orgasms for his hands free one. 

Now @cadencejames87 inspired this, cause imagine he wants more. Not just for you to make him feel good but for the both of you to feel good together. He gets a double sided toy so you could both spread your legs apart across from each other, the both of you stretched open while your bodies move in sync. Sometimes you’re both on your backs, his heavy legs on top of yours, feet planted on the mattress, just relishing in the feeling of being filled up he may or may not have had your end molded after him since no one else gets to stretch you open like that, toy or not. 

When he’s extra needy, you’re both bent over while he pushes back to stimulate the both of you, his cock leaking all over the sheets, jaw slack while he desperately moans with no shame, bouncing his hips back, his ass clapping againsts yours JESUS 

Anyway.

Please don’t block me. 

Please. 

[logansgaar]

thank you What If...? for finally confirming that Bucky does in fact have honey pot training as part of his deep cover, it's been fan theory for too long. It's a gold mine for fluff, smut, crack, darkfic and angst all in one

[becca-e-barnes]

What I'd give for the chance to feel like a little stress relief for CEO Bucky 😵‍💫

Loving the thought of being his colleague and not just having to admire him from a distance.

When he comes in each morning, dressed in a crisp, beautifully tailored suit, you find yourself wanting to jump straight onto him. He's powerful and smart and wonderfully capable and it does so much for you.

He finds a way to sneak you a coffee each morning, making sure no one else sees; conscious that your colleagues might start to ask you uncomfortable questions if they found out.

You don't doubt that folks have their suspicions. They're bound to. You're sure they notice the way you focus just a little too long on the plump curve of his bottom lip or the way you lose yourself looking at those long, thick fingers.

No one else knows that your weekly meetings with each other are just an excuse for you to help him take the edge off. They usually consist of you riding him in his office chair, sliding up and down on that delicious cock of his, touching yourself while he takes a phone call.

"That's it pretty girl. Fucking earn it." He's tilted the receiver as far away from his mouth as possible, keeping the speaker to his ear so he can still hear whoever he's got on the line.

It's impossible to stay quiet but you've had plenty of practice. Between the phone call that couldn't wait and the people you work with sitting just outside the door, you've got no choice but to find a way to stay quiet.

"No, that's what I told you last week." Bucky's getting more frustrated by the minute, his brow furrowing and his grip on your hip tightening. "If you've filled out the order wrong, I don't know what to tell you."

Shit, you love this. You've fallen into a delightful rhythm, grinding and rubbing yourself, satisfying his needs as well as your own.

"I don't know how you fucked this up, I couldn't have been clearer." Usually you'd playfully smack his shoulder and warn him to be nice but not when you're this close.

Your body sliding down on his length sounds obscene. You're wet and messy and you know you're going back to your desk with a pussy stuffed full of cum and you love it.

You can't help but groan quietly, your fingers working your clit in tight circles, desperately searching for release.

"I thought I told you to earn it?" Bucky's speaking to you again without any hint of the anger he's feeling for whoever he's talking on the phone to. He's kinder and softer with you but he still likes to maintain his authority.

His free hand holds your wrist to stop you from touching yourself, knowing the can draw this out a little while longer. You can have that back when you've earned it or he decides to do it for you.

[stuckysbike]

More Than One Valentine

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.

Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader

-

Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.

It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.

You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.

“What?” You stuttered.

“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.

“I - but - we-“

“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.

It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.

So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.

It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.

And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.

Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.

“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.

Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.

So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.

You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.

You should have prepared for a broken heart.

Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.

At least you tried to.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.

You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.

“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.

“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.

You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.

They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.

Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.

Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.

“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.

Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.

Your heart broke a little more.

And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.

Where Steve asked Bucky took.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”

And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.

You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.

“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”

You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.

When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.

Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.

“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.

In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.

Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.

And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.

You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green!” Steve said urgently.

“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.

Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.

Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.

His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.

“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.

And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.

“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.

Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”

Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”

When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.

You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.

When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”

You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.

You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.

“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”

Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.

“Colour?” You checked.

“Green,” Steve said.

“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”

Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.

You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.

You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”

“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.

You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.

“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.

Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.

When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”

Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.

“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.

You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.

“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.

He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green,” Steve practically slurred.

You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.

“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.

A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.

Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”

You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.

“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”

“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.

Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.

Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.

Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.

His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.

And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.

“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”

You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.

“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.

“Please Bucky,” you whined.

Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”

“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.

“Colour?” Bucky asked you.

“So fuckin’ green!” You said.

“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.

Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.

Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.

Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.

His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.

With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.

Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.

“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”

Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”

Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.

“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.

Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”

The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.

Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.

You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.

“Is he good?” You prompted.

“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.

“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.

Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.

Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.

“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.

A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.

Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.

“I should go,” you said suddenly.

“No!” They both said at once.

You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”

Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”

Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”

You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.

“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”

You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.

Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.

[buckrecs]

Subby Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

Control by @cake-writes

Bucky isn’t usually one to relinquish control, but this time he does.

please. by @buckybarnesdiaries

Bucky needed to be spoiled.

I See Sunshine ‘cause I Know That You Are Mine by @duckybarnes1917

Bucky enjoys being your good boy.

Tied Up by @duckybarnes1917

Bucky wants to be tied up, teased, and denied.

Crooked Crown by @rookthorne

Sometimes the King needed his Queen to take care of him, and you were more than happy to oblige.

Delicate by @bucksangel

Bucky Barnes, known as the ‘king of New York’, is ruthless and powerful, running everything with an iron fist. He has no weaknesses, other than you. You’re his world, his soulmate, his angel, and he’d do anything and everything to keep you safe. What John Walker, an up-and-coming mobster with irrational tendencies, doesn’t understand, is that you’ll do the same for Bucky.

in your arms i’m born again by @bonky-n-steeb

you want to find out exactly how many times is too many times for the super soldier.

Starved. by @buckybabieboy

Bucky's first time after 70+ years

The Tailor’s Son by @kinanabinks

After a decade away from Chicago, you're back home to rule over your domain - and to finally make the tailor's son yours.

Overstimulation by @metalbuckaroo

"As long as you want me to, sweetheart. I'm all yours."

Insatiable 19.1 by @thenhewaswrongaboutme

After finally returning from the mission gone wrong, Bucky has you right where he wants you— spread out on the bed with his head between your thighs. He’s a little eager, but it’ll be fine— right?

so you had a bad day… by @dirtychocolatechai

reader edging Bucky who's had a rough day

Can you see what I see? by @dailyreverie

Mission Accomplished by @buckyseternal

sometimes your work is stressful. coming home from an especially aggravating mission, you take out all of your frustrations on your boyfriend.

Dirty Little Secret by @moonlight-prose

bucky's long kept secret soon becomes reality.

Control by @cake-writes

Bucky isn’t usually one to relinquish control, but this time he does.

You Know Just What I Need by @sinner-as-saint

Freshly out of uni, Bucky Barnes comes back to live in his family home. Given he’s the only son of a billionaire, he needs security around at all times. And his dad puts you in charge of his son’s safety until he comes home from a business trip. You intend on doing your job as perfectly as always, but what you didn’t know it that Bucky is a spoilt brat who is only interested in pestering you and making your life a living hell… until eventually you are left with no other choice but to teach him a lesson in order for him to learn how to behave.

drabble by @becca-e-barnes

making a subby!dbf!Bucky cum inside you

Touch by @ro-is-struggling

Bucky was not a fan of physical contact, that was something you knew about him even before you started dating him. What you didn't know was how incredibly touch starved he was. That is until one lazy Sunday afternoon, when you take your relationship to the next level.

Losing Control by @flordeamatista

Control is reclaimed by you

Occupied by @goodgirlofglory

You have dragged Bucky into the handicapable toilet on the main floor of the administrations floor of S.H.I.E.L.D and intend to swallow his cock. Who is he to say no?

Big Boy by @goodgirlofglory

tying up a big strong metal armed super soldier and making him cum over and over and over while he’s begging

Delicate by @bucksangel

Bucky Barnes, known as the ‘king of New York’, is ruthless and powerful, running everything with an iron fist. He has no weaknesses, other than you. You’re his world, his soulmate, his angel, and he’d do anything and everything to keep you safe. What John Walker, an up-and-coming mobster with irrational tendencies, doesn’t understand, is that you’ll do the same for Bucky.

Stupid by @coffeecatsandcandles

Without reason, Bucky asks for a divorce.

I Hate U by @duckybarnes1917

Bucky hates you. Until he doesn't.

The Storm He Claims by @sstan-hoe

with a hot-headed wife like you, Bucky's life was never boring. Add to that, his daughter. Seven years, cute as a button with the temper of her mother.

The Interview by @sweetbbarnes

After directing a successful movie about Captain America’s life, the media seems to think that you and Steve Rogers would be the perfect match. Little do they know, your heart has already been taken by his best friend, the infamous ex-assassin James Barnes. And although you two are in a secret relationship and even secretly live together, when Bucky hears people talking about how you and Steve would be perfect for each other, his insecurity gets the best of him. But it’s okay, because you are determined to show your soldier just how much you love him.

Purr for me by @rookthorne

A deal had been struck, and since you had claimed victory that day, you were more than eager to collect the reward of such a win.

plaything by @captain-buckyyy

[avonne-writes]

taking the baiiiiit give me your top Gale/switches headcanons, go go gooooo

Yay, thank you, anon! 🔥 The first headcanons that came to my mind:

Gale has great stamina and will keep going no matter what until his partner comes first. The only exception was his first time because he was really nervous.

He's very patient about prep and will finger Bucky until he thinks Bucky is ready because he knows that Bucky can’t be trusted when it comes to avoiding unnecessary pain for himself.

He knows exactly how best to hit the sweet spot. He’s just really good at learning how to play Bucky like a fiddle. He loves handling big birds.

Gale is more vocal when he tops than when he bottoms (due to subconscious internalized shame about enjoying bottoming), which Bucky really enjoys.

If Gale tops, he prefers to do it literally on top or behind, he wants to have control and do most of the work. He likes all positions, of course, but for example, Bucky is way more into Gale riding him than Gale is into the opposite.

Top Gale is dominant. He likes Bucky pushing back but it's still Gale who calls the shots.

In missionary, he likes eye contact and communicates how amazing he feels through that as well.

Bucky's thighs turn him on so he loves squeezing them during sex.

He also loves it when he tells Bucky to hold onto the headboard or when he ties him up, because he likes the view. For a similar reason, he also likes watching the muscles of Bucky's back tense and relax.

The first time after the war, he and Bucky have a lot of rounds after each other and they keep switching to avoid too much soreness and because they're crazy about each other.

Do you guys have any top Gale/switching headcanons?

[moghraidhs]

i've been reading too many fics and i just had an awful thought - that the reason brady was so insistent on bucky jumping before him was because he was afraid if he went first bucky wouldn't jump at all

[anachilles]

[INJURY]: after having been badly wounded themselves, the sender tries to reassure the frantic receiver by cupping their face and comforting them.

Oh my god I love this prompt list! Requesting ^ with Gale and John if you’d like to write it ☺️

same, buddy! and i'd love to. hope you enjoy this one! 🫶 -> prompt lists i'm currently accepting requests from: [ x ] [ x ] <-

“Holy Mary Mother of God! Buck, are you hit?! Are you hit?!” Curt screeched from the co-pilot seat, having just been thrown sideways with the great lurch the plane gave as the other man momentarily lost control of the craft.

For a single heart-stopping second, Gale presumed that he had been.

It sounded cliché to say so, but the burst of firepower, hot on the heels of Curt’s frenetic “Fighter, 10 o’clock!” warning, truly did feel like it came out of nowhere. They weren’t far off the chosen industrial targets in Abbeville, and had gotten eerily lucky with the flak up to that point, a couple of solid knocks but no major casualties or issues reported from the crew. For all intents and purposes, it should’ve been a clear run to the IP.

Whatever Luftwaffe pilot, speeding down from the clouds above, that happened to catch an opening to get a lucky shot in at the side of their fort, however, had other ideas. When all's said and done, it could’ve been worse; the couple of bullets that actually made impact having just about caught the metal frame bracketing the port-side window rather than shooting straight through the window itself. But all the same, the pane still shattered in a blinding spray inward. His reflexes quick, Gale had managed to duck his head and avoid the worst of it, but…

“Oh, God” Curt squeaked out, the last of the colour draining from his face when Gale turned to look at him.

Although in reality only taking place over the course of a couple of seconds, it stretched on what felt like several minutes when he saw it in his peripheral vision, swallowing down the wave of nausea that threatened to break over him at the realisation of the little shard lodged into the corner of his forehead through the lined leather of his flight cap. As if he’d needed to see it to activate the relevant neural pathway, only then did he feel the warm, sudden wetness of blood on his face, soaked into his bangs where they were flattened against the cap.

Alright, turned out he was hit.

Beneath the rush of blood in his ears, the roar of the engines, and the rattling of the ship's frame, he was distantly aware of a frantic flurry of chatter in his ear over the radio, but for that little pocket of a few moments it may as well have been miles away.

“Major Cleven, are you hit?!” “Is Cleven down?!” “Bombardier to pilot, what the hell’s going on up there? Curt, is Buck hit? Over.”

Disregarding the demand of the voices echoing in his own headset, “A-Are you okay?” Curt stuttered, blatantly making a real effort to look him in the eye and not at the shard just above his eyeline, whilst still keeping one eye on the sky in front of them as Gale remained holding the fort steady.

Gale blinked hard, and allowed himself half a moment to consider it, taking brief stock of all his senses. Could he see? Yeah. Hear? As much as he could before over the general racket of piloting this thing. His cognition seemed to be fine beyond the shock, his hands were trembling a little, but they were still held firm on the yoke with a mindless but steeled determination. The adrenaline was clearly preventing him from feeling any sort of immediate pain from the wound beyond the sticky dampness of the blood that...

...he also realised had stopped actively flowing. Long-forgotten lessons from first aid classes ranging from his Boy Scout days right up to mandatory medical training through basic and at flight school flashed through his mind with a violent jolt. The shard mustn’t have lodged too deep, the cap likely softened the impact a great deal, and the wound must've already started coagulating around it, like a stopper in a bathtub plughole. He just could not take it out, despite how every natural instinct he possessed screamed and banged from the box he'd locked them up in in the back of his mind to get it the hell out.

Surprisingly, he surmised he actually was okay, relatively speaking. Enough so to get them to the target and with as much chance of getting them back as he ever did.

With a deep, fortifying breath and a hard swallow to push down what remained of the urge to panic, Gale engaged his radio, addressing the entire crew. “Pilot to crew, I’m fine, boys,” he reported, willing his voice into the steadiness that the rest of the men had come to expect from him. “Mission continues as normal. ETA, um… 15 minutes or so to the target, so bombardier, standby.”

Curt was looking at him, pale faced and wide-eyed, like he’d lost his mind, but there was no time to argue about it, as enemy fighters continued to dog what was left of their formation on the approach to the target.

What else could Gale do, though? What other option even was there for him other than to bear down and carry on, especially when he was physically able to do so?

So they carried on, only a little bit chillier and more blustery than they were used to thanks to the broken window.

"It's probably good I get a spot of fresh air, all things considered..." Gale had tried to joke at one point, when he feared the stony silence after all of the commotion was getting to Curt. He didn't seem to like that one, though.

"Yeah, well, crack open a window next time rather than have it shot through."

They did eventually make it to Abbeville, they hit their targets, and then by some miracle limped their way home back across the Channel, through more Kraut fighter fleets and a floating minefield of flak. All the while, Buck grit his teeth against the constant, corroding paranoia about moving too fast, knocking his head on something, forgetting it was there in all his blind determination to get the job done and get them back, or accidentally jolting the shard, goading it to shift and allow it to start bleeding again, properly this time.

The wary, concern-filled glances Curt kept sending his way, even as he was clearly doing everything he could not to throw Buck off his rhythm, weren’t helping. They just kept reminding him that it was there, something sticking out of his goddamn head that wasn’t meant to be there.

That thought became more and more pervasive, growing vines and burying deep into his subconscious the closer they closed in on the Thorpe Abbotts runway, unable to be avoided now even if he tried as the ache gradually started to set in. Gale wasn’t the squeamish sort, but even he couldn’t help the queasy feeling as he went through the motions of the landing procedures. Every time he shifted now, he felt it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Curt reach for the little pocket where they kept the flares.

By some miracle they’d had no other significant casualties.

“Don’t bother with a red flare, Curt” Gale said, steadfast gaze fixed on the runway as it grew closer below them.

Curt froze, his hand slowly retreating from the pocket, looking at him like he had three heads. “You’re kidding me, right? You're as white as a sheet.”

Gale winced and let out a pained huff of a breath, the wound twinging as the altitude dropped on the descent. “Some of the other boys got chewed up rightly out there. Clearly, I’m surviving here. They need the priority for triage.”

“Major,” Curt said, tone imploring and although referring to him by rank, it was imbued with an unmistakable, desperate kind of affection. But Gale just didn’t have the capacity for it right now, to think about anything other than getting them on the ground after getting them this far. He’d apologise for any liberties of manner later. Later, later, later…

“Look,” he snapped, voice rigid and brittle. “I’m landing this damn plane, and then I’m gonna get up and walk off it of my own volition. Is that understood?”

Curt looked momentarily surprised, and like he wanted to put up a bit more of a fight about it, but it must’ve been clear either in his expression or tone that Gale wasn’t for having his mind changed. Curt gave up with a dissatisfied huff, settling back down into his seat.

“Pilot to crew, prepare for landing. We’re home, boys. Over.” Gale said, hands shaking but sure of themselves as he went and landed the damn plane.

With a shard of his port-side window lodged in his head.

There was blessed finality in the sensation of rock solid tarmac under their wheels as they taxied into their ship's designated spot, and Gale resigned to let himself sit in that for a little bit, breathing, breathing, trying to get his bearings about him as well as letting all the other men clamour out first.

With the crushing weight of duty and the mission and getting the boys back safe above all else lifted from his shoulders, it quickly relocated itself to right on top of his chest, that sickly, queasy feeling trickling back in until the trickle became a flood and it started pooling in his stomach. He realised was cold all over, but all clammy at the same time. He didn't want to get up, was starting to fear it, not trusting his feet under his own weight, but he knew he couldn't just sit there.

"You go on Curt," he drawled out, just as final as the Earth under their landing gears, but... Curt being Curt, who'd pointedly lingered behind as the other men departed, gave him an incredulous look. "I'm right behind you," Gale insisted.

He went, albeit muttering 'crazy son of a...' under his breath, and then louder, "I'm waitin' outside, y'know!"

Gale knew there was going to be a whole big to-do when he did emerge, even just the thought of the flap and attention itching uncomfortably under his skin before it'd even happened yet. Christ, when Bucky sees him like this...

Gale hoped like hell he hadn't landed yet, that he could slip away to med without him having to see.

God his head was hurting now.

Sucking in a lungful of air, he forced himself to stand through the light-headedness, forced himself out of the cockpit and out the hatch, down onto the tarmac under overcast British skies through the dark spots that were dancing around in front of his vision. The world grew fuzzier around him with the harshness of the drop down, the organised chaos of ambulances and shouting and bodies running to and fro suddenly sounding far away, like he was listening to it with his ear pressed up against a door that separated him from it.

Gale bit back a heave and tried to put one foot in front of the other, in what direction and with the intention of going where he didn't quite know (he just needed to go, he knew that much), swaying a little until a hand caught him under the forearm. He turned his head to see where the hand came from, who it belonged to. Instead, he caught a slightly warped, blurry reflection of himself in the shiny metal of the fort's shell in between the flak holes, actually saw with his own two eyes the piece of that plane stuck in him, melding itself with his flesh, making itself a part of him. He dropped down onto his knees then, falling under the weight of some invisible force acting against him as the last of the blood in his head drained away.

With seemingly one part of his fortitude giving up the ghost, others took that as the cue to follow, his stomach finally committing to rebelling properly, as he promptly fell forward onto his hands and vomited down onto the asphalt.

*********

"Ooooh, Jesus" Bucky had winced in sympathy as he inched the yoke a little to the right, adjusting them so they were properly in line again where they were supposed to be in the formation (he could always tell - just knew in his gut - when they weren't properly positioned), his gaze cast out the window and down to the left. "Who's fort was that? That hit looked nasty."

He'd heard the garbled "Fighter, 10 o'clock!" from one of their gunners and snapped to look, but by the time he had it had already swooped down and set upon one of the ships below, the fort lurching in an all too telling way that whoever was piloting it was in some sort of trouble. In the next second it was gone though, zipping away to circle back around again and likely have another go.

Beside him, Brady paused for what felt like a deliberately extended few seconds, like he knew the answer to the question but was still considering his words and if he really wanted to say them. The nosedive Bucky's heart took down to his stomach started before Brady had even had the chance to grit them out as his eyes remained scanning the horizon.

"That's, uh... Cleven and Biddick, I think," he said, in that plain, no-nonsense way of his that Bucky actually to some extent appreciated most of the time.

He hated when they assigned Buck and Curt to the same goddamn plane. Like they deliberately placed all of Bucky's eggs in one tiny, fragile, threadbare basket that was ready to come loose at the seams any second.

His jaw tense, Bucky chanced another look down at the fort in question, safe in the knowledge Brady was watching the rest of the skies while Bucky watched out for them, unable to leave it alone until he could see with his own two eyes they were alright. The knot in his chest loosened to find that they'd seemed to quickly correct course. Brady's eyes followed his own, leaning over a bit as he strained to get a look.

"I think they're fine though, Major. Looks like they mustn't have hit anything important."

Bucky allowed the reassurance of that to wash over him, tide him over for the time being, if only for the sake of being able to focus back in on the mission. Buck and Curt, they hadn't dropped out of formation, they were keeping pace, they hadn't radioed any of the other crews for assistance, their engines weren't trailing any smoke. All signs pointed to them being okay. He could live with that. He'd have to.

*********

The world around Gale was muted and muffled like he was hearing it from underwater, narrowed down into a single point like he was trying to look through the eye of a pin as he tried to catch his breath after heaving up his breakfast. The chill he'd felt creeping in before was now permeating his bones, his teeth beginning to chatter with it. His head was killing. He wanted to stand up, to move away from all the commotion, but the strength it would have taken for him to do so seemed to have abandoned him.

As if in slow motion a pair of legs came into view from the corner of his eye. He couldn't hear the stamp of the boots against the ground but it was almost like he could feel them reverberate through the tarmac they were hurtling towards him so fervently. That's when he knew who it was, and all at once the thick fog of the disorientation began to clear, Bucky's stricken face coming sharply into focus, bringing the chaos of the world around them with it. He wasn't sure whether the ache he felt was distress or relief.

"Bucky..." he murmured dumbly, uselessly, his name the only word clear in his mind as he tried to will his tongue to conjure the right words, whatever they were, as the other man immediately fell to his knees beside him. Gale lazily followed Bucky's eyes as they scanned his body first and then his face. He was able to pinpoint the moment he must've forced himself to look at the head wound, take necessary stock of it, all that blood, his nostrils flaring, breath catching in his throat as his complexion paled to a sickly greenish-white. Now he looked like wanted to throw up.

In the next breath though, one strong, decisive hand found purchase in between Gale's shoulder blades, rubbing gently in precaution, though the gagging had now stopped. When he yelled out into the crowd, it came out rough and strangled. "We need help over here!", and sent a couple of the younger lieutenants running. The other hand pressed gently then into the centre of Gale's chest, pulling him back so that he was leaning onto the support of Bucky's body.

"How the hell did you manage that, huh?" Bucky stammered out through breaths that were coming quicker and quicker, gesturing vaguely to it, his gaze flitting between the crowd rushing around in front of them and Gale's face. He'd had to strong-arm himself into looking just a minute ago, now he couldn't seem to look away from the angry red outline around the embedded crystal shard, the dried up blood tacky and dark crimson where it stained down the side of his face, his nose, soaked into the once fair strands of his hair.

Head injuries always bled much more than they were worth, somewhere just unreachable they both knew that, even the most superficial of flesh wounds likely to give most people a scare at first glance. But Bucky looked like his very foundations had been shaken.

Knowing he needed to do something, but clinging onto what little thought he had left in the moment for relative propriety, Gale hooked a hand around Bucky's forearm where it was still crossed against Gale's chest, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "Bucky, I'm fine, I promise," he said, voice gravellier than he would have liked.

The other man nodded jerkily. "You're fine. Of course you are, why wouldn't you be? We're going to get someone over here," he echoed, raising his voice and projected it outwards, "...and then you're gonna be fine."

Gale could feel the other man's unsteady breathing in the uneven rise and fall of his chest against his back. He flexed his fingers, held tighter. "I'll have you know I got us to the target, back from France and got two wheels down on that very runway like this; I'm fine now," he insisted, faux-annoyed and trying for humour to snap him out of it, soothe his nerves. But it clearly didn't help none, a crease of worry just crossing Bucky's face before he looked back out again into the distance, eyes slightly wild, waiting for someone, anyone to emerge from the pandemonium. To fix this.

Pulling himself up a little so he was sitting up straighter, Gale twisted round in the other man's hold. It was lost on him in the moment just what violence was apparently necessary to make what they were doing now acceptable in the eyes of society rather than repugnant. It was something he'd ponder later, when he had little else to be doing than laying up in the infirmary. Now though, he brought a still-trembling (but still equally sure) hand to cup Bucky's pallid cheek in his palm. He even dared, in a beat of pure uncharacteristic recklessness and capitalising on the chaos, to swiftly swipe his thumb across the handsomely sharp angle of Bucky's cheekbone.

Gale's gaze snared Bucky's in his own in that moment, refused to let it go in the name of sitting down, shutting up, and listening to him.

"John," he damn near pleaded, his voice low and slow, heavy with purpose and meaning, leaving no room to be denied or argued with. Miraculously, it seemed to cut through, go some way to grounding him, the frantic edge of Bucky's movements suddenly sanded down, right down to the sharp swivel of his eyes up, then down, then up, and back down again. "It's all going to be okay. Trust me."

Bucky was powerless to do anything but nod in his palm, just about restraining himself from pressing a most definitely and irrefutably improper kiss to the centre of it, before Gale lowered his arm once more, robbing him even of the chance to ruin them both. Spoilsport.

Somewhere in the not too distant future, when he was feeling more himself, Gale would look back on this and be mortified at the scene he was causing; the dramatics. Half-fainting, on his hands and knees heaving on the ground on account of a non-fatal injury while other men were being pulled from their forts with limbs missing, flesh torn apart, maimed irrevocably.

It felt like both seconds and hours, though it was likely only minutes, before Curt, who'd promptly disappeared as soon as he arrived by Gale's side, returned with an ambulance crew. The sight released a shuddering breath from Bucky he hadn't even seemed to know he'd been holding.

"Look, if there are other guys worse off needing help, I can hang in here-" Gale dared to start from below his chin, ever the martyr, only to be unceremoniously cut off by a much more robust, bordering on menacing bark from above. Gale wasn't sure whether the tone was meant for them, or him.

"Get over here, now."

[wolveria]

I said he was a top. I didn't say he was a dom.

[tempestaurora]

watched the first two captain america movies bc i'm sick and now i can't stop thinking about writing another stucky fic. i do not have a take. i do not have a concept. i just wanna write another 50k oneshot.

[goldthorn-archive]

Emma!Clegan au

“John Clarence Egan, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-four years in the world with very little to distress or vex him.”

Well, his brother-in-law, Mr. Cleven, does vex him. Constantly. And Mr. Cleven? Well, Mr. Cleven should like to see John in love.

(title tbd)

[moonknightblog]

Bucky Barnes and Marc Spector (with Steven and Jake) but it is a role reversal.

Aka Bucky Barnes is Moon Knight and Marc Spector is the Winter Soldier!

hehe

[alienoresimagines]

Curt: I like your top, Buck!

Bucky, with a shit-eating grin: I have a name, you know.

Buck *sighs*: Why. Why are you like this.

[meyerlansky]

at work, with two new-employee interviews back to back in ten minutes, is of course the perfect time to get worked up over mota leather kink ideas. good job, me.

[avonne-writes]

In light of your recent asks I need to DECLARE on your blog how IMPORTANT switching/vers John and Gale are to me! Of course I love all versions but that one is just peak to me, for all the same reasons as you. It really feels like them imo. THANK U for the amazing content and characterization you’re bringing us 🥰🥰🥰

Aaaah thank you so much, dear! 😭💕💕 I'm so glad that you're also a fan of this dynamic. Thank you for always entertaining my silly little AU ideas and gushing about the boys.

[tearitar]

wip wednesday

well well well if it isn't my good friend stuck-as-fuck wip.

by request: buckybuck mota top gun 80s AU :P

+++

Class takes place in one of the hangers in front of a brightly lit and open tomcat. It makes the whole thing seem needlessly dramatic, but Bucky isn’t one to complain about a little flair once in a while. Besides, it’s the new cohort’s first lecture and most of the students here could stand to be a little impressed. Bucky knows from personal experience about some of the egos that’ll come swaggering in. Hell, he’d been one of them.

Now, Bucky waits under the tomcat, not quite out of sight, but most eyes would pass him over with the number of officers standing center stage. He watches as the Navy’s best and brightest filter into their seats. The atmosphere is a strange combination of calm anticipation. A hanger full of steely nerves.

It’s no one’s first day on the job. Just at Topgun.

Bucky’s gaze momentarily falls to the side. He wants a drink.

The next time he looks up, he sees Gale walk into the hanger. Unlike the night before, he’s in no hurry to announce himself. It’s one thing to act a happy fool in a bar full of drunk pilots, quite another to do so during orientation. Bucky isn’t sure how he feels when Gale’s eyes pass over him and he goes unnoticed. 

A little hurt, maybe. But that’s just par for the course. 

At the very least, Gale looks fine, well-rested and seemingly at ease as he takes up a second row chair next to Curt. Then again, Gale’s as impassive as they come. Bucky’s lip curls. He might be in for hoot pretty soon.

Colonel Harding starts the lecture off with a brief introduction that leans more towards congratulatory than damnation. It’s a fine thing, getting the Navy’s cream of the crop, make them even better than what they already are. Always room for improvement, there is. The cohort is eating it up. Bucky has to stifle his own laughter behind a hand. As ever, the grin escapes and stays plastered on his face, right to the moment Harding chooses to turn towards him.  

“Of course, your live exercise instructor for the next few weeks,” Harding introduces, gesturing as Bucky emerges from the tomcat’s underbelly. “He’s one of the few pilots with recent combat experience, and a very close and personal look at the MiG 21. You’ll all do well to listen to what he’s got to say on the matter.”

Bucky tries hard not to take a sarcastic bow. Instead, he tosses his meager stack of manilla folders onto the podium, parks his elbow over it, and leans. The podium skids to accommodate the weight. 

“Mornin’,” he greets over the short screech wood against concrete. “Major John Egan. I’ll be running the MiG simulations, both in-class and live exercises.”

The problem with Major John Egan is that he’s a nobody. The class is a mix of bland looks or furrowed brows, and Harding looks especially amused behind the eyes.

And Gale — well. Gale’s got on a funny expression, lips pressed together and eyes almost glaring. He looks a little annoyed for the full second Bucky glances at him. When the frown disappears, Bucky wonders if Gale had it in him to look full on pissed if he threw him a wink. 

So, Bucky does the next best thing and fixes Gale with the biggest winning smile he can muster without looking too insane.

“Callsign—Bucky,” he finishes.

And that gets the class’ attention. More importantly, it makes Gale’s jaw clench and cheeks go ruddy as the room’s attention swing around towards him.

“Ain’t you ‘Buck’?” mutters the guy sitting on Gale’s right. Loud enough for the entire class to hear. Give that guy a medal.

------------------------------------

“So when were you gonna tell me, John?”

“Seems like I just did an hour ago.” Bucky meets his flat stare with a rueful smile and a shrug. “Couldn’t,” he adds with his eyes darting upwards. “I wanted to, back at the bar.”

The night comes rushing back. Bucky‘s cagey behavior then becomes abundantly clear. Gale sits back with an exasperated sigh. “You weren’t even supposed to be there.”

Bucky throws his hands up with a shit-eating grin. “I wasn’t supposed to be there,” he repeats as confirmation. Coming from his mouth, it sounds like an accomplishment and an honor. “But you know I just had to see you, Buck, mingling out there with your cohort.”

There’s a lie by omission threaded in that sentence, but Gale’s too busy wresting to keep his annoyance in place, keep feeling angry even when he wants to rip the whole truth out from Bucky. Why he was just—gone. Two years and not a word. Back as an instructor and not flying as he should.

Where the last two years went. Why he’s not allowed to get back up in the air when Gale knows he wants to so badly.