Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

✪ Locker Room

Warnings - Smut!, Virgin!Reader, fingering, oral (m&f), forbidden romance (kinda), coaches daughter type thing, perfect after care, pet names, a lot of fluff, some dick-ish side characters, suggestive insecurities

I haven't written smut in a while, and I absolutely loved the idea of this. It's been sitting in my list for awhile, and I wanted it to be a Steve fic, but I kinda turned it into a Bucky one because of the one I just published lol.

Anyways, this is my apology for the angst

(Not really lol)

High School AU!

*LONG CHAPTER*

Bucky could only describe you as beautiful and quiet. And off limits. The coaches daughter, the girl who sits in his office with a pen in her mouth as she reads whatever homework assignment given to the rest of his class.

For the past three years, he's been trying to talk to you. He's seen you in the halls, passed by his locker and to his best friends where you give him a tight smile and wish him luck for their next game before disappearing to class.

There wasn't anything against him. Half the team has only spoken to you once, and if they can hold a conversation, they try to take it a little far. Bucky and Steve had slowly been looking out for you, the occasion of Natasha while you walk home on the nights you don't have a ride.

By the second year, Steve had found out you only loved down the street. Your mom offered to babysit his little sister if he gave you rides home, and it was a perfect play. Bucky got to watch you over the glass as he got dressed and undressed, and was able to hear your small conversations on the way to Steve's car, where his bike was parked next to it.

Bucky slowly got you out of your wheel on nights where you were waiting in the locker room. Most of the team had left by then, and the few stragglers were just the freshman who wanted to ogle, his stare enough to send them on their way.

His talks with you in the locker room we're what he looked forward to. He got there early to see you were already in your father's office, laying on the floor working on something for a class he found difficult. And after a few moments, he was finally understanding the concept of pre-calculas all while making you a blushing mess under his gaze as he stood in the doorway.

If he ever wanted anything throughout his years of high school, it was to get your attention just once. If it was a small smile or a little wave in the hall, he knows he would shamefully be getting off in the shower at home, or be thinking about you all night until he woke up the next morning.

It was always a pleasure to see you in the stands at his games. You had paint all over cheeks, and a few of the cheerleaders were trying to push you to the Captain. Your father was yelling at him in the bench, telling him plays to get the best touchdown. He wouldn't tell anyone you were his motivation.

Most of the times, you were meeting him back in the locker room after everyone cleared out, giving him a soft touch on his bicep and praising on how well he did. Your skin on his only warmed him up more, and by the time he was getting to his bike, he was in a situation that couldn't be fixed until he was in the comfort of his bathroom.

Bucky likes the small talks he gets with you on his free time. The silence of the locker room gave the peace, and as he walks through the rows and to the office, he's not surprised that you sprawled out on the floor, your bag packed and a book in your hands.