Marvel Smut

My Stranger: Bucky Barnes xReader (1940s)

Growing up in the early 1900s, as a woman, was hard. Between Christian parents who believed that dancing was a sin, to society saying that you have to be a lady, it was difficult. My whole life, all I was taught was to cross my legs, be a lady. My hair should never be unstyled, especially in front of a gentleman caller. If you are leaving the house, at the very least you must have a light coat of makeup on. Woman were to save themselves for the man they were to marry, no ifs, ands, or buts. That's all well and good for some goodie-goodie with no desire to be anything more than a housewife. 

More than a housewife, that's what I wanted. I wanted to be more than just a baby-making, house cleaning, dinner on the table right as your husband gets home from work, kinda dame. No, I wanted to experience life. I wanted to travel, have affairs with men from around the world. Kiss the socks off of them and dance all night. I wanted to be an actress, a singer, or maybe an exotic dancer. I just wanted something more, period. 

The night he came into my life was a night I could never forget. The sound of an orotund female voice filled the room, the band playing a complimentary tune behind her. The faint sound of couples dancing accommodated the atmosphere. Dim lights, a few young couples were scattered around, some men attempted to flirt with the women around the various tables, and there I sat, at the empty bar, scotch in hand. 

"I've never seen a dame hold down liquor quite like you."

Without turning around, I placed my drink on the counter in front of me with an annoyed grunt, "With the week I've had, I'm lucky I haven't gotten anything stronger."

The mysterious stranger leaned beside me, his eyes focused on how I swirled the liquor around my cup, "Maybe a dance would take your mind off it?" He asked, his tone mellow and smooth.

Finally turning to size him up, I visibly smirked taking in his appearance, "Oh now sir, that would be a horrendous idea."

"Horrendous? You sure know how to flatter a man, don't ya?" The man chuckled softly. "So, why would dancing with me be such an awful idea?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to corrupt you," I responded flatly, taking a sip of my scotch. 

Before the man had a chance to respond, I continued, refusing to look anywhere other than his piercing blue eyes, "You'll take me to the dance floor, we'll dance, have fun, then at the end of the night you'll expect a goodnight kiss, maybe even get my number. Whereas dancing with me will lead to you taking me to your little apartment, pushing me up against the wall, and doing things to me that no one should hear about." My coy smile only brought a bigger blush to the mystery man's face. 

Standing straight, the mystery man extended his hand, "May I have this dance?" He grinned shyly. 

My hand slid into his, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Once we found a spot towards the edge of the floor, his hands landed softly on my hips. Maybe it was wrong to want this stranger to rip my clothes off at this very moment. To let him take me in front of all these people and make me scream his name. But if that was wrong, I didn't want to be right. Truth be told, due to my horrible week, all I wanted was to be slammed up against the wall and taken until I was shaking with pleasure. 

With my beautiful stranger in front of me, I took in everything about him. His muscles bunched under my hands as he pulled me closer to him. The sharp blue of his eyes scanning mine for a sense of rejection. He found none. I pulled him closer to me, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, before whispering into his ear.

"If I asked you back to my place, my parents would be around. Tell me you have a place where I can scream your name. I'm dripping in anticipation. Waiting to feel you inside me."