Raw. Next Question

I'm very new to posting here but please enjoy 4.1k words of soft Bucky smut!

Do It Properly

You’re not sure what wakes you in the end. Whether it’s a creaky floorboard, a rustling of your sheets or merely the change in the air that another person brings. Whatever the reason, you open bleary eyes and squint into the darkness, reaching for your phone to check the time. You only notice another presence in your bedroom when he clears this throat and steps forward to the end of your bed.

You let out a tiny ‘eep’ of surprise before your mind registers who the shadowy shape belongs to, but you recover quickly enough to ask, “Bucky?”

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes; centenarian, former Winter Soldier and current cat-dad stands looking defeated by your feet.

“Hey,” he responds hoarsely, and you scramble for the switch on your lamp, desperate to see him properly.

The light starts low, gradually brightening the room as it warms up, bringing Bucky into visibility. He looks… well. You’ve seen him worse, definitely. He has this issue (you think it’s an issue, he doesn’t see the problem) in which he throws his whole body into fights with reckless abandon, his own well being taking a backseat when you’re not on missions to remind him that he should look after himself. That he needs to look after himself so he can come back home to you.

His right hand is bandaged which means it must have been pretty bad – they generally don’t bother wrapping up the super soldiers as most of their injuries have faded by the following morning, but it’s his face that really makes you gasp.

“Buck!” you whisper, horrified, as he shuffles forward, bashful under your gaze. “What happened?”

He shrugs off his jacket and you’re hit with the scent of gunpowder and smoke as he chucks it unceremoniously on the floor by the desk chair where Alpine is curled up. Al activates with an inquisitive puurp? arching his back in an elongated stretch to greet his daddy. Bucky turns to scritch the feline’s ears, rolling his shoulders at the same time. You take that to mean, don’t ask but you can’t ignore the angry red welts around his neck, the dark purple blooming under both eyes and Bucky’s wince when he huffs a laugh at Alpine when he kicks his back legs against his fingers as he tickles his tummy.

“Bucky…” you try again, shucking back the covers and reaching for his shoulder. You kneel on the bed and run your hand down his back soothingly, pretending that you’re not looking for further injuries. “You get your nose broken honey?”

Bucky ducks his head and looks at you through his eyelashes pitifully.

“Sam set it back already. Took the shield to the face,” he admits slowly, enjoying your touch as you ease the muscles in his shoulder and at the base of his neck with your fingers, searching out the pressure points that make him groan.

“Why, what’d you say?” you tease, gently.

Bucky huffs again, then cringes as it causes him pain, slumping close to lean on you.

“Wasn’t my fault,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. His left hand comes up to play with the strap of your tank top and you shiver against the cool metal. “Steve doesn’t enunciate. He only warned me to duck after he threw the damned thing. Jerk didn’t stop laughing the whole way home.”

You press your lips together and stroke the back of his head, making sure he stays buried in your neck so he can’t see how you’re struggling to hide your amusement.

“And this? You get on Sam’s bad side too?” you stroke his neck lightly, brushing against the vicious bruising that decorates the delicate skin there. Bucky stiffens almost imperceptibly, and you realise that he can’t talk about it. Not yet anyway. You know he’ll come to you when he’s ready.

You heave a sigh and push at his shoulder until he straightens, tilting his chin up to look you in the eye. “You just let me know if I need to go kick bird-boy’s ass, yeah?” you grin, peppering kisses over his eyebrow, betting that it’s a pain-free area before pulling him close again.

“Thanks baby,” Bucky answers on a heavy sigh. You continue threading your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, knowing the comfort of your touch is what he needs right now, rather than a dissection of his latest mission. You need the contact too, the physical reminder that he’s safe in your arms for the time being, though you make a mental note to ask the Captain why it looks like someone tried to garrotte your boyfriend. Honestly, what good is Steve if he’s not watching Bucky’s six when you’re not there?

You remain kneeling on the bed, letting Bucky use you as a crutch for as long as you can bare the weight of the 240-pound super soldier but eventually you have to push at his shoulder to get him to draw back. He harrumphs disappointedly but you know he’s not serious when his eyes drop from your face to skim along the length of your body, his right eyebrow raising appreciatively at the thin camisole and itty-bitty lace panties you’re wearing to counter the heat.

“Damn babydoll…” he begins, his hands hooking around the backs of your thighs to tug you along the bedspread, slightly closer to the edge. “You look good enough to eat.” He gives you a wolfish smile that has you admittedly a little weak in the knees and goes to duck towards your tits but you push at his forehead with a scoff.

“Uh-uh Barnes, don’t even think about it. You need a shower.” With your hands on his hips, he allows you to keep him at arm’s length while you slide from the bed and steer him towards your bathroom, his expression shifting from predatory to a dopey pleased grin as he allows you to take care of him.

“You gonna join me, sugar?” he asks, leaning against the sink as you turn the knobs and crank up the heat to a frankly dangerous degree because Bucky really doesn’t like the cold. You turn to catch him stifling a yawn into his fist, still fully dressed and you gesture at him impatiently.

“I don’t know, you gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself Sergeant?” You start unbuckling and tugging at his clothing, fighting with the supple leather that moulds to his arms as Bucky endeavours to stay awake. It’s a testament to how tired he actually is when you drop to your knees to wrestle his trousers down his legs and he doesn’t make a lewd joke, though you do see his half-hard length give a valiant twitch in his boxers before you tug those down too.

You help him into the shower, thankful that you don’t see any other bruising on his body but knowing that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt before you go to gather his clothes up into your arms. You don’t get that far though, as the glass door slides back open behind you and you’re tugged into the near-scalding water still in your sleep clothes.

“Buck!” you squawk, pressing yourself away from the water ineffectually as the spray soaks the front of your vest anyway. He crowds you up against the tiles that are already slick with condensation, effectively ensuring that no part of you has stayed dry.

“Mmm, you said you’d join me…” he mutters into your shoulder, nuzzling against your damp skin as his hands play with the lace covering your backside.

“And you said you’d keep your hands to yourself,” you huff playfully, reaching for the bar of Imperial Leather soap because old habits die hard and for Bucky the saying is doubly true. You lather the soap between your fingers and start moving it along his shoulders and back where you’re able to reach.

“No…” he drawls, slipping his fingers beneath your panties to stroke over the skin of your hips and ass as he presses his now very interested cock against your lower stomach and rocks you against him. “I didn’t answer and you interpreted my silence as agreement,” he murmurs. “I was very careful about that.”

You draw back and are faced with his incredibly pleased smile, almost impish in his glee that he’s managed to wrangle you into the shower with him for him to do as he pleases. You don’t have the heart to shatter his illusion with the truth, that you’d follow him anywhere under any conditions.

He tickles the soft skin between your thigh and hip and you squeal. You love seeing this side of Bucky, almost child-like in his mischief, even if the activity that you’re doing is very adult.

“Hmm, very clever…” you muse, drawing the soap down his right arm before sliding it up the other, ridding his skin and left arm of two days of sweat and gunpowder before starting to work on his chest. Bucky lets you work for a few quiet moments, watching your movements with half lidded eyes. You glance up at him and snort at the expression on his face; he’s hard for you but obviously can’t decide if he’s more sleepy or horny.

“Relax Buck,” you implore, working soap over his hips and kneading the bone there before making your way down his lower back, eliciting a sinful moan when you hit a knot and the muscle releases.

Bucky mumbles something into the skin of your neck between sweet kisses and you use one hand to tilt his head to the side when you ask him to repeat himself.

“Magic hands,” he slurs, rocking himself in time with your ministrations. “Magic, angel hands. Y’so good to me darlin’.” He pulls back and busies himself with playing with the strap of your tank top. “Wanna be good to you too.” Bucky’s hands drift southward to the waistband of your underwear, dipping his fingers in and teasingly raking his nails over the sensitive skin of your pelvis.

You shudder and feel his cock jump in response. Abandoning your task, you let the soap slide from your grip, ignoring the dull clunk as it hits the porcelain of the tub and instead wrapping your hand around his length and giving him one firm stroke from root to tip.

Bucky grunts, his hips jerking forward towards you. His hand slips fully between your thighs and you let out a sigh when his clever fingers part your folds to trace over your clit gently. Your natural slick mixes with the hot water still beating down on you both creating a heavenly slide that Bucky uses to his advantage, his movements becoming slightly rougher as you pant in his ear.

“That’s it baby, that feel good?” his voice is gruff as your desire heightens and he dips his forefinger into your core up to the first knuckle just to feel you clench around him when he strokes over the top of your clit just right. “Mmm, certainly seems like it feels good.”

You just have the wherewithal to register the slightly mocking tone in your boyfriend’s voice and retaliate with another firm tug on his member, the soap suds lingering on your palm making the glide smooth and slick, cutting off the rest of his sentence when it devolves into a whine.

You continue to jerk him slowly, reveling in the stuttering mess that you’re able to reduce him to with such a simple touch.

“Mmm, so sensitive honey,” you coo into his ear, increasing your pace incrementally. Bucky is completely at your mercy, his hand slackening in your panties and the coil in his stomach tightening with your movements. He rocks upwards on a gasp before straightening and grabbing desperately at your wrist.

“Stop – stop,” he pants, squeezing the base of his dick to stave off the orgasm that had crept up unexpectedly. “Fuck, almost made me blow my load in your hand baby, shit.” Your giggle sets him off with a growl and Bucky hoists you up into his arms, shredding your underwear with a wolfish grin.

“Bastard,” you say playfully, nipping at his bottom lip as he steadies you on a convenient shelf that you’ve only needed to replace three times since Bucky moved in with you.

“You gotta learn doll, none of your underwear is safe around me.”

As if to prove his point Bucky grabs a fistful of your top at chest level and you can see the gears turn in his head as he gets ready to yank and separate the body from the straps –

“Wait!” you call, throwing out an arm to catch his. “Just gimme a minute, damn,” you mutter, peeling the offending piece of clothing from your body and letting it drop to the floor with a wet thwack. “Running out of pyjamas thank you very much, some hopped-up super soldier keeps shredding all my clothes.”

There’s no remorse on Bucky’s face as he eyes your tits hungrily and you wonder when you lost your soft, sleepy boyfriend to this sex-starved menace. Deciding to tease him just a little more, you cup your chest, stroking lightly over your nipples and watch as his pupils dilate fully.

Bucky feels barely restrained, watching as you enjoy the delicate grace of your own touch and damn near drooling, desperate to get his mouth on your tits. He’s captivated by your movements.

“You okay there, Sarge?” you question, punctuating your words with a soft gasp as you apply more pressure to the sensitive peaks of your breasts. You arch your back a touch, your chest lifting just an inch or two closer and Bucky is salivating.

“More,” he requests, the whimper in his voice dampening the order. He recognises the tone for what it is – a plea – and he’d give almost anything to have his hands on you but – god – the way you’re writhing and panting before him, the slick folds of your cunt on display when you let your thighs fall open – Bucky can’t help but think you’re a goddess. He watches you for a minute longer, his body so tense that even the slightest touch might shatter him but what’s a goddess for if not to be worshipped? And Bucky will supplicate at your feet for eternity for you to rid him of his wrongs and cleanse the days before you. He’s been the luckiest son of a bitch for over a year now and he knows he’ll find heaven within you, that you lay peace and forgiveness down before him with simple caresses and erase his guilt with your lips.

You gift him a coy smile and let your hands drop, twining your fingers with Bucky’s and drawing him close until he’s stood between the ‘v’ of your legs, sharing your breath and feeling the heat rolling off your skin.

You tilt your head up and slant your lips against his, dragging his hands up your body to replace where yours had been on the mounds of your chest, encouraging him to squeeze and play as he wishes as you hook your calves over his hips and urge him closer still.

You chance a quick glance up at his face to find that he’s completely enraptured with your chest, snorting a laugh even as he feathers his thumbs over your nipples, raising goosebumps up your arms.

A shudder runs through Bucky’s body when he feels the tip of his cock brush against the heat between your legs and he tilts his hips forward to glide his length along you, delighting in your gasp when he grinds down against your clit.

“You want this?” Bucky asks, his expression split between cocky and desperate as he rocks against you, spreading his hands over your lower back and digging his fingertips into the meat of your ass.

“Mmm,” you whine, your head lolling back to rest against the shower tile, waiting for him to start pushing forward, for that first divine stretch that feels like nothing else –

But it’s not forthcoming. You crack your eyes open and lift your head questioningly.

“Please baby,” Bucky whines, pressing his hips into yours again. You reach up to stroke his cheek and just stop yourself from frowning.

“You need me to say it, Buck?” you ask softly, still running the tips of your fingers along his stubbled jaw, enjoying the scruff that pulls at your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah –“ each breathless plea is punctuated by an eager grind against you and you bite your lip against a moan when you feel his cock throb from where it’s trapped between your bodies.

“Okay honey,” your voice is shaky with desire for your man but you fight to keep your tone clear so he knows exactly how much you want him. “Please fuck me Bucky – I want it so bad, needed it the whole time you were gone – ah!”

You’re barely through your sentence when he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt before stopping just as quickly as he’d begun.

“Fuck,” Bucky hisses. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Mmm,” you whine in response. “Need you to move honey.”

He raises his head and shoots you a look. It’s one that you don’t get very often but you cherish the pinched eyebrows and lip trapped between his teeth as he fights to stop himself from coming prematurely.

“Needja to be patient baby,” he gasps out, his hands clutching at your thighs bruisingly as his Brooklyn accent slips into place. You can almost see his thought process as he runs through baseball statistics and multiplication tables in his head. You’re sweating by the time the tension finally drains from Bucky’s shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on him when he gives a couple of gentle test-thrusts.

“You’re not helping,” he grunts, as he gets a better grip on your slippery skin to hoist your legs higher, and you’re honestly not sure if he’s speaking to you or your pussy.

You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as Bucky lets you know he’s ready with a sharp snap of his hips and a grunt from deep in his chest when you dig your nails into his shoulders in surprise.

“Careful with the claws, kitten,” Bucky groans before really laying into you.

You cling to one another as his hips snap into yours orchestrating a rhythm of skin hitting skin that is only amplified by the water. The bathroom echoes with your lovemaking, even as you bite at your lip – it’s still the middle of the night and you share walls with two other apartments in this block, not to mention your poor downstairs neighbours.

It only takes a few moments for Bucky’s rough strokes to build your pleasure high enough for you to stumble and a sharp moan of his name escapes you.

“Oh god honey,” Bucky pants, uncurling his left arm from around your waist to reach out and grab the top of the shower door for stability. “That good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you pant, “S’good Buck, it’s good.” Your words escape you in a staccato, hiccoughing rhythm that he punches out of you in time with the movement of his hips. You tip your head back and Bucky takes the opportunity to litter a series of sweet kisses against your neck, whispering words of devotion in between the brushes of his lips, drinking in the ecstatic sounds that you’re making.

“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so good, s’good, don’t wanna leave, never gonna leave ya again, love you so much baby,” Bucky’s inner monologue escapes without direction as your pleasure climbs, his words encouraging your end almost as much as his movement.

“Please – please Bucky,” you stutter out, dropping your hand between the two of you to stroke at your clit, your desperation for an orgasm acute after being without him for too long.

“Me, honey, let me,” Bucky insists, leaning his upper body away from you slightly to find the best angle. His practiced fingers find you easily and you feel yourself clench involuntarily around him when his thumb massages you in just the right pattern. The moan that you let out is quiet but so desperately needy that Bucky hisses when his cock throbs in response but by that time it’s too late for you anyway.

You dive off of the precipice, arching your back and feeling your pussy pulse uncontrollably as you’re ignited from the inside. Bucky pushes in to the hilt one final time before he too lets go, whimpering quietly as he joins your bliss.

You remain entwined beneath the water for a few long moments, relishing in the feel of one another before Bucky tilts his head back to look at you, his eyes still hazy with lingering pleasure. You know he’s not able to get drunk but if you saw him like this at any other time you’d assume he was intoxicated. You snort internally and go to make fun of his pussy-drunk expression when –

“Marry me.”

You slap your hand against the shower wall, groping desperately for the button that will halt the stream of water beating against the glass because you think that you just heard your super soldier boyfriend propose to you while he’s still very much inside you.

“What, Bucky-what?!” you finally locate the off switch and shower ceases, leaving the pitter-pattering of water droplets as the only sound in the room while you and Bucky stare at one another. “Did you just – ”

“No.” His response is short and sharp, cutting over the end of your question, as though he can’t bear to hear the words leave your lips. When you blink at him, he has the gall to look guilty and his shoulders drop in defeat. “I said – I – ” he takes a moment to clear his throat twice before speaking again.

“I said marry me. I’m sorry.”

Silence reigns again while you absorb the shock of his words.

“Bucky…” you begin slowly, wriggling back slightly to bring attention to his cock still buried to the hilt and his hips still fit snuggly between your thighs. “…are you proposing to me while you’re still balls deep?”

Bucky groans and lets his head drop to your shoulder as your laughter rings out but you wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze him as close to you as you possibly can, hooking your ankles one over the other at the small of his back so he can’t escape you.

“I – I had a plan, and a ring –” he starts to explain into your neck but you silence him with a tug to his hair so that you can meet his eyes. The concern etched on his face disappears almost as soon as he sees your joyful expression and he gifts you the softest, sweetest smile in return before taking a deep breath in and you just know what’s going to come next.

So you reach up quickly and place the tops of your fingers over his mouth.

This man – this man who has been through so much more than anyone should have to, who has survived horror and death and the loss of his autonomy only to come through the other side still able to love – deserves to have exactly what he wants. He deserves to have this moment, his proposal, exactly as picture perfect as he’s always imagined. And so although you know you’ll say yes, that you’ll marry him in a heartbeat, you halt Bucky’s next words.

“Wait,” you instruct gently. “Just wait. Do your plan – give me the ring.” You don’t explain further but brush your lips against his once, twice and whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you sweetheart.” Bucky responds just as quietly, and you feel the full force of his devotion and adoration hit you when he rests his forehead against yours briefly.

The moment is ruined when he steps away from you to turn the shower back on to wash away the evidence of your lovemaking with a mumbled; “It’s a good thing you didn’t say yes, Sam woulda never let me live it down if I’d proposed like that.”

You shuffle under the warm spray and wrap your arms around Bucky’s waist to gaze innocently up at him. “Oh – I’ll definitely be telling Sam about this,” you state. “My pussy game is so good that I got a marriage proposal? Bucky, I’m telling everyone.”

Your squeal echoes off the tiles as Bucky growls and digs his fingers into your waist in retaliation, grinning wickedly, and barely able to stop himself from sprinting to his underwear drawer to recover the ring nestled at the back.

He’ll do it properly tomorrow.

*moans*

cheekbones: ✓

😫😫😫

Keep your eyes on the road (aka an unexpected sex pollen adventure)

Summary: Honestly, this is what Bucky gets for not listening to you.

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ only. Oral sex while driving, sex pollen, sex in a car, bad language, Bucky desperately needing to bang. Also please do not try to replicate this unless you are in fact with a super soldier who has super reflexes, as blow jobs while driving should probably be attempted by super people. 

A/N: Is this really my first time writing sex pollen? Yes it is. Is Bucky being needy and desperate kinda fun? Yes it is. Did I enjoy writing this? Yes I most certainly did. I hope you enjoy it too. ;)

*****

The thing is, you told him you didn’t feel like coming on this mission.

And you told him not to open that container with the giant blood red skull on it. 

And you told him to to wear a mask.

And you told him to let you drive, but he shouted something about you being a passenger princess before unceremoniously shoving you in the getaway car.

So yeah. You told him all these things.

The thing is, Bucky fumes, glaring at the swerve of headlights advancing in his rearview mirror - he really needs to learn how to fucking listen.  

“Shit, shit, shit!” He slams the accelerator to the floor and the car gives a sickening lurch. Beside him, you crack your head on the window, trying to buckle your seatbelt and swearing at the top of your lungs. 

“Bucky what the hell’s the matter with you? Just drive.” 

“I’m trying,” he snaps. He can feel the flushing prickle of sweat beading down his neck. Rubbing a shaking hand down his face, he blows out a harsh breath. “Why in god’s name is the heater on? Turn that shit off, I’m burning up over here.”

Craning your neck, you watch the headlights gaining. Fumbling for the Glock taped under the seat, you shoot him a confused look. 

“The heater isn’t on, it’s freezing in here. I told Steve to fix it and he ignored me because he's a giant asshole.”

Eyes locked on the road, Bucky reaches blindly for the window handle, hurriedly rolling it down. A blast of cold air rushes through the car and he gulps in relief.

“Better, much better,” he mutters. He squints into the rearview mirror again, mentally calculating the time between headlights and taillights, when he feels a twisting wrench in his chest. It sends bursts of heat skimming under his skin, snagging every nerve along the way. A panicked whine slips through clenched teeth. Alarmed, you turn back and meet his wild eyes, sweat now pouring down his face.   

“What the - what’s wrong? Bucky? Talk to me!” 

When you grab his arm, he visibly recoils. 

“No no no, don’t touch me, don’t - ah holy fuck, don’t touch me. If you do, I can’t - I’m gonna put the car in the ditch.” 

“You’re scaring me Bucky, what is this?”

He says nothing, deep in thought as his brain runs through the mission on warp speed, trying to identify something, anything, that could possibly -

Wait.

Oh.

Crap.

It's like a sucker punch when he realizes.

“The gold dust that flew out of that container, did any of it touch you?”

“You mean the one I told you not to open but you did it anyway because you can’t follow directions? Bucky what is wrong, you need-“

“Answer me,” he snarls. In the dashboard glow, you see his face pale. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus. “Sorry, sorry, just - please answer. Did any of it get on your skin?”

Baffled, you shake your head.

“No. None of it touched me, it just hit you.” 

Bucky nods, relieved. 

“Good, okay. Okay. Think I know what this is,” he grits out. Another shudder wracks his body and he grips the steering wheel so hard it squeals in protest. “HRNE-75.”

Your response is a blank stare.

“Am I supposed to know what random letters and numbers mean?”

“It’s a stimulant.” 

“Like caffeine?”

“No, like a drug.” You can hear him breathing faster. “Like a - like an aphrodisiac.”

Still a blank stare.

“What kind of aphrodisiac?”

“People call it sex pollen,” he says flatly. “It makes you horny. Like - really fucking horny. And it hurts like hell unless you do something about it.”

“Well, okay. We’ll figure that out when we get home, but for now - “

“I can’t - I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he interrupts. Sweat soaks the collar of his shirt and he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down. Following his gaze, you can see his cock straining against his jeans. 

“Jesus Christ. Bucky if you’re in pain, just pull over and let me drive, you can jerk off in the backseat.”

“We don’t have time to pull over, that fucker’s right behind us and if we don’t get us past Steve’s stupid check point, we’re gonna lose him and then the whole mission is wasted and I got sprayed by some bullshit horny dust for no reason and I’m sweating so much right now and I think I’m going to throw up, my dick hurts so fucking bad!” 

His voice reaches an hysterical pitch and you press your lips together, choking down the laughter. 

“Okay okay, I got it. So if you come, does that stop the pain?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t matter,” his shoulders slump miserably. “We can’t stop yet and I can’t jerk off and drive at the same time. Maybe under normal circumstances I could do it, I mean sure I have done that before because sometimes I get bored driving, but I just don’t have that kind of focus right now baby, I don’t.” 

Tremors are rattling through his entire body now, as he fights for control. As he shifts his hips, unconsciously searching for some kind of friction to offer relief, an idea pops into your brain.     

“Hey. Let me give you road head.” 

His hands slip on the wheel and he double-takes. 

“Wha - road head? Like - what does that mean? Like you’d give me a blow job? While I’m driving?”

If this were any other situation, you would tease him mercilessly for the way his voice squeaks, but you smother the urge. Plenty of time for that later.   

“Of course. If it helps.”

“But you mean, you’re going to suck my dick? While I’m driving?”

“Love the emphasis on the important words. Yes, I’m going to suck your dick, while you’re driving.”

Bucky bats the idea around, debating whether you’re actually serious and whether he is probably definitely going to drive down a highway at - he checks the speedometer - 145 miles per hour, while you suck his dick. Another wave of heat roils through him and he stifles a groan. Glancing at your expectant face, he gives a shaky nod.

“You’re sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer to him.

“It’s not a hardship Buck. You know I’m your dick’s number one fan.” Carefully popping the button on his jeans, you tug down his zipper and he pushes up his hips, struggling to help. The slight pressure on his aching cock already has him whimpering. “Just drive careful, alright? If I die because you wreck Steve’s car while I’m sucking your dick, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Bucky breathes. “Careful. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Grasping him firmly, you lower your head and take his dick all the way down in one smooth move.

“Oh my fucking god,” he shouts, eyes fluttering. “Sweet shit that’s good!” 

He keeps one hand in a death grip on the wheel, while he places the other against the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place. Bobbing up and down, your tongue strokes along the ridges of his cock and you feel him swelling impossibly thicker. Tightening your lips, you suck hard, dragging slowly up  and he croaks out a garbled plea.   

“Keep going, keep going, please keep going.” Beneath your practiced mouth, his entire body begins to vibrate and he grips the back of your neck tight, chanting desperately. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, holy fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He thrusts up, holding your head tight as he comes down your throat. When your fingers scratch along his thigh, his foot inadvertently pushes the accelerator harder. The car climbs to 155 miles per hour and above you, the sound of ragged panting fills the car. 

Releasing his dick with a soft lick, you look up and Bucky chokes at the sight of your spit slick, swollen lips curving into a smile.

“That was fast. Feel better?”

He breathes a whispered yes, but you can still see the red flush still spreading down his neck. He swallows hard and grimaces.  

“Helped. Definitely helped. Still hurts, but better,” he says faintly and you see his cock is still rock hard. “It’s okay, it’s enough for now, I appreciate the - “

Rolling your eyes, you lean down and take him back in your mouth. Slipping a hand between his legs, your fingers carefully cup the heavy weight of his balls, squeezing gently. The rest of his sentence fades, melting into a rush of fervent praise.

A luscious ache settles in your belly, feeding off the hot desire you feel sparking through him, at the filthy words you hear him whispering above you. If you weren’t driving down a pitch black highway at a completely inappropriate speed, you’d consider reaching down to take care of yourself, but since you’re already flouting the most basic rules of automotive safety, you figure you should keep your hands on Bucky’s balls instead.

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

Bucky glances over at your movement, a deep growl rumbling in his chest at the sight. He didn’t think anything could make him harder at this point, but the image of you so turned on by giving him a blow job, does the trick. He grinds his teeth, dangerously close to just pulling over and saying fuck this ridiculous mission. Rubbing his hand between your flexing shoulder blades and slowly bobbing head, his rasping voice carves into you.

“Does this make you feel good? Doin’ this for me? Fuck me, wish I could help you out right now. You’re so damn good to me baby. Moment we stop this car, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

With his dick buried deep in your throat, your enthusiastic hum of agreement vibrates deliciously and he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. Everything feels incredible. Your tongue curling around the head of his cock, sucking gently on the tip, before sliding back down. The way you swallow around him, the squeeze of your throat, so hot and slick and tight. It feels so god damn good and he’s close again, one more second - 

The transmitter sitting in the console squawks to life, an ear piercing siren shocking you both from the lust fueled haze. You jerk off Bucky’s dick in a panic and he nearly screeches at the loss. Scrabbling with the device, he smashes the green TALK button.

“What?! What the fuck do you need, I’m busy.”

“Calm down there, speed racer,” comes Steve’s breezy voice. “Just letting you know we pulled the guy over. Turn around and come back so we can - “

Steve’s voice is abruptly silenced when Bucky crushes the transmitter with an easy squeeze of vibranium fingers. He flings the shattered splinters of plastic into the back seat and slams both feet on the brakes. The car fishtailes across the road, before skidding to a stop in a spray of gravel. Throwing it into park, he flips the lever under his seat and slides back with a mechanical thunk. Scrambling to pull his pants down all the way, he spreads his legs wide and takes his dick in hand. His eyes are dark, blown black when he turns to you.

“We’re safe. Get your pants off and get over here. Now.” he barks. 

Grinning at him, you tug on your tac pants, shimmying easily from the stretchy black fabric and clambering into his lap. There is no pretense. Bucky lines himself up and yanks you down, filling your cunt in one rough thrust. You’re so wet, he slides in easy. 

“God, Bucky,” you hiss. “That feels so good.”

He tugs on your shirt, pulling everything off until your breasts are bared. His mouth finds a nipple, teeth gently scrapping and tugging, greedily sucking the sensitive peak between his lips. He moves your hips faster, lifting and dragging you down on his cock over and over, until he jerks you down one final time, slams his head against the seat and comes with a long, guttural moan. Deep inside, you feel him pulsing over and over, until you can feel it dripping down your thighs, hot and sticky. 

Head tipped back, he struggles to catch his breath and you can see his heartbeat jumping wildly at his throat. When he finally opens his eyes to meet your questioning stare, you can see.

His eyes are still dark. 

“Need more?” You smile gently, smoothing sweaty hair from his forehead.

He swallows hard and then nods slowly.  

Rocking your hips, you grind down on him and lean in for a deep kiss, sliding your tongue against his. Bucky gives a shuddering sigh, sinking back into the feel of your body rolling against his. Warm hands stroke lightly down your spine and you can feel the thick, heavy weight of him growing hard again between your legs. But waring with the pleasure, a nervous tension seems to grip him.

“Bucky. I’m not made of glass,” you admonish. Licking delicately along his earlobe, he mumbles a string of apologies and your lips trail down his neck, pressing a kiss against that fluttering heartbeat. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Use me however you need. Make yourself feel good. Just make me come before you’re done. Deal?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he says, shivering uncontrollably at the heady combination of your cool breath and fiery words. “I can do that. ‘Course I’ll do that.”

His hands slide up your back and hook over your shoulders, his fingers splayed over your collarbone. He holds your body firmly in place, thrusting up into you and simultaneously rocking your hips forward. The angle is perfect and you moan at the feel, dizzy with desire as his cock rubs that spot inside just right. 

The sounds filling the car are purely pornographic. Wet skin slapping, Bucky grunting with every hard snap of his hips. The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking up your belly, between your breasts, pressing divots into your skin. He stares up at you, his eyes heavy and hooded and utterly adoring, relishing the sight of you grinding your pussy against him. His hand slips between your legs, stroking over your clit, rubbing fast tight circles. He smugly drinks down the breathless gasps he coaxes from you.   

“Bucky, I think - I think I’m - ”

The words falter when your hand slams into the car roof and your head falls back, eyes drifting closed. Lust slaps him hard as he watches you come, writhing above him, your voice cracking when you moan out his name again and again.  

“That's it, there you go baby,” he whispers roughly. The vision is breathtaking. Stunning. He figures maybe he could get used to sex pollen and a perpetually aching dick if it means he gets to see you like this.

He was already close (again), but the pure pleasure in your face is enough to knock him over the edge. He buries his face between your breasts, pinching your nipple and licking over your skin and your fingers tangle in his damp hair. You hold him tight as he gasps out your name, emptying himself inside you one more time.

And this time, finally, you can feel some of the spring tight tension disappear. His skin is still hot, but the shivers begin to diminish. Rough hands still grip your hips, but it feels controlled. The manic lust begins to fade, leaving a smoldering fire in his chest.   

Bucky tips a weary head back and meets your amused expression. A smile tugs the corner of his lips and he shakes his head. 

“God damn,” he sighs.

Scratching your nails lazily along his scalp, he leans into your touch, humming like a contented, if slightly feral, kitten. 

“Feel better?”

“So much better,” he murmurs. “Sorry that went completely sideways. Wasn’t really expecting that. Obviously enjoyed it, but still. Unexpected adventure.”

Pressing a kiss to his forehead you laugh.

“Next time, maybe don’t open the can with the giant red skull on it. Deal?”

“Deal.”

A comfortable silence settles. Bucky trails his fingers down your arms and you eye him thoughtfully.

“So, do you think they’ll come looking for us?”

“Maybe. Eventually. What should we do while we wait?”

There is a moments pause. And then you begin to roll your hips against him again and Bucky feels the electricity flare to life once more.

“We keep going.”

*****

2020, Better You 60 Day Challenge

At the beginning of 2020 I will be trying @psyduckstudies​‘s challenge, but with a few twists. Here are my 10 daily things.

I am going to:

Meditate - 🧘🏻‍♀️ every morning after waking up. For how long you want but it’s got to be noted and journaled

15-minute-clean-up - when you come home from school/work or at the end of the day, put a 15 minute timer and clean up as much as possible within that time period. This helps keep your environment clutter free and much more enjoyable.

Yoga 🤸‍♀️ - every day. Keep up the stretching and practice those new positions. It’ll pay off in the end.

Drink nothing but water and unsweetened tea ☕️ - we are cutting off the juice, the coffee, the alcohol, the soda! All of that is out (for 2 months, we got this) btw fruit smoothies don’t count as long as there is no juice in it! 

Gratitude journaling 📖 - write down the things you’re grateful for!

Self compliments 🥰 - who says you can’t compliment yourself. Tell yourself 3 things you love about yourself every day. It can be small, like how soft your earlobes are or bigger, like how kind you were for spending personal time helping someone in need!

Walk more 🚶‍♀️ - let’s be honest, it’s winter and all you want is to be in bed hibernating and you probably won’t do crazy workouts. But at least you can walk a little bit more instead of taking the bus or go out of the house just for the sake of taking a walk. It’s good for your mental health too.

Read! 📚 -try to read several pages a day. If you haven’t read in a long time, start with 15pgs a day of anything! Read webtoons or blogs and articles!

Say no ❌ - no more meaningless spending. No to inconvenience. No unnecessary hang outs with ppl ur not even close to. No to doing something that you really don’t want to do that you agreed to because you felt bad saying no!!!! None of that! Be selfish and do what you want.

Lastly, any goal that you feel like you need to work on in order to be the best you!!

I removed the “cold showers” because I honestly don’t think I will be able to do it and I will try cleaning up my room every day for at least 15 minutes.

And I also switched “learn something new” with “walk more” because at the beginning of the month I have almost a month filled with exams so there is plenty to learn for them already, I don’t think it’s reasonable for my schedule to try to fit something new right now. But I think walking more is going to be pretty good for myself because when it’s exam time I tend to stay in at my desk or in bed the whole time without seeing the daylight which is so bad and makes me feel pretty awful. 

My 10th goal is “get enough sleep” 🌙 It’s hard with so many exams coming up but just try to do your best, you know your mind is so much clearer when you’re well rested. Take advantage of that. 

Also, I don’t think that missing a day with 10 habits to check during exam period is that bad, so I won’t be starting all over. Actually I think that what could work better for me is to apply the next rule : “You cannot skip a habit for more than two days in a row”. I think it’s fair enough… 

I hope that you take the time and energy for the 1st 60 days of the new year and join me in this challenge. We can hold each other accountable!

Last but not least, let’s give  @psyduckstudies credit one more time for coming up with this cool challege. And good luck everybody!

did i maybe cry a little bit… yes. everyone deserves a bucky.

As I Lay Awake | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This is yet another fic inspired by my sister and her husband and their stupidly perfect, adorable relationship. 🙄

If you like what you read, throw me a reblog so that others can find my stuff 🥰

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

Bucky’s arms snaked around you, lifting you from the couch despite your spirited protests, and he laughed at your feeble struggle against his super soldier strength. Why you fought him about going to bed every night was beyond his comprehension. Your job was draining- early mornings, late nights, mountains of work, and endless meetings sunk you into what seemed like a permanent state of exhaustion- both mental and physical.

And yet, you never wanted to go to sleep. All he wanted was for his best girl to get the rest she needed. His heart ached as he watch you resist sleep each night, knowing deep down that the exhaustion was crushing you.

“Baby, come on, you know you’re tired…” Bucky set you down on your side of the bed, watching you fight the exhaustion that weighed your eyelids down. With a labored groan, you sat up, quirking an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

“It’s only like, eleven. I’m not tired, Buck. Come on, let’s go watch a few more episodes of Supernatural”. You tried to escape from the bed, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

He rolled his eyes at your resistance to rest as his hands rested on your shoulders, gently laying you back down. “Why do you do this, sweets? You fight me about going to bed every night”, his cold hand found your cheek, resting gently against your warm skin. “You get up so early and work such long hours- you need your sleep. Why won’t you just let yourself rest?” He was right, and you hated it. In all honesty, you were tired- exhausted, actually.

You didn’t want to admit the truth, but when he stared you down with those icy blue eyes, your resolve crumbled. “It’s just that…I- I work a lot, Buck. And so when I’m home, I wanna stay up as late as I can so that I can spend time with you- as much time as possible”. Your words warmed Bucky’s heart and broke it at the same time. He loved spending time with you; If he could, he’d spend every second with you for the rest of his life- but he didn’t want you sacrificing the rest you so desperately needed.

“Sweetheart…God, you’re adorable. But you can’t do that to yourself- you need your rest. If I were refusing to sleep just so that I could spend time with you, would you be okay with that?” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, staring down at you with a faux frown. He couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatic huff that accompanied your quiet “no”.

With a victorious chuckle, Bucky got you settled in bed and took his spot next to you, wrapping his body protectively around yours like he did every night. The two of you laid together in the dark stillness of your bedroom, relishing in the warmth of one another. With your head resting on Bucky’s chest, resisting sleep became impossible. The steady sound of his heartbeat and the cozy embrace of his arms sent you drifting off into dreamland in no time at all. Bucky listened to your steady breathing, happy to know that his best girl was finally getting some sleep.

But he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about you. He knew he’d be leaving for a mission in just two days, meaning that you’d be left to your own devices. He could see you staying up till all hours of the night without him there to make you go to sleep. He resolved to have a talk with you about it the following evening when you returned from work and surrendered to sleep himself, wrapping his arms around you just a bit tighter as he drifted off.

But his plans to talk to you were dashed by an emergency call from Rhodey at 10 am. Things had grown dicey at the Hydra base they’d been planning to infiltrate and they needed to get there as soon as possible. Bucky shoved clothes into his duffel bag and hopped on his motorcycle, stopping by your office on his way to the compound.

The screeching tires of Bucky’s bike drew the attention of everyone in your building. His frantic form rushed through the doors in search of you, scanning the offices and coming up empty. He was in a massive hurry, and knew he had to get to the compound ASAP, but he had to say goodbye. He only allotted himself five minutes to see you, and if he couldn’t find you in time, he’d have to leave without saying goodbye- and that was not acceptable. Anxiety pushed him onward, desperately searching the building for you as quickly as he could.

The sweet sound of your voice set his mind at ease. He flew to you, pulling you into his arms without paying any mind to your staring coworkers. You tried to ask what he was doing running around your office like a madman, but he cut you off.

“I don’t have a lot of time- I have to leave. Rhodes just called” he took your face in his hands, memorizing each feature just in case he never made it home. “Things went sideways- we’re leaving right now”.

The information sent your mind spinning, leaving you feeling like the rug had been ripped out from under you. The 48 hours that you thought you had left with Bucky were stolen from you just like that, leaving you heartbroken.

“I just needed to come say goodbye” he crushed your lips with his, pouring every ounce of his love into the embrace. “I love you. I love you so much, doll. Take care of yourself while I’m gone- I’m gonna try my best to keep you updated, okay?”

You nodded. Tears welled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, leaving mascara-tinged tracks on your skin. Your coworkers looked on, but you couldn’t have cared less- Bucky was leaving, and that’s all that mattered.

“I- okay. I love you, Buck. Be careful. Please”. You leaned into him, deeply inhaling his warm scent, “I need you to come home- I need you here with me”.

He squeezed you as tight as he could without snapping your spine, promising not to take any unnecessary risks. “Promise me that you’ll actually sleep while I’m gone, okay?” He breathed a sigh of relief when you nodded against his chest, and felt a tiny fraction of his anxiety recede.

With one last deep kiss, Bucky was gone. He left you standing in the hallway, teary-eyed and brokenhearted. He was off on yet another dangerous mission, and you had to somehow focus on the rest of your workday.

All Bucky asked of you was that you take care of yourself and get some rest while he was away, but it proved easier said than done. Without Bucky at home waiting for you to return from work, it grew easier to stay at the office later and later. The building fell quiet around you as your coworkers trickled out one by one, going home for an evening of rest and relaxation- but you remained.

It spawned into an unhealthy habit that kept you at work until past nine every night. There was nothing to look forward to upon your return home, only your dark, empty apartment- void of your favorite person. Only when you thought you were going to die of starvation did you head home to make a quick dinner and shower.

You found yourself on the couch each night, wrapped in Bucky’s favorite blanket and sitting alone in front of the tv. If you could focus on a show or a movie, you could avoid falling asleep just a little bit longer. Only when it became physically impossible to stay awake did you let the exhaustion win, falling asleep on the couch instead of the bed you shared with Bucky. Your phone always rested on your chest as you slept, just in case Bucky got a spare moment to send you a text- but your phone remained silent.

It was disheartening to wake each morning without a message from Bucky, but part of you was glad. If you woke up to a text from him, it would mean that you’d missed the opportunity to talk to him, and that was worse than sleep deprivation. Getting in touch with him while he was on a mission was damn near impossible, and if you weren’t able to respond to him in a timely manner, it might be days before he was able to contact you again.

Fatigue plagued your body, leaving you feeling empty and half-dead. Never in your life had you experienced such aggressive exhaustion. A dull ache lived in your head constantly and a thick fog wrapped around your brain, making everything fuzzy. A few coworkers pulled you aside in the breakroom on the fifth day of Bucky’s absence, asking if you were okay. They told you how concerned they were about you, noting the dark circles under your eyes, long hours at the office, and your alarming lack of energy.

The desperate need to stay awake in case Bucky called, paired with the intense worry about his safety swirled into a perfect storm of sleepless nights. Your coworkers could never understand what you were going through, and explaining it was emotional labor that you didn’t have the strength for.

On your thirteenth late night without Bucky, you sat awake in the living room while endless episodes of iZombie played without your attention. Worries about Bucky’s safety plagued you, sending sharp pangs of anxiety through your chest. Your fingers itched to text him, but contacting him while he was on a mission always made you nervous- what if your text was the sound that gave away his location and got him killed? But the pact you’d made with yourself to refrain from contacting him crumbled at your feet as you shot Bucky a quick text.

“Please come home safe. I love you. I miss you so much.”

On the fourteenth day since Bucky’s departure, your phone rang. A quick apology to your coworkers excused you from your meeting, giving you the opportunity to answer Bucky’s call.

“Bucky?” you breathed into the phone, praying that everything was okay. He recognized the worry in your voice and set your anxiety at ease, telling you that he was on his way home.

“Baby, why did I get a text from you at 3:26am?” his expectant tone signaled trouble for you. A sharp cringe twisted your features- shit, you hadn’t thought about the timestamp.

“Relax, Buck. I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and missed you. That’s all”. His silence unnerved you. He knew you were lying and wasn’t happy about it, but told himself to save that conversation for later.

As soon as you possibly could, you ditched your office. Bucky said he’d be home by 8, and you weren’t going to miss out on even a second with him. When you arrived home at 7:49, you sped around the apartment, cleaning and tidying the space for Bucky’s homecoming. The sound of his keys in the door sent your heart leaping into your throat.

“Bucky!” was all you could say as you sped toward the door and launched your body into his waiting arms.

“Sweetheart…” he whispered against your hair, nuzzling his face into your neck with desperation. A comforting warmth bloomed in Bucky’s chest, spreading through his body as he held you close.

“I missed you…”

“I missed you more, Buck”.

He pulled away from your embrace, taking your face in his hands and drinking you in. A frown tugged his features downward as he looked you over, your tired eyes breaking his heart. “Did you get any sleep while I was gone?”

Technically, the answer was yes. You did, in fact, sleep every night that Bucky was gone, just not enough. “Yes, I slept. I promise”, but he wasn’t buying it.

He scooped you up and carried you to the couch, flopping down against the cushions with a sigh. “Alright, this is serious. I need you to talk to me, baby”, he swept a thumb over your cheek, waiting for you to open up- but you didn’t.

“I wasn’t even here, doll,” he let out an exasperated sigh, “You said you don’t like to go to sleep because you want to spend time with me, but I was gone- you could’ve gone to sleep the second you got home from work. I just- I need you to tell me what’s going on”.

Your lips found his neck, sucking at his pulse and sending goosebumps over his skin. His head fell back in ecstasy as you worked slowly over the length of his neck, driving him crazy- until he stopped you.

“Hey, no- come on. You can’t distract me, sweets,” he gently removed your lips from his neck, “talk to me”. With a dramatic sigh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. The truth was embarrassing, and maybe even pathetic.

“When you’re here, I don’t want to waste a second of my time with you, so I don’t want to sleep,” he nodded, “but when you’re gone, I miss you. I um, I stay at work late so that I don’t have to be here in our home without you, and then I stay awake on the couch as late as physically possible. I don’t like being in our bed without you. So I just- I sit out here, waiting to hear from you. I- I don’t want to risk missing a text or a call- even though I know they’re rare...”

Bucky sighed. His hands stroked up and down the length of your spine, bringing you some much needed comfort. “Baby, that’s- that’s very sweet. I mean, it’s good to know that you miss me so much…” he joked, “but you can’t do that to yourself”.

An apathetic shrug raised your shoulders. As far as you were concerned, you’d stay awake until the end of time- no matter how miserable you were- if it meant you got to spend time with Bucky.

“Hey, come on, I need you to listen to me”, he lifted your head from his shoulder and stared into your eyes with a fierce intensity. “When I didn’t want to go to sleep because of my nightmares, you begged me to. All you kept saying was how important sleep is- how if you don’t get enough you could actually die. It’s just not healthy, doll.”

“But I wanna spend time with you…” your voice cracked ever so slightly, betraying just how desperate you were for him, “I miss you. I miss you all the time. And if I have to give up some sleep in order to be with you, I’m fine with that”.

Bucky’s expression grew stern. His brow furrowed and his jaw tensed as he let your words wash over him. “But I’m not”, he argued, “If you don’t sleep, you can have memory issues; it fucks up your judgement and coordination- baby, it’s dangerous. And if you wreck your car or something because you refuse to sleep and I lose you, I’ll- I can’t lose you. You wanna spend time with me, but you can’t do that if you aren’t here…”

Very real anxiety colored Bucky’s voice. His arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer, forcing your body against his with an unmatched desperation.

“I just need you to take care of yourself, sweetheart. Can you please do that? For me?”

You promised without hesitation. You’d never thought about how your bad habit would affect him, and mentally chastised yourself for making him worry. “I’m sorry, Buck. I love you…”

“I love you, too, baby. That’s why I need you to take care of yourself- so I can keep you around for as long as possible”. You snuggled into him, taking in his warm scent and listening to his heartbeat. The weight of his absence fell from your shoulders as the two of you sat there, fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Okay, it’s 8:39 right now. I need a shower and something to eat, but then it's time for bed- for both of us. Deal?” Bucky stared down at you with a stern gaze, only breaking his domineering façade when you agreed to go to sleep.

He got cleaned up from his mission while you changed into pajamas and made a quick dinner for the two of you to share. When the food was decimated and the dishes clean, Bucky carried your fatigued body to bed.

For the first time, you didn’t fight him- you didn’t protest or argue. You allowed him to wrap you snug under the blankets with the utmost care in the way he’d always wanted to. The two of you settled into bed, tangling your limbs together and relishing in the feeling of being reunited.

With your head on Bucky’s chest and his arms wrapped tight around your back, you allowed the strong grasp of sleep to drag you under. Just as you were about to surrender completely, your head lifted from Bucky’s chest. He tried to protest your sudden jolt of energy, but stopped when he heard what you had to say.

“Thank you for taking care of me…I love you, Buck. I’m so glad you’re home”. He leaned upward and met your lips with his in the darkness of your room, whispering an “I love you” right back.

You settled your head back in its rightful place atop Bucky’s chest, placing a light kiss to the scar that fused flesh to metal. With the love of your life home safe, you finally let yourself get the rest you so desperately needed, dreaming of him all night long.

——————————————-

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @cwbucky @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @themorningsunshine 💜

REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.

Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.

guys lets test em

We should do this guys XD

i am joe

Check out my ongoing comic Crow Time. It has crows, and also neat pantheons of epic beasties.

Stucky Avengers  +  Cards Against Humanity

Locked- b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Bucky just got home from a week-long mission, but he has some work to finish before he can pay attention to you. You take matters into your own hands.

Warnings: Smut/18+, vibrator use, references to sexting/pics/videos, handjob, light edging/orgasm denial, PIV sex, needy/slightly subby Bucky

Masterlist coming soon

Find me on ao3: dewystars

“Oof.”

Bucky barely cracked the apartment door open before he had to stagger back and brace himself against the force of your hug. You stood on your toes, your arms around his neck while you peppered kisses to his jawline. He wrapped his arms around you and pushed you back into the living room, kicking the door shut before he leaned down to meet your lips.

“Missed you,” you said against his mouth, unable to hold back your grin. You’d been waiting for him, and you didn’t intend to waste any time— you hooked your fingers into his belt loops to pull him closer.

But Bucky just pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek and stepped back.

“I need a couple minutes, honey, okay? I’ve gotta finish this report for Steve, I’m sorry— half an hour, tops.” Ignoring your dismayed glare, he pulled his laptop out of his bag and found a spot on the couch to work. He hadn’t expected you to be wearing that robe— soft, slinky material that provided easy access to what was underneath. That complicated things.

Bucky had been away for nearly a week on a recon mission. And oh, you gave him hell while he was gone— those pictures you sent, and god, the videos. The videos he’d had to watch curled up in his sleeping bag, with headphones in his ears and his hands clenched at his sides because he could not touch himself, damn it. There was no privacy in the one-room safehouse they’d been staying in, not even a hot shower to provide an escape and muffle his groans. He was trapped. You knew this, but you still sent the videos, working him up and torturing him so he’d be frantic for you when he came home.

But he wasn’t even supposed to be home yet. The paperwork never ended, and technically he was still supposed to be at headquarters for another hour, filling out forms and reports. He’d snuck out early— one kiss, he told himself, and then he’d submit the reports from home, easily before the deadline. And fuck, he was trying.

You sat next to him on the couch with your legs folded under you. “Come to bed,” you said softly as you placed your hand on his right bicep, raising goosebumps on his skin while he typed. “Let me take care of you.”

He pulled his eyes away from the laptop screen to glance at you. Only a glance, because he couldn’t bear to look at you when you were staring at him like that.

“I can’t, honey. Just a couple more minutes.”

“But I need you now.” You were pouting, and the front of your robe had slipped open slightly— he stared for a second too long before he forced his attention back to the screen. He just had to get through this report.

He hadn’t shaved all week, and his stubble had grown long enough that it was almost soft when you reached up and stroked your thumb along his jaw. You kept your hand on his chin when you rose to your knees and leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

He shivered at your hot breath against his skin, and his breath caught from the sting when you nipped at his earlobe. You worked your way down, mouthing at the tender spot just below his ear, and then down his neck, all the while holding his face steady with your hand.

But his eyes never left the laptop screen.

You settled back on your heels, your enthusiasm flattening. “Bucky, c’mon,” you whined.

He clenched his teeth. He really wasn’t supposed to be at home right now. And if he didn’t have this report submitted in the next thirty minutes, Steve would come looking for him, only finding an empty desk where Bucky was supposed to be. He’d be in deep shit then, benched and reduced to clerical work faster than he could say concupiscent. Steve didn’t understand; he’d never had you touching him, begging for him like this.

“If you let me focus, honey, I’ll be done faster.”

You were still for a moment, but then you nodded, and he thought maybe he’d convinced you. He didn’t look up from the screen, so he didn’t see how your eyes were narrowed. Settled. Determined.

You huffed, your lips pulled into a tight line. “Fine. I won’t bother you.”

You bounced up off the couch and disappeared into the bedroom, your robe slipping off one shoulder as you shut the door behind you with a click.

Bucky shook his head slightly and tried to focus back on his work. Twenty minutes, really. That was all he needed.

Successfully infiltrated building at 2200 hours.

His enhanced hearing was both a blessing and a curse. Inside the bedroom, he heard the unmistakable swish of your robe sliding down your skin into a silk puddle on the floor.

Subject was located in the northeastern corridor.

Then he heard the mattress creak as you relaxed back onto the pillows.

Agent Romanoff deployed taser #6708 to effectively subdue subject.

And then he heard that faint, telltale buzzing.

He bought it for you last Valentine’s Day— a little something to keep you company while he was away. Silky smooth and lavender, he’d used it on you that night, made you come so many times that you were begging him for relief, swearing you couldn’t take anymore. But he just pushed his cock inside you and kept using it, so he could feel the vibrations, too.

And now you were using it to spite him.

The buzzing echoed in his ears, and he grit his teeth as his cock grew heavy, filling and swelling until it was straining against his jeans.

Subject was restrained and relocated to interrogation area.

The tiny hairs at the nape of his neck stood straight out when, almost so quietly that even he didn’t hear it, you gasped. That tiny little gasp when you touched the toy to your clit for the first time, overwhelmed by sensation, sent his heart rate through the roof and made his cock throb.

That was it, he couldn’t— he couldn’t— Bucky slammed the laptop shut and stood up, tried to keep his gait steady on his way to the bedroom despite how he wanted to sprint. He twisted the doorknob, but it nearly snapped off in his hand because the damn thing didn’t budge.

You had locked the fucking door.

“Open up, sweets,” he said, his low voice shaking slightly despite how he tried to level it.

“I’m busy—!” you called, and yeah, no shit, but Bucky’s heart pounded when your breathy voice was sucked up into a gasp—

He hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets, trying to stand firm, but he let out a sharp exhale and swayed slightly when the stretched fabric applied pressure against his cock. He instantly wanted to do it again, just a little stretch, but no— “Okay, honey, I get it, I’m sorry— now open the door.”

But you ignored him, the buzz differing in pitch as you worked over your clit in slow circles. He knew how you liked it, knew exactly what you were doing to make your heart rate speed and your toes wriggle against the sheets. And fuck, he should be the one doing that to you, not a stupid toy—

Maybe he should just unzip his jeans, pull himself out and stroke in time with your breaths. He knew what you felt like, could picture you perfectly. You’d sent him those videos all goddamn week, knowing he couldn’t do anything about how hard they made him. Some with the toy and some without, some fully nude, and one just of your face as you played with yourself under the band of your sleep shorts.

That video was the worst— best— most torturous one. Because he could almost see you underneath him, squirming and moaning so pretty while his hand did that to you. He leaned up close against the doorframe to listen to you.

You hummed, a deep, throaty sound, and he could find a key, probably. It had to be around here somewhere— a kitchen drawer, maybe.

“Sweetheart.”

You moaned his name in response, and maybe Bucky would just break the whole fucking door down instead.

He tried to growl your name, but it came out more like a whimper as he palmed at the front of his jeans. His voice broke slightly when he spoke again. “Please.”

A soft click, and the buzzing stopped. Yes. Bucky stood up tall, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he heard soft footsteps crossing the floor. You turned the lock, and the door swung open in front of him.

There you were. Better than any picture or video you could send, flushed and radiating heat, his eyes swept over the smooth expanse of your bare skin. But only for a moment, because he’d waited long enough— he grabbed you and barreled you backwards onto the bed. He landed on top of you gently, caging his arms around your head and supporting his weight on his elbows.

“You’re horrible, you know that?” he grumbled against your jaw. You just smiled cheekily and reached down to undo his jeans. You tugged them down just a bit, not enough, and traced your fingers along his boxer-clad length. His cock twitched, pressing into your palm, and you grinned wickedly.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you simpered. “You’re so hard. Was that because of me?”

He nodded against your shoulder and pushed his hips against your hand again. “God, I missed you,” he breathed against your neck.

“I missed you, too,” you said. “Did you like the videos?”

Of course he did, you knew that, but he didn’t have a chance to answer before you hooked your thumbs in his waistband and pushed his jeans and boxers out of the way. He kicked them off at the foot of the bed, trembling above you as you stroked him— gentle at first, your light touch moving slowly along his length. But you picked up speed, and no, this wasn’t teasing, wasn’t even foreplay anymore— you had a goal in mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and panted through his open mouth. Maybe it would be okay. He could come now, and with his super soldier recovery time he could just go down on you for a couple minutes and be ready to go again. He could come. He was gonna co—

“What the fuck,” he hissed. The heat, the pressure, the friction had abandoned him, leaving his cock twitching and dripping precum onto your belly. His eyes flew open to meet yours— he should’ve known, should’ve seen your wicked grin and the mischief in your eyes. You pushed him off of you, pressing at his shoulders until he was up on his knees between your legs. A fresh bead of precum drooled from his slit when he watched you lay back, pick up your vibrator again, and touch it softly to your clit.

“Like I said,” you breathed. “I’m busy.”

What the fuck. Was he supposed to—? Should he—? He could just do it, he could just wrap his right hand around his cock and give himself a few firm strokes, that’s all he’d need to make a mess all over your skin, paint that fucking vibrator white. You met his eyes and you knew, you could see him struggling, but your face scrunched up in pleasure—

No, no, no, you couldn’t do that— he’d waited this fucking long— he might just die if you came without him, just within reach but still not on his cock, fluttering and clenching around him—

“Baby, please— you can’t—” He couldn’t touch himself, he couldn’t touch you— he dug his fingers into his own thighs.

“I can’t what?” Your words were a challenge even as your muscles trembled. You lifted your legs slightly as your hips shifted against the vibrator, and Bucky could only stare down at your core and groan. So fucking wet, dripping a puddle onto the sheets— his eyes flew up to yours, his desperation clear across his face, and you smirked. “I can,” you said. “But I won’t. Get up here.”

Bucky was on you in an instant, kissing up your jaw until he captured your lips with his. His leaking cock slid against your thigh and shit, that was good, but this was better— you reached down and gripped him, rubbing his head slowly along your slit. You lined him up, but you hissed when his hips jerked forward on their own accord, pushing several inches into you.

“Fuck, m’sorry—” He winced and pressed his lips to your cheek, pausing for a moment. He was usually good about taking it slow, letting you acclimate to his size— the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. But you grit your teeth and dug your nails into the sides of his ass, pulling at him, urging him deeper.

“Oh— you’re— you’re desperate too— huh?” he panted above you, trying to tease but absolutely failing with how ragged his breaths were. He pushed in an inch at a time, each motion causing you to suck in your breath and squeeze your eyes shut, but a smile had formed on your lips.

He let out a long, low groan when he was fully sheathed inside of you. He was about to start moving, but—

“Shit,” he hissed, because he felt you flutter around him once, twice— “You close already, honey? Holy hell.” That vibrator was magic—

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you said, but then you whimpered. “Wanna come, Buck.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice— he fucked up into you, hard, quickly picking up a brutal pace. You didn’t try to restrain your moans as you tightened around him, and the pressure was blinding, squeezing him and quivering until—

“Oh, fuck.” He pushed in deep and froze as the pleasure washed over him. His cock pulsed the first hot spurt inside of you, and you cried out, clenching down around him. His hips found an unsteady rhythm, his feet pushing against the sheets to try to get even deeper inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you fighting to catch your breath. Bucky chuckled lowly against your neck, and you turned to murmur in his ear. “Welcome home,” you said.

But a loud noise made you both jump— Bucky’s phone was ringing in the living room. Bucky groaned but you shook your head, laughing— and he laughed too when you pressed both of your hands over his ears, to block out the sound, and kissed him. Nothing else mattered. Not right now.

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