#anastasiabvrnes fic rec | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years ago

Text

Mechanic Bucky to the rescue in more ways than one 🥵🥵🥵

Roadside Assistance

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pairing: AU!Mechanic!Bucky x Reader

Summary: After your car gives out on the highway, you call your mechanic, Bucky, to come help you out, but he helps you out in more ways than one if you're picking up what I'm puttin' down(;

A/N: I’m just in the mood for writing Bucky in oil-stained jeans and a too-small t-shirt tbh

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, car sex, pet name (doll), use of a vibrator

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Fuck!" you shout as you hit the edge of the steering wheel with the palm of your hand.

Your car had been acting up for a few days beforehand but today it finally crapped out. In the middle of the highway. An hour and a half from your apartment. On the shoulder of the lane, you sit in the dead car with your phone in your hand. You scroll down your contacts list until you reach 'Bucky- Mechanic' and dial the number. The dial tone plays for a few seconds before it cuts off, being replaced with a voice.

"Hey, doll. What's goin' on?" the man on the other end of the line asks.

"Hi, Bucky. My car just crapped out-- I'm on the side of the highway," you say, letting shaky, aggravated breaths out between your words.

"Ah," he clicks his tongue. "I'll be down in a bit. Sit tight, doll," he says, giving you time to say a short 'bye' before hanging up. Usually, something such as your current situation wouldn't get at you much but today was different. You had plans... with yourself. Truth is, it was getting hard to get off alone with your hands and even the showerhead. You'd tried everything, and, finally giving up, you'd gone out and bought yourself a little something-- a vibrator.

You had plans to get home and try it out, needing a well-deserved session with yourself, a successful one, that is. Bored of scrolling through social media, you remember to switch on your four-ways and lock the doors before climbing into the back and laying across the seats, planning on just chilling and listening to music rather than being cooped up in the front. Plus there was a nice blanket in the back, so that's a bonus. Resting your head on the seat, you scroll through your phone some more and edit your playlists.

—

You must’ve fallen asleep because you were woken by a thudding on the window above your head. You sit up and look around for a split-second to gather your surroundings before looking up at the sound to see Bucky standing outside your car. His hands darkened in spots with oil and his hair a mess. You rub your eyes and open the door, swinging your feet out onto the asphalt but staying in the seat. He steps to the open side of the door and drops to a knee.

“I checked everything while you were asleep; we’re not gonna be able to get this fixed before tonight,” he says up to you.

Well there goes your evening. You grab your phone to call an Uber but, judging by the very obvious battery flashing across the screen, it’s dead. You huff as you organize the frizz out of your hair.

“Can I borrow your phone to call a ride? Mine’s dead,” you ask.

Something flashes through his eyes as he stands back up from the ground, his height towering over you.

“I could give you a ride back if you’d like,” he suggests.

Your face heats up at the thoughts that run through your head on the topic of being alone in a car at night with your hot mechanic but you manage to fluster together a semi-smooth response.

“Wha… What’s it cost?” you inquire flirtatiously, stammering.

“Cup of coffee?” Bucky flirts back.

Okay, he was a lot smoother than you, but he’s a lot more than you in every other way, too. He’s taller, cooler, richer, bigger.

“I’ll take that ride, then,” you smile at him and he returns it.

1 hour later:

You wake up from your nap in Bucky’s pick-up truck and examine the passing road around you through heavy eyes. Looking over at Bucky, he looks a bit shaken. You might’ve slept through something but unsure, you decide to make sure everything’s all good and you’re not… well, dead. And, seeing as being in a quiet car alone with Bucky at night listening to Lana Del Rey would be heaven to you, it didn’t seem impossible.

“You alright?” you ask, concerned.

Bucky’s eyebrows jump and his face expresses 110 different emotions in two seconds.

“Yeah- yeah, why?” he asks, very clearly not alright.

He clears his throat and is eyes flick down at your bare thigh, exposed like much of the rest of your legs by the short black jean shorts you were wearing. You follow his freaked gaze and notice 2 small indentations in your skin that definitely weren’t there before. You could’ve scratched yourself in your sleep but surely it wouldn’t leave that kind of mark.

“Hm, alright,” you say. You know somethings up and you’re going to figure out what.

You watch him cautiously as he runs a hand through his hair, the metal rings wrapping his fingers reflecting the light from the early setting of the sun. He drops his hand back onto his thigh, steering with his left, and you look back and forth between his jittery hand and the marks on your leg.

Oh, damn.

You sit in silence for a moment, looking for other possible reasons for the marks on your leg but find none.

“Bucky,” you start.

“Mhm?” he replies instantly.

“We’re you… holding my thigh?” you finish.

He exhales deeply and slowly drifts onto the side of the road, thudding his forehead onto the top of the wheel, ashamed.

“I’ll call you an Uber,” he says into the wheel before reaching for his phone in the cup holder. You grab his wrist and his eyes meet yours in a flash— he looks disgusted, but not at you.

“Don’t,” you demand.

He holds the eye contact then breaks it, looking back at you quickly before peeling back onto the road. He switches his distracted gaze between your hand and the road as he watches as you keep the hold on his wrist and lead it back toward your leg. He stops his arm just before touching your skin before releasing and letting you place his hand on your inner thigh. His breathing quickens as he squeezes the soft flesh. This was the most wanted reason there could’ve been for the marks on your leg.

He moves his hand from your inner thigh toward your knee once you release his wrist. Guilt surges through you, yet there’s still a sexual tension building within the car.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry! I thought that was what you wanted, god, I feel like such a perv…” you sputter, holding your hands over your face.

Bucky smirks and glances over at you before re-fixing his eyes on the road.

“No, Doll, it’s not that. I just know that if we start now I’ll get carried away,” he says, consoling you, “Your place or mine?”.

“Yours,” you respond after a brief pause.

Your heart drops and you cross your legs to soothe the tingling between them— his hand follows and lands back on top of your thigh. The pressure on your heat allows you to feel the pulse around your clit and you huff out a quiet breath. Bucky notices your aroused state and removes his hand entirely, motioning to the backseat as he speaks:

“There’s something back there I think you might find useful,” he says.

You look in the back and see the hot-pink sex shop logo plastered on the black bag containing your vibrator. What. The. Actual. Fuck. This was literally your every wet-dream of him and more. The burning in your abdomen and pulsing in your clit is quickly forgotten as nervousness and embarrassment wash over you after processing the ordeal.

“I swear I can explain-“ you start out of genuine reflex.

“I wasn’t asking,” he demands, turning down the radio by a few notches.

The dominance in his tone makes you wanna cum on the spot and you reach into the backseat and grab the bag, removing the boxed vibrator and dropping the bag onto the floor. You turn back around in the seat and a black-smudged and calloused hand grabs the box from you, flipping it around and examining the features. Your toes curl in anticipation as you watch him tear the box open with ease, dropping the vibrator onto his lap. He tests the different speeds on the palm of his hand, switching his gaze between the toy and the road before setting it to 2/5 and handing it over to you. You place it on the seat beside you and you don’t hesitate to pull your shorts down your legs, dropping them onto the floor in front of the seat and pulling your underwear to your ankles. The vibrator rattles against the leather of the seat and you pull your knees up, resting your feet on the dash before spreading your knees.

“Don’t change the speed, I’ll be controlling that since I’m driving,” he remarks.

You adjust your position, feeling the cool air of the gentle AC hit your cunt, giving you chills. You place the vibrator on the outside of your lips first to ease into the feeling before moving it between your folds, moving it up and down against your clit. You moan out shamelessly and Bucky groans in response. Pressing it into your clit, you slide a finger into yourself and push up against your front wall. You curve your finger in yourself and pump it in and out, wiggling the vibrator around. Squelching wet clicks fill the car besides the quiet music and you moan again, louder than before.

Bucky reaches between your legs and grabs the glistening vibrator, increasing the speed by one click before placing it back between your legs. He holds it on your clit, moving it in a circular motion as he focuses on the road and palms himself through his jeans. You insert another finger into yourself and grab his bicep with your free hand, needing desperately something to hold. You feel your climax coming up and arch your back off the back of the seat. Bucky swivels the vibrator around faster and pushes it into your clit with more pressure. You moan out a string of sounds as you curl your fingers and bury them within your clenching hole, flexing them inside yourself as your high flows by. With one final, very lewd moan, you finish completely and push the vibrator off of yourself. Bucky clicks it off and drops it back into the mangled box, releasing a guttural groan as his hard dick tests the confines of his jeans. You drive for a few more minutes before he flips on the turn signal onto a side-road that leads to a hiking trail.

“Fuck it,” he says as he parks in one of the further spots at the edge of the woods.

Immediately upon parking, he smashes your faces together in an intense kiss. You separate your faces and climb into the back, knowing Bucky has to leave the car to get into the backseat. He chuckles and exits the car before re-entering into the backseat next to you as planned. You swing your legs up onto the seat and lay back, pulling your underwear back down— your shorts long gone in the front seat. He climbs between your spread legs with the door still open and reconnects the kiss.

“Mmph-” you try to speak as you push Bucky’s chest.

He lifts himself off of you in a push-up-like position and stares into your eyes, fear riddling his very existence.

“The door!” you laugh out, motioning to the open door, exposing your entire baby-factory to the wild and maybe a few sunset hikers. His expression relaxes and he shuts the door behind himself, now on his knees on the seat, situated between your legs.

Thoughts came and went in your head as you watched him carry out the mundane action— when you first met him, when he gave you his personal number, and the looks you shared with each other that one time your ex’s car broke down. You’d both wanted this for a long time and, thinking about it, you don’t really know why you restrained yourselves for the amount of time you did.

He leans toward your face and sinks into a kiss. You close your eyes and move your lips toward another, only to realize that he was gone from your face and making his way down your body. You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of his smirk just before the rest of his face below his eyes disappears between your thighs.

You gasp and lean back against the window of the car door, grasping at his hair with one hand and the head rest of the seat with the other. His tongue passes through your lips repetitively, forcing a warm fluttering into your abdomen. Your moaning encourages him to press his tongue into your clit, flicking it back and forth and your moans get louder in response. You tug on his hair harshly as he inserts a finger into you and pumps it in and out. He groans into you, sending vibrations up your spine.

‘Burning Desire’ by Lana Del Rey starts on the playlist, thickening the sexual energy in the car. Your head thuds against the window as you arch your back off of the door, feeding him. He turns his head on an angle and curls his finger, pressing his face even further into you, if that’s even possible at this point. You let out one final guttural moan as you clench around his fingers and forge your fist shut on his hair, your body convulsing against the seat as you cum. He rides you through your high, staring up into your eyes as he laps up the fluids dripping from you— your juices and his saliva mixing together. The wet sounds slowing as he lays a few more small kitten-licks between your lips before removing his finger and moving back up to kiss you. You breath heavily against each other’s faces as you swallow your tongues, pawing at every piece of clothing covering you’s.

He pulls his shirt over his head before sitting back against the seat and removing his jeans, leaving him in his underwear. You sit up completely and pull your top off, your bra coming off soon after. You both soak in the atmosphere: the music, the heavy breathing, the late stages of the sunset. You ogle his body, practically drooling— his toned chest and the point where his stomach rolls from sitting, the muscles detailing his large arms, the spread of his thighs along the seat— everything.

“You gonna lose those?” you ask, gesturing to his boxers with the very prominent boner pressing through them.

He looks up from your breasts to your face and his eyebrows jump when he realizes that he’s still covered. He pulls the boxers down his legs, dropping them from his ankles onto the floor. His dick sticks up and precum rolls down the side of the contrasting pink tip. He begins to move back between your legs, but you stop him by climbing onto his lap. Looking up at you with curious eyes, he places his hands on your waist gently. You move your hand down to your heat slowly, taking some of your arousal on your fingertips before spreading it over his tip along with his precum. He inhales shakily and straightens his back at the feeling, his eyes taking a weak, submissive look.

“You ready?” you ask with a small, empathetic smile.

He nods his head and you tilt yours to the side.

“I wanna hear it,” you say.

One of his hands roams up your back and rests on the back of your neck.

“I’m ready,” he whispers before pushing your faces together in a soft kiss, swiping his tongue along yours as you slide his throbbing tip between your folds.

You both moan out quietly as you lower yourself onto his cock, your rim stretching and your walls fluttering as he enters your body. The wet sucking of your kissing fills the car as you sit on his cock for a moment, wiggling your hips to adjust to his size. You rest your hands on his shoulders for support as you slide yourself up and down. You have to lean your forehead against his to avoid hitting your head on the ceiling.

You had waited so long for this. Too long.

The slow pace wasn’t cutting it for him anymore as he grabbed onto your hips and flipped you back along the seat. You gasp as he pushes himself back into you and takes what he needs— a lot.

“Oh my god, Buck!” you cry out.

He rests his weight on his forearms as you grab at his body, first his arms, then his ass, then his waist. Wet skin slapping and your combined moans cover the music, and the once-clear glass has been fogged up. You pant like dogs as you whine out every few thrusts, nearing your climaxes.

“Come on, doll. Cum for me,” he coos into your hair, moving a hand to your clit.

He toys with your clit as he continues plowing you, sucking intensely on your neck. You feel yourself clench repeatedly as stars form behind your eyes and you arch your back into Bucky as you cum. You cry out as he brings you down from your high, still chasing his own. The car shakes back and forth more intensely as he gives a few more hard thrusts deep into you before burrying his cock in you and filling you with his cum. He groans out as he pulls out, releasing all of the built up fluids from your hole out onto the seats. You moan as his tip pops out of you and the liquid seeps down your skin.

You sit up on the seat and more juices push though your lips, instigated by the motion. Bucky pulls his boxers back over himself and reaches into the front seat to grab a box of tissues, passing them to you to clean yourself up. The two of you redress and get back into the front— you climbing over the console and him getting out of the car to get back in.

“Let’s get back to my place, now, yeah?” he says, not much of a question, before turning on the car.

The headlights illuminate the woods ahead and in the grass in front of you’s, a squirrel sits— watching you.

“Pervert,” you and Bucky say at the same time.

You burst out laughing at the coincidence before he peels the truck out of the parking lot, still snickering.

You had been driving for just over 5 minutes before either of you said something, tuckered out.

“You think that thing works on men?” he asks, lifting his hand from your thigh to point at the vibrator box in the cup holder.

“We’ll have to find out,” you respond, interlacing your fingers with his.

#fic rec: bucky barnes #writer rec: anastasiabvrnes

5K notes · View notes

inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years ago

Text

Oh my fucking god I would have melted into a puddle of sin 🥵🥵🥵

Perilous

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: On a long flight to a mission with Bucky and Sam, you ask Bucky to elevate your platonic-hookup relationship into something more, so he does exactly that and then some… and Sam being so nearby is what gives it most of the fun.

A/N: I’ve been hooked on the plane scene from TFATWS since I first watched it and oh my f- When I say that this man is an absolute work of art, don’t doubt for a second that I mean that shit. Also, does the mile high club even count if you’re not on a commercial plane? idk, anyways, enjoy getting pounded on a plane by the White Wolf(:

Warnings:

• Thigh Riding

• Unprotected Sex

• Mild Degradation

• Minor Exhibitionism

• Manhandling

• Cockwarming

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Only 7 more hours.” Sam states from his seat at the corner of the plane.

He’s sitting on the same side as you, about 8 feet down the bench. You’re at a cruising altitude— no need for seatbelts. Across from you on the bench on the other side of the plane, Bucky sits, staring intently at the floor.

You watch for a moment, watching the way his tongue passes over his lips every so often, watching the crease between his brows deepen and soften with every passing thought, watching him.

You find the courage in yourself to peel your eyes away from him and over to Sam out of boredom. Sam sends a playful smirk your way and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Sam is one of your closest friends and you really connected with him after the Blip, hence why you were on a 13 hour flight to go kick some ass in Moscow with the guy. You all decided to take up Torres’ offer of taking you guys there in exchange for Sam flying over his little brother’s birthday party and maybe stopping in to mingle. And, hey, it beats the price of 3 commercial airline tickets and checked baggage.

Sam had known you had a thing with Bucky for a while now, he’s the only person that knows besides Zemo, apparently. Nosey bastard. You and Bucky had been hooking up for a while but kept it under wraps so that it wouldn’t blow back on you in the future— the less people know, the safer you are from blackmail. The only problem was that you were starting to see Bucky as more of a date than a hookup, and that was a problem that needed solving.

You flip off Sam in humorous annoyance and watch as he covers himself up with a travel blanket, leaving his head and shoulders exposed. He rests his head on one of the large plastic bins tucked into the corner where the bench and wall meet and closes his eyes.

You wait a few minutes to avoid being teased before you cross to Bucky’s side and sit beside him. He watches you cross but continues staring at the ground as you sit.

“I want to talk to you,” you say to him.

He looks at you from over his shoulder before looking back at the floor.

“Then talk to me,” he says blandly.

When Bucky gets deep in focus, he tends to come off as ignorant, but you know that he’s listening— he always is. But today you want him to respond.

“Buck, I want to talk with you.” you plead.

He sighs and rests his hands on his thighs, his palms digging into the muscle from the weight of his torso. He looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“I’m listening.” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him then relax.

“Bucky we need to bump this up or stop it entirely.” you say with a racing mind, hoping he doesn’t choose the latter.

He jumps his glance back and forth between your eyes before looking to the ground behind you. He thinks for a bit, each passing second making your body temperature rise by 15 degrees. He eventually looks back at you and sighs before speaking.

“Hon, I’m sorry…” he starts gravely.

Your stomach drops.

Fuck, fuck, fuck , fuck!

He grabs your jaw, making you face him. You feel the need to cry building in the back of your throat, making your face burn and your eyes water.

“I’m sorry we won’t be able to keep this a secret anymore.” he says before kissing you deeply.

You get into it and, out of excitement, the tears that threatened to fall out of loss begin to fall out of gain. Your whole body burns, only cooling where Bucky trails his hands. You climb over him, straddling his lap and he holds your hips to support you.

Eventually, he lifts one of your legs over his, leaving you straddling only one of his thighs. You look at him sort of confused.

“What? Nothing you haven’t done before.” he says as he bumps his leg on the ground, bringing his knee back up to hit you in the crotch hard.

You moan out just loud enough to be heard from a few feet away.

“Be quiet,” he chuckles teasingly.

You slowly start rock your hips back and forth on the tight-woven fabric of his pants. The seam of yours pushing into all the right points. With your hands clasped around the back of his neck, you start to lose the rhythm of your hips as you grow closer to your finish, pushing yourself down harder onto his thigh. His leg doesn’t budge as you push your weight down onto it, but he grabs you by the waist and brings you back to a rhythm. You release a string of moans as you start to build up an orgasm and you’re suddenly caught off guard by Bucky grabbing your face in his metal hand, squishing it up.

“Be. Quiet.” he spits at you through his teeth and he lets go of your face roughly with a bit of a shake.

You recoup and then your breathing quickens as you push and pull yourself faster and faster along his thigh before you’re stopped by a strong pair of hands gripping your hips harshly, stopping you immediately. His fingers dig into your hips so hard you swear you can feel them rubbing across the ridges of the bone below. You wiggle your hips around at the feeling, trying to break yourself free.

“Such a needy little slut I’ve got,” he starts before releasing your hips and undoing the zipper of his tactical pants.

“Since you’re so eager to get off, why don’t you help a guy out, too, huh?” he says suggestively.

He pulls his dick out of the strict confines of the tactical pants and strokes hit a few times, taking long, sharp breaths as precum oozes from the tip. He releases it and it falls slightly forward, still only a few inches from the blue jacket covering his abdomen.

You move an arm from behind his neck and wrap your hand around his cock, your fingers barely touching on the other side because of his size. He tilts his head to the side and watches your movements as you begin to stroke him slowly. You move your other hand from his neck to the muscle of his shoulder and squeeze it gently as you resume the rolling of your hips.

Your movements speed up in both your hips and your hands, pushing the moistened crotch of your pants into his tensed thigh and pumping his throbbing cock. You begin to pant quietly as you feel your orgasm coming back at full throttle. You lean your head forward against his shoulder as you begin to cum and he grabs your hair and pulls you back up to face him.

You let go and contort your face, thrashing your hips across his leg and squeezing his cock after one last stroke. He bounces his leg up and down under you heightening your finalé as he bares his teeth and lets out a small chuckle before squeezing his eyes shut and biting his bottom lip hard as you both finish.

You let go of his dick and plop yourself back onto the bench next to him. He goes to stuff himself back into his pants before you grab his wrist. He looks at you with big, curious eyes and stops all movement. As rough and standoffish as he was with you when you hadn’t had any form of sex in a few days, he was a real sweetheart underneath it all. Back at his apartment, he’s the most caring and gentle human being ever— making everything about you and just being sweet in general.

“We’re not done here.” you say with a playful smile as you pull his wrist, his dick following back out of his pants soon after.

His eyes switch from curiosity to lust in a matter of milliseconds and he wiggles his pants down his hips a few inches for some room. You climb over his legs again and situate yourself into a position where your knees are on the bench, your arms are wrapped around Bucky’s neck, and he’s supporting you on the bench by holding the points between your hips and ass on both sides.

You hover over his cock, gently brushing his tip against the outsides of your lips. He groans and pushes his head back but not taking his eyes off of you as you use one of your hands to push him against yourself.

“Put it in.” he demands through quiet and sputtered breath, baring is teeth and tensing his shoulders.

You smirk and slowly inch yourself down onto him before pulling him all the way back out very slowly.

He clearly has enough and pushes your hips down onto his dick and you moan out— quite loud actually. You both instinctively snap your heads over to Sam and watch him very precisely.

As Sam begins to stir, Bucky fucks up into you harshly and you bury your head in the crook of his neck. He grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you to look him in the eyes as you hear Sam moving more and more behind you’s.

Your anxiety skyrockets and the voice in the back of your mind tells you to cum before Sam wakes up and catches you and Bucky red-handed.

Was Bucky fucking thoughts into you?

The thrill of getting caught makes you even wetter than before and Bucky can feel your fluids dripping down onto him, getting cool before hitting his skin and making his face flinch.

He releases your hair and pushes your hips down, telling you to take over.

Bucky was a super-soldier, but that doesn’t mean the man can’t get tired.

You take the lead, rolling and rocking your hips against his— feeling him pressing around inside of you with every movement. He drags a palm from your ass to the side of your hip to be in reach of your clit and begins pressing circles into it with the knuckle of his thumb.

“You like knowing Sam is here don’t you, slut?” he taunts in your ear, his warm breath delivering shivers down the side of your neck.

You keep riding, taking it as a rhetorical question.

“Answer me.” he spits.

Your eyes jump to his in a mild panic and you blubber out an answer.

“Mm-Hmm,” you hum in response.

“What a filthy lady.” he says, squeezing your ass hard.

He looks off to the side before tapping your thigh.

“Get up for a second,” he says as his harsh facade quickly drops and his eyes return to normal.

You furrow your brows and shutter at the feeling of him slipping out of you, his tip catching on your rim as you stand. He stands after you and walks a few feet to a bin which he opens and pulls a thin grey blanket from. He walks back over to you and sits back on the bench, you follow suit mimicking your previous position. Once you’ve slid down onto him, he drapes the blanket around your back, covering you completely out of view up to your upper shoulders.

In flight blankets— more handy than one might think.

You grab the upper corners of the blanket and hold them behind his neck, leaning into him.

“Head on my shoulder and close your eyes.” he instructs.

You follow and position yourself accordingly. Bucky slowly rolls his hips into yours and you meet him halfway.

“Sam” Bucky calls out from below you.

What the fuck is he doing?

You hear quiet shuffling from Sam’s direction and Bucky calls out again;

“Sam!” shouts, raising his voice a bit higher than before.

You hear Sam sit up as your heart beats at a rate the feels like it’s gonna come out of your chest.

You can’t ask Bucky what he’s doing because your face is exposed to Sam and you get it now, he wants you to look asleep.

There’s an awkward silence between the two for a moment but you can feel Bucky do his little side-smile thing toward Sam.

“She couldn’t fall asleep over there. She said it was too cold.” he ‘explains’.

He slows his pace to deep pushes and you can hear him groan shallowly every time he pushes up against your cervix. You restrain the urges to move your face or hips with every thrust of his.

“What did you wake me up for?” Sam asks groggily.

He begins pushing his knuckle back into your clit.

“Just wanted to know when we’re landing.” Bucky responds into the quiet atmosphere of hushed air passing outside.

“You woke me up to know when the plane is landing? I fell asleep 10 minutes ago— you heard me tell her 7 hours, right?” Sam asks with irritation in his voice.

“I wasn’t paying attention…” Bucky starts awkwardly.

You feel Bucky’s pulse quicken against your wrist as he’s put on the spot. He ‘adjusts’ himself, scooting back against the wall and simultaneously getting the chance to pound a few into you disguised into the movement. You tense your face a bit at the sweet pressure of Bucky inside you which you play off as being slightly awoken.

“Don’t wake her up.” Sam requests and you can practically hear his brows lifting as he speaks, pointing a stern digit at Bucky.

Such a mom.

“I’m not. I know her more than anybody.” Bucky defends himself with.

Sam scoffs jokingly.

“You mean you know her insides more than anybody?” Sam kidds.

You feel Bucky twitch inside of you as Sam points out your current situation— unaware that it was actually happening in that moment right in front of him.

“We both know her the same, if not me a little more because of her insides.” Bucky retaliates, joking back at Sam.

You loved the friendship between the three of you. You could all talk to each other about anything and none of you would be bothered in the slightest. Sam accepted yours and Bucky’s relationship as did you and Sam accepted when Bucky dated Sarah, Sam’s sister, for a few months a while back. It didn’t end up working but Sarah was one of your other close friends and, as strange as it sounds, literally fucking recommended you Bucky’s sex as she was the only person who knew about your feelings for him since they split… and knew of his talents. Both Sam and Sarah knew that you and Bucky were not only best-friends but also hookup-buddies, and they didn’t judge you because of it.

They’re gonna like this news though.

“I’m going back to sleep. And don’t wake me up again unless we’re gonna die, only then do I give you permission to wake me up.” Sam chuckles before you hear him reposition back into his cat-nap.

“Such a dirty girl, pretending to be asleep while I talk to Sam any bury my cock in you…” Bucky mumbles into your ear as he picks up the pace of his pelvis again.

He presses a forceful kiss to the space below your ear, then bites the fresh hickey. Your mouth drops and hangs open as you pant, Bucky’s breathing speeding up with every thrust.

His cock hits all of the perfect angles inside of you, small amounts of your juices dripping down the insides of your legs as you meet him halfway, you riding him and him pounding into you from below. You can feel yourself moving toward your finish and you know Bucky can feel it too as you start to tense around him, your walls meeting the tightness of your rim as he slides in and out of you.

“You’re gonna wait until I say to cum, right?” he asks, knowing that you’re already aware of the rules.

“Yes,” you confirm.

“Yes, what?” he asks, squeezing your thigh hard enough to leave marks on top of the finger-shaped bruises left over from last time.

“Yes, James.” you mutter into his shoulder as your grip tightens around him with the pressure on your leg.

It takes a few more minutes for his pace to falter before he grabs your hair again, pulling your head back unexpectedly and forcefully. Your scalp aches and tingles as he forges his fist shut on your hair, knuckles grazing your skull as he stares into your eyes then forces a kiss onto you.

“Now,” he breaks the kiss to say before quickly reconnecting it.

You relax onto him and let your high take over as your hips convulse on top of him. The amount of fluids dripping from you increases substantially and it runs down your legs, leaving lightened trails down your thighs until they reach Bucky’s pants.

“G- Ahh, Doll…” Bucky starts before screwing his eyes shut and thrashing his hips as he pulls out and paints your old grey S.H.I.E.L.D. t-shirt with his cum.

Once you both come down from your highs, you realize that your shirt is very visibly covered in Bucky’s semen and begin to panic. Bucky tilts his head at it— thinking— before he comes up with the only viable option.

“Flip it inside out.” he says non-chalantly, shrugging.

“But what about wet marks? It’s a grey shirt, Buck.” you complain.

“If anyone says anything, just tell them they’re stains— easy.” he plans before pulling your hips back over his reddened and softening cock.

You look down at his actions, noting how the shade colour in his tip slowly lightens before he slides you back down onto him. The pressure feels comforting against your insides as you lean back down onto his figure, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Take a nap, baby. I’ll wake you up before Sam, don’t worry.” he says softly, running his left hand along your back as his right hand keeps a hold on your ass to keep you from slipping.

“~Don’t worry~,” he draws out softly before turning his head and kissing the back of your head gently.

Softy Barnes is back.

#fic rec: bucky barnes #writer rec: anastasiabvrnes

1K notes · View notes

inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years ago

Text

Poor babies! My heart hurts for them

Intervals

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pairing: The Winter Soldier x HYDRA!Reader, 40s!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You’re a brainwashed HYDRA agent, you’re the brains and he’s the brawn. After a considerably difficult yet successful mission, Karpov decides to provide you two an extended relief interval, but it doesn’t go as planned.

A/N: I'm aware of the fact that this fic sucks ass but I'm trying to make something that doesn't revolve around pure smut for once, so bear with me. I love the idea of how ruthless and primal Bucky would be in TWS mode and I’ve never really written an angsty smut before, or any angst at all for that matter. I also listened to ‘Bang and Blame’ by REM on a loop while writing this… i am fucking crazy, but i am free.🧎‍♀️

Warnings:

• Smut

• Unprotected Sex

• Mind control sex/non-con???

• Choking + hair pulling

• Angst + 40s fluff<3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

1988:

It was stressful but you got it done.

You and The Asset completed your assignment without question, to say without difficulty would be a lie. The mission was just another extraction of a high class broad with too much authority on her hands, but of course something had to go wrong. The Asset handled it before anything else could be ruined: he exposed himself and went for the kill while you stayed behind and disabled the silent alarms. Needless to say, the job was finished faster than expected.

«солдаты» (soldiers), Karpov spoke at the two of you, standing up straight with his arms crossed across his chest, 6 feet in front of you.

You don’t remember the trip back to the base, just the anticipation for your ‘relief interval’ in the chopper. After every mission, Karpov would provide you and The Asset a 40-minute relief period where you would be sanctioned into an interrogation-style cell. It being similar to a police interrogation room, there was a two-way mirror one one of the walls and an intercom that connected the two rooms. Karpov would use both yours and The Asset’s trigger words and detail you both the task of ‘помощь��, or ‘relief’, which was really just to allow you to express any stress through violent acts on each other but sometimes it would get sexual depending on the command.

«расширенньий помощь» (extended relief), Karpov states shallowly, sounding impatient.

You remain still, capturing and deciphering the information as well as possible reasoning and outcomes, just as you were trained. You can’t help but notice Karpov shifting uncomfortably back and forth, concentrating his movement around his pelvis. He’s horny.

I mean- you are the brains after all.

Karpov crosses his arms and pivots on his heels, walking away from you two. He waves two fingers in the air behind himself and four handlers, two for each of you, come to your sides and follow you behind Karpov.

You’re lead down a dimly-lit concrete hallway comprised of dark grey doors lining the walls several meters apart. You analyze every aspect of your surroundings, making subconscious mental notes of door numbers and faulty light panels.

Karpov stops his march-like pace in front of a somewhat-familiar door marked “193- РЕЛЬЕФ” (“193- RELIEF”), and you and The Asset follow suit, halting immediately.

Unlike The Asset, you didn’t receive the chair often. It wasn’t a necessary aspect of your training and maintenance, however, that doesn’t mean you were excluded from it. Whenever The Asset would act out, making up nonsensical stories about his supposed memory, you would be wiped, too, to ensure that you wouldn’t ‘go crazy’ as well.

The handlers push you into the room with zero defiance from either of you and slam the door shut behind you. Your eyes swim around the room, focusing shortly on bloodied handprints and stains soaked into the concrete walls and floor.

«солдаты…» (soldiers…), the intercom whines before Karpov’s voice passes through the static.

There is a pause and he stutters before he decides on a command.

«совокупляться» (copulate), Karpov mutters into the intercom before the sound of him shuffling and the whine of the intercom bounces off the walls.

Immediately, you and The Asset relax. Like a switch was flipped, you feel in control of your own body for the first time that day. You both take a moment to examine the other person before you start to peel off your suits. You’re both disarmed upon entry of the facility as it’s a hazard, so removing the leather covering both of your bodies is fairly simple.

You both drop to one knee the exact same way, untying your boot laces the same way, and kicking them to the side with the sides of your feet the same way. Your suit is a simple zipper up the side of the waist and down the arm after removing the numerous belts and satchels wrapping your hips, whereas The Asset’s is a bit longer. He has to unbutton all of the straps across his chest, then a ton of other bullshit.

With the leather outer layers slumped on the floor, you and The Asset are left in your under layers— yours being black boyshorts and a velcro and clasp sport-style bra and his being just a black long sleeve shirt and black boxers.

You wait for a moment, watching what his next move will be. As you suspect, he straightens his posture before taking long strides toward you, registering you as a threat. He crosses the room to you and swings at you. You duck under his fist as it forces concrete out of the wall and watch his stature, predicting his fighting pattern for a moment before hiking a leg atop the metal table and jumping onto his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his head. He paws at your legs and spins around as you apply pressure with your thighs, choking him out. He has enough and reaches above his head, grasping onto your waist and pulling you over his head. He slams you flat on your back onto the cold table and stands between your legs as he wraps a hand around your throat— the bionic one, to be specific. The pressure around your throat increases with every passing moment and you can taste copper in your mouth. You claw at his arm helplessly as you scan the situation for a way out. Finding nothing, you struggle in silence before Karpov speaks up;

«солдаты!» Karpov shouts through the intercom, not waiting for the electronic whine to pass.

The Asset stiffens, releasing his grip and standing with his arms at his sides and a straight face. Without thought, you do, too, sitting up on the table with your feet hip-width apart and your arms to your sides. Your mind runs blank besides the details of the room and the sounds of The Asset’s hitched breathing and the buzzing of the open intercom. You focus on the taste in your mouth and the pain in your head and throat. You want to get back to what was about to happen in pure need, but you feel out of control of your body again.

«совокупляться!» (copulate!) Karpov demands impatiently.

You and The Asset relax again and you feel disoriented. You don’t remember when or how you arrived in the relief room. You massage the bruising flesh and clear your throat, tasting blood mixing with your saliva.

The Asset leans closer to you, a dimmed, tamed tone in his eyes— as if he’s just a body and the pilot is on break. He shoves one hand onto your hip and the other on your waist on the opposite side of your body. He pushes both arms harshly at the same time, moving you into a position where you’re laying length-wise on the cold metal table, your hips resting at the very edge.

He stays at the side of the table before walking left toward your face. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head up to face him. He stares blankly at your face then walks to the other end of the table between your knees. You un-do the clasps and velcro of the bra, pulling it off of your body and tossing it onto the floor next to the table. The Asset watches as you prop yourself up on your elbows and his lips part with soft breaths.

He pulls the long sleeve over his head and drops it behind himself, revealing his scarred and toned abdomen, then pulls the boxers down swiftly, letting his boner free as he pulls them off his ankles. You watch the routine actions, paying close attention to detail, then with slight hesitation and seemingly lost in thought, he grabs the band of your boy shorts and pulls them off of your hips, also dropping them by his side. He roams his eyes all over your figure and runs his fingertips across the scars scattered periodically across your skin.

You look across the room at the two-way mirror, studying how the two of you look from the angle. He grabs you by the face and turns you back to look at him, scanning your eyes for discomfort. Coming up empty, he steps forward and grabs his dick in his flesh hand, giving it a few strokes before running the tip through your folds. Both of you furrow your brows before he grips your hips and slides into you, bottoming out immediately. His pace is quick to develop, pumping in and out of you with lewd sounds and stuttered breathing.

The sounds of skin-on-skin and whirring of the bionic arm fill the room, other than those sounds is complete silence. The relief period being the only break you guys get from cryostasis and missions, you want to savour it because you won't get a chance to remember it later on. The Asset maintains a straight face with drooping eyelids as he works both of your bodies. You look down to watch the movement with him, watching his cock disappear then reappear wetter than before with every thrust into you. You grasp his biceps as he hits your G-spot repeatedly, only releasing one of his arms to spread your lips. You press two fingers onto your clit, pushing it in circles. He grabs your hand and moves it back upward, then places his own thumb onto your clit, pressing it up and down. A warm feeling fills your stomach, making you tense your abs as you focus on the pleasure. You tense the rest of your body as you come up onto your high, arching your back off the table as you cum. Your hips raise as well, following your back, and he pushes them back down onto the table, holding you in place. His pace stays the same, swift and fast, as he wraps his bionic arm around your back and lifts you off the table.

He slams your back against the rough wall and holds your thighs to support you. He slows his pace to bury himself as far in you as possible with every thrust and you moan out. His eyes flicker up to face yours and he releases one of your thighs to wrap a hand around your throat. Your toes of the leg he released just barely reach the ground enough to support you so you don’t actually get strangled and he tightens his grip. Your grip on his shoulders decimates and you grab a thick fistful of his shoulder-length brown hair. You can already feel the tenderness in your thigh from where he’s holding you and you can predict where the finger-shaped bruises will be and how dark they will become. The metal of his fingertips scrapes the concrete wall behind you as pins you to the wall.

Having enough of the position, he keeps his grip on your throat and pushes you into the table. On your stomach leaning over it, you feel him grab your hips and re-insert himself in one motion. He pounds into you like that for a little bit, bringing you up to your second climax very fast. You grab the end of the table with both hands as you come up on another high, but before you can get there on your own, he grabs your hair with one hand and tightens his grip on your hip with the other. He pulls your hair so hard you start to get a headache but just before you do, you let go around him again, convulsing your body and screwing your eyes shut. You release a string of moans as you cum for the second time and The Asset groans deeply. That being the first audible sound he’d made all day besides telling you where he was headed on the mission.

His grip on your hair is suddenly amplified when he pulls his whole arm back, lifting your head from the table. As he fucks into your oversensitive hole, he gives one last big push into you before you feel him spilling his load into your abdomen. He groans with just a vibration, no sound, as he fucks his cum into you. Once he’s pulled all the way out you go to turn over but you’re stopped by his hand still in your hair. You look up at him to see mortified eyes staring down at you. You raise a brow at his abnormal reaction and watch as his gaze passes down your body.

Apparently, Karpov had caught on to something going wrong as he spoke up;

«солдат?» Karpov asks warningly and your mind blanks, waiting for a command.

The Asset, however, just stands there with a terrified look on his face as his eyes race around and his breathing heavies. He looks down at himself and his eyes widen, not only at the fact that he’s naked but also at the number of scars littering his body all over-- way more than yours. He whimpers out and you scan him up and down looking for the source of the sudden emotion.

«солдат!» Karpov shouts into the intercom.

The Asset looks over at the two-way mirror and absolute fear paints his face.

Karpov sighs through the intercom in annoyance before stating a ‘redress’ command and disappearing from the intercom.

You pull the boy shorts up your legs, not paying mind to the tear down the side that almost opens them up, then grab the bra from the floor and clasp it around yourself. After doing up the velcro, you see The Asset standing still, watching you with the same expression on his face. You toss him the boxers and long-sleeve shirt but they land on the table next to him. He watches the fabric land then probes it before pulling it onto himself. He stays standing, now dressed, and stares at your face, puzzled. You pull the leather outer gear onto yourself and do up the straps as he watches. He grabs his from the floor and examines the many rings and twists of fabric and leather, confused by it all. You watch him intently before three handlers kick open the door forcefully and head toward him cautiously and you notice six more standing outside the door, all pointing weapons at the two of you. You remain still and examine every detail of the situation, the number of spare mags in the handlers’ belts, the number of eyelets on their boots, the rust on the hinges of the door.

“I know you…” The Asset begins as the three handlers grab him.

You don't react before two more handlers enter the room quickly, holstering their weapons as they approach you. You remain calm as you decipher the faces and they grab you by the arms and lead the two of you out into the hall. You hear one of the handlers grab The Asset’s gear from the ground and slam the door behind themself.

Karpov is nowhere to be seen as the two of you are led into the large room containing the chair and cryo chambers. The handlers split up, leading you to a chamber and The Asset to the chair.

“I knew her!” The Asset shouts as he thrashes out of the grasp of the handlers, who all point their weapons at him in response.

«спутник» (‘sputnik’) Karpov says as he paces into the large room, hall, if you will.

The Asset collapses in response to the word and the handlers standing around him watch as he hits the floor. You watch in confusion as you’re shut into the chamber. The last thing you see being four handlers working to lift him from the ground.

1943:

The rooftop is cold against your clothed back. Your white blouse turned grey from the light rainwater trickling down onto you from above. The warmest point of your body at the moment being the palm of your hand, held by your Bucky. You would come up onto the roof of your building often with him, sometimes with Steve, too, and you would just talk. This time, though, it was just you and Bucky— crushing on each other since the 3rd grade. Steve had always cheered you guys on to become a couple but would shy away from the idea when you would flirt casually with each other.

“Steve’s gonna flip,” Bucky says in response to your new relationship, fresh out of the box.

“Mhm,” you agree quietly.

Bucky runs his calloused thumb across the soft back of your hand, tickling your skin. You soak in the silence besides the trickling of rain covering your bodies in a thin layer of water.

“We’re gonna have to change” you chuckle out into the quiet.

Passersby below you on the sidewalk bicker and cars whirl by as you relax together. ‘Happy Times’ by Bob Crosby plays loudly from a record player in the apartment below you.

“We could do that together…” Bucky proposes cheekily, rolling onto his side to face you.

“Oh, really?” you say with a smile plastered on your face.

“Really,” he responds.

You sigh before shuffling closer to his dampened body, wrapping an arm around him. He places an arm on your back, holding you.

“I think I’ll stay here for a little while more,” you mumble into his chest.

“Hm,” he hums in response, his chest vibrating under you.

You listen to the music and passing cars as the rain picks up a bit, wetting you’s more, but neither of you mind the rain.

And you’ll have your happy, happy times

#fic rec: bucky barnes #fic rec: winter soldier #writer rec: anastasiabvrnes

305 notes · View notes