Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for six weeks, and sex is still a little clumsy and awkward. Until it isn't.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings/tags: smut; lots of giggly/clumsy sex; p in v; praise kink (kinda); dirty talk; one instance of pussy pronouns; marking (fingers on back, light bighting); sweat licking; bucky's a very very very soft top; bucky & reader are in a new relationship
Notes: i'm not sure what this is. just something i had in my wips for a while and i got random inspiration for it this weekend. giggly sex is fun and hot and giggly sex with bucky barnes would be even funnier and hotter :)
You and Bucky have been dating for exactly six weeks.
Not that anyone’s counting. (You both are. Secretly. Bucky has it written down in his notes app, you’ve been crossing off days on the calendar on your fridge.)
Six weeks of him tugging your hoodie strings to pull you closer when no one’s looking, of the kind of late-night talks that drift into early-morning ones. It’s kind of a precarious middle ground, long enough that you already know exactly how he takes his coffee every morning, but short enough that your heart still does that funny little flip when his name pops up on your screen.
Domesticity settled with a terrifying ease. You know the weight of his arm draped over your waist in sleep, and he knows you being too quiet during a movie watch means you’re already falling asleep, even if you deny it a hundred times when he asks you about it. In certain situations, words no longer need to be spoken. Quick glances exchanged across a crowded room say ‘get me out of there’ or ‘you look incredible’. Six weeks is enough to make that kind of familiarity start to kick in.
And then, there’s the bedroom.
Inside those more intimate four walls, the practiced cool of the last six weeks tends to evaporate. It’s the one place where the “newness” of it all still feels just as electric and charged. And, occasionally, a little bit clumsy. The breathless “is this okay?” whispered against a collarbone, his hands sometimes hovering a second too long, unsure if he should grip tighter or be gentler. The awkwardness of trying to be sexy while accidentally kicking him in the shin, or a stray elbow hitting the wrong spot.
Neither of you is new to sex, obviously. Bucky had his fair share of it back before the war, even if it’s been a few decades since he’s been properly introduced back into the game; and you also didn’t lack experience, with your list of boyfriends and hookups that never quite made you feel like you do now. But sex with real feelings comes with a whole extra instruction manual that most people don’t talk about. How two very naked people learn to fit their bodies together when hearts are involved, too.
You hadn’t imagined it would be like this, the first time. Or the second. That even Bucky, who usually moves with soldier-like precision, would become a mess of soft sighs and flushed skin, wonderfully undone under you, over you, around you. Every touch feels like a first (sure, many of them are), and there’s a tentative reverence to it, a mutual understanding that you’re both still learning the map of each other’s skin.
Tonight you’re in his bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand casts a soft golden light over the dark vibranium of his left arm, and your fingers are dancing over it to the rhythm of a song that only exists in your mind. Bucky’s above you, weight braced on his forearms as his lips press against yours in a filthy kiss.
Already, you’re both a little sweaty, a little desperate.
He shifts his hips, lines himself up and pushes in, giving you that little pause at the beginning that’s both him waiting for permission and also letting you adjust to his size. Both are a testament to the way he’s always a gentleman to you, even when you’re practically begging him to fold you in half.
You arch, sigh his name… and then his phone starts going off on the nightstand. Unbearably loud and with a very specific, extremely annoying soundbite: a loud air horn.
Freezing mid-moan, it takes you half a second to realize what’s happening before you snort so violently you almost choke.
“Bucky, what the fuck?”
Bucky drops his forehead to your collarbone with a defeated groan. “I’m gonna murder Sam.”
"Why..." You can barely get the words out through the giggles. "Why is his contact sound a literal air horn?"
“It was funny at 3 a.m. last month,” he mumbles. “I was half drunk on your martinis.”
You laugh harder, unapologetically so, and your whole body shaking with laughter does interesting things around Bucky that make his hips jerk involuntarily.
“Fuck, baby, stop laughing, you’re gonna make me…” he cuts off with a helpless sound as you clench on reflex from giggling.
He retaliates by rolling you both so you’re suddenly on top, all the while the sheet is tangled around his ankle like a boa constrictor. He yanks, pulls, then his knee bangs something and his arm hits the bedside table. The lamp on it wobbles and the low, dancing lights on the ceiling make the scene look like it’s out of a low-budget horror flick.
You both stare at it, wide-eyed.
“Don’t you dare fall. We just fixed the trust issues from last week,” you whisper to the lamp. And by trust issues, you mean that one time Bucky decided to throw your bra against the lamp so hard it fell and broke the lightbulb.
Bucky wheezes. “I’m being cockblocked by furniture and my best friend. This is rock bottom.”
You choose that moment to move, a slow grind of your hips that works wonderfully at making his eyes cross. “Technically, you’re cockblocking yourself. You picked his ringtone, Bucky.”
“I was clearly a different man thirty days ago. One who didn’t understand the consequences of his drunken actions,” Bucky gasps, hands sliding down your body and settling at your hips to anchor you, thumbs digging into the soft give of your skin as he helps you ride him. The air horn finally cuts off, and you lean down, brushing your nose against his, hair falling like a curtain around both your faces.
“Think he’ll call back?”
“Let’s not keep talking about Sam,” Bucky murmurs, lips half curled up as he moves with an upward surge, doing his best to drag your attention back to him. It works, because you sink back down, the laughter in your lungs turning back into a shaky exhale. It’s still a little messy, sheets bunched awkwardly between your shins, but nothing really matters anymore when the cool of his vibranium hand fingers your inner thigh, squeezes, then moves up your stomach, crawling over the skin, before it reaches one of your breasts and palms it slowly.
“You okay?” he whispers, voice dropping into that gravelly register that makes your toes curl every time. You simply nod, unsure that the right words can find you in time before you make a fool of yourself by only babbling some sounds. Your hips roll forward, Bucky meets you by thrusting up as you shift your weight to find that sweet angle again. Doesn’t take for you to find it, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails leaving its usual faint red marks behind. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”
The praise makes your breath hitch in your throat, because it settles just like everything else in your relationship. Sweet, slow, still new, a little bit unexpected. Like you still can’t believe someone like Bucky Barnes would look twice your way, let alone have him under you, in his bed, calling you beautiful. He looks at you with a quiet sort of awe that makes the words land somehow deeper, branding themselves into your bloodstream. His thumb grazes your nipple, and you arch your back immediately.
“Bucky… fuck, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep talking sweet like that.”
He chuckles, and pulls you down until his lips are grazing the spot in your neck where your pulse is hammering. “That is kinda the point of what we’re doing.” The statement is punctuated by a sharp thrust up that steals the breath out of you, and you respond only with a high-pitched sound that is definitely not a laugh this time.
“You always make such pretty noises,” he tells you, vibranium hand sliding up from your breast to cup your jaw, cold thumb tracing the line of your lower lip. His flesh arm fully bands around your waist and keeps you pressed flush against his chest, so tight you can barely move your hips. Six weeks is enough that you recognize this: he’s about to fuck you so good you’ll see stars for an hour after.
The bed beneath you creaks in steady protest as Bucky begins fucking up into you, his movements a little harder, deeper, eyes locked on yours as if he is memorizing the exact way you look every time he pushes home. Your fingers find the sheets under him, bunching the fabric until your knuckles go white, while your lips find his in a messy kiss, tongue, spit, some not-so-sexy teeth sometimes. Every time he hits that specific spot, your toes curl and you moan into his mouth, and his arm around your waist only grips you tighter. To this day, you still wonder how he’s been the first man in your life to find that spot so quickly. And how he sticks to it every time you make love to him, like he’s got a radar in his point pointing directly to it.
“Bucky,” you whimper, the name a prayer into his lips. You try to move, but his arm is solid around you, refusing to let you move an inch.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers back, shifting his legs so they’re bent at the knees, giving him a better angle to slide into your heat. “Just feel me, baby. You don’t need to do anything else.”
The friction builds, an electric coil in your lower belly that’s winding tighter with every thrust. Sweat slicks his chest where it presses against yours, a few drops pooling around his neck. Your eyes glint, and you consider reaching out and licking a stripe over him, but your mind slips. You hesitate for a fraction of a second, the thought flickering through your heat-fogged brain like a dare. Maybe six weeks is too soon to get a bit kinky? Are you still in the “best behavior” phase?
Maybe coincidence, maybe the universe giving you the answer you were looking for, you hear Bucky speak in a quiet tone, right into your ear.
“She feels so good around my cock.”
The words sound more like a thought he couldn’t keep inside than a deliberate statement, the kind of blunt, dirty talk that is too far removed from his polite “is this okay?” that you’re used to. But he doesn’t retract it, and your heart trashes. You hadn’t realized that Bucky, always-a-gentleman Bucky, had this particular gear in him, and it’s a revelation that shatters your “best behavior” hesitation. If he can say that…
You lean up, your tongue darting out to lick a salty, searing stripe from the hollow of his throat up to the edge of his jaw, right where beads of sweat had been pooling before.
Bucky freezes for a heartbeat, then moves his vibranium hand to the back of your neck and pulls you close until he can bury his head in your neck and inhale before his teeth gently dig into the skin. You moan, and he knows enough of you to know how good that felt to you from your sounds alone. A wall is breaking tonight. You like that. He does, too.
His pace changes, no longer steady, just urgent now, with the kind of friction that makes you see colors behind your eyelids, a building pressure that almost sends your heart beating its way out of your chest. The clumsiness hasn’t left the building; your leg cramps once when you move it slightly further away, he yelps when you pull his hair a bit too hard once (before asking you to do it again right after). But it’s part of the heat, now.
“Bucky, please,” you sob into the crook of his neck as the first waves of your orgasm begin to lap at the edges of your mind.
You’d been used to men who thought the word please meant faster, harder. Now you’re in bed with a man who knows a please when you’re right about to cum means keep doing just that.
And oh, he does.
“Look at me,” he commands, his voice thick. “Let me see you cum.”
You’d barely realized you had even closed your eyes, but you force them open anyway, vision swimming, only to find him watching you intensely, face flushed, jaw locked tight. And he keeps that soul-destroying rhythm that has your nervous system screaming until the coil in your belly snaps.
It starts as a low tremor that radiates from where you’re joined, heat that turns your bones to liquid. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and you sob, moan, maybe a mix of both, as a thousand golden sparks dance behind your eyes. All you can feel through it is the solid weight of him holding you tight.
Bucky doesn’t look away for a single second, because seeing you come apart is what does it for him, too. His muscles turn to iron, his entire body shuddering with beautiful force that has the bed frame groaning in protest. He thrusts one last time, buried as deep as he can go, and stays there until the world finally stops spinning.
When he finally rolls your bodies so you're both laying on your side, but still connected with arms wrapped around each other and legs slung over hips, he presses a soft kiss to your temple.
“You okay?”
You nod, still catching your breath. “Best sex of my life. Kinda also the most chaotic.”
He huffs a laugh, nose brushing your hair. “We’re gonna get better at being smooth.”
“Don’t you dare. I want more of this.”
His expression softens, something tender and a little awed flickering across his face.
“Yeah?” he murmurs.
“Yeah.”
He kisses you slow this time. No rush, just the two of you learning what this feels like when it’s quiet too.
my name is nelly, i’m 25, i’m from nyc & my star sign is a sagittarius
i have been playing the sims 4 for 7 years now!
my favorite pack is life & death ☠️
my dream is to be a sim twitch streamer/youtuber 👾
outside of sims i love reading, exercising, helping others & i’m a cat person!
my favorite foods are sushi, seafood & spicy jamaican food (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
about this blog:
i will be posting my gameplays, lookbooks,& anything i am interested in.
i started this blog so i can share my sims & meet other black simmers! 💚✊🏾
note: i don’t use any mods & or cc for my sims’s! i use mods to help me cheat the game. i play on my dusty laptop so please don’t come for me when it comes to the quality of the photos i upload☠️ im doing the best i can & i like the aesthetic of the photos tbh! * i did just switch my resolution to high so if the game doesn’t run slow, i’ll do that from now on *
connect with me:
★ discord server 🧇 (18+ only!)
★ black sims discord server (tba)! ✊🏾💚
★ ea id: badgalsimz
my gameplays (more to come)! 🎮
★ House of Specters
i’m looking forward to connecting with you all! ^.^
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