Oneshots | BEEFY!BUCKY BARNES X STUDENT!READER
summary:: You have a bio exam tomorrow and you're nervous.Lucky for you — your boyfriend knows how to get you calmed.
warnings:: 18+,smut,fingering,HUGE size kink,reader is not described as small...but it's hinted,CHOKING,praise,reader is stressed. Oh-did I mentioned that he fingers her with his metal arm? So i guess metal arm kink lmao,he calls reader sweetheart
word count:: 3k
A/N:: as another warning I would like to add that this oneshot contains a lot of biology phrases.(Nothing serious, it's basically highschool level tbh) So don't get traumatised.
The desk lamp glowed honey-gold against the dark blue walls of your room, turning the mess of biology flashcards into something almost holy. Outside, rain tapped softly against the window.
You sat on your floor in an old sweater that smelled faintly like vanilla detergent, highlighter stains painted across your fingers like bruises. Your notes were everywhere — scattered open textbooks, half-empty coffee cups, desperate little reminders scribbled in the margins,like remember ATP — adenosine triphosphate.
You were drowning in mitochondria, cell division, Latin words that curled around your brain.
Right...brain! Cerebrum or whatever.
Your knee bounced anxiously while you reread the same paragraph for the fifth time, lips moving silently.“Ribosomes synthesize proteins…”
Nothing stayed inside your head.You groaned softly, letting your forehead fall against the edge of the mattress beside you.God, you were tired.
A soft knock echoed through the apartment, sudden enough to make you jolt upright.Your pen slipped from your fingers.
For a second, your heart kicked hard against your ribs. You stared at the door, breathing shallowly while the rain tapped against the windows.
Another knock came,but slower this time...and familiar.You frowned, brushing hair out of your face. “It’s open,” you called weakly.
The handle turned and then he stepped inside.Bucky Barnes — loverboy.Tall, broad, impossibly solid in the dim yellow light of your room. His dark red henley clung to his chest from the rain outside, hair damp around his face, metal hand catching the low glow of your desk lamp.God,you loved that henley.
His eyes moved over the disaster surrounding you — biology notes spread across the floor, empty coffee cups, your tense shoulders curled inward like you were trying to survive yourself.
“I should’ve never given you that spare key,you scared me.” you muttered, dropping your face into your hands dramatically.
Bucky closed the door behind him with a soft click.“Nah,” he said quietly, toeing off his boots. “Pretty sure you’d be dead by finals week without me.”
You peeked at him through your fingers.“I’m serious,” you groaned. “I think biology is actually trying to kill me.”
Bucky hummed sympathetically as he crossed the room. The floor creaked beneath his weight.“C’mere, sweetheart.”
Your cheek pressing into the damp cotton of his shirt. His heartbeat was slow and steady. Nothing like yours.
Bucky’s big hand moved up and down your back awkwardly, like he was trying to calm a frightened animal.“It’s just a test,” he murmured.
You pulled back immediately, staring at him in disbelief.“Just a test?” you repeated.Bucky blinked once. “...Yeah?”
A laugh escaped you.“James Buchanan Barnes,” you said slowly, “if I fail this exam, my GPA drops, my scholarship gets reviewed, my future dies, and I end up living in a shoebox apartment surviving on instant noodles.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.“You already survive on instant noodles.”
You gave him a look“Bucky.”
“Right. Sorry.”He tried again.“You’re smart,” he said carefully, like he was placing glass on a shelf. “Smarter than anyone I know.”
You groaned, dragging both hands down your face. “That doesn’t help either.”
“Right,” he muttered under his breath.The room fell quiet.Bucky looked genuinely distressed now, metal fingers flexing against his knee. You could practically see him trying to fight an invisible enemy and losing horribly because the enemy was your nervous breakdown over molecular biology.
Back in the forties, he probably could’ve fixed things with a cigarette, a kiss to the forehead, and stealing somebody’s car.But this?Biology finals at one-thirty in the morning?This was defeating him.
Bucky sighed, a deep rumble vibrating against his chest. His large, warm hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers gently kneading the tense muscles at the base of your skull.“That’s enough, sweetheart.Pack it up. Bedtime.”
“No, no, no,” you stammered, pulling your head away and immediately throwing yourself into a defensive position. You slid back down to the floor, grabbing your ATP flashcards with both hands like a shield. “I can’t sleep. If I sleep now, my brain will perform a factory reset. Have you heard of sleep-induced information purging? Because I just made it up, and it feels scientifically accurate.”
His eyes stayed serious. He dropped down onto the floor beside you, stretching his long legs out carefully between the minefield of open textbooks.“You didn’t make up a science rule, you just drank your body weight in espresso,” he pointed out, gesturing with his metal index finger toward the stack of empty mugs in the corner.
“Look at you. It’s past two in the morning. You don’t even know your own name right now, let alone the... what is this? What’s a mitochondria?”
“The powerhouse of the cell!” you blurted out instantly, sounding like a malfunctioning robot.
“See? You know it,” Bucky nodded, nudging his shoulder against yours. His damp hair smelled faintly of the rain outside, but his body was throwing off pure heat. “But if you don’t get at least a few hours of shut-eye, you’re gonna collapse right onto your exam paper tomorrow. Your head won’t be in the game. I know that look. Guys in the trenches used to get it right before—”
“Do not use trench warfare as a metaphor for my biology final, Barnes!” you groaned, burying your face back into your hands. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway. My brain is vibrating. If I close my eyes, I just see chromosomes pulling apart. I’m losing my mind.”
Bucky watched you quietly for a beat, his jaw shifting as he weighed his options. Then, without a single word of warning, he reached out, scooped his arms under your knees and back, and hoisted you right off the floor like you weighed absolutely nothing.“Bucky! What are you doing?! Put me down!”
“Rescue mission,” he muttered shortly. He turned and carried you the two short steps over to your bed, navigating the cluttered floor with terrifyingly perfect balance, making sure not to step on a single notebook.
He dropped you onto the mattress with a soft thud, but the second his hands left your waist, you were already scrambling backward. Your hands gripped the edge of the blanket, your eyes darting back toward the floor where your flashcards lay scattered.“Bucky, I’m serious, I need to look at meiosis one more time—”
“No, you don’t,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. He didn’t follow you onto the bed right away. Instead, he stood at the edge, unlacing his damp boots and tossing them aside. When he looked up, his blue eyes were dark, fixed entirely on you. “I told you to rest. You’re not listening.”
“Because I can’t!” your voice cracked slightly, the sheer exhaustion and caffeine making you desperate. “My brain won’t turn off. I can’t just lie here and stare at the ceiling. I need to study, Bucky, please—”
“Sweetheart,” he interrupted, and there was a new, low vibration in his tone that made the breath catch in your throat. He crawled onto the mattress, his large, heavy frame looming over yours until you were pressed back against your pillows. He trapped you between his arms, his metal hand resting flat against the mattress right next to your head, pulsing cold against the sheets while his human hand gently caught your chin. “I know you can’t turn your brain off. So I’m going to do it for you.”
You blinked up at him, your heart hammering for an entirely different reason now. “What?”
Bucky didn’t answer with words. He leaned down, his damp hair brushing against your cheek as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He pressed a warm, slow kiss right against your pulse point, inhaling the scent of your vanilla detergent and sweet sweat. A soft, involuntary shiver wrecked through your body, your hands automatically coming up to grip the fabric of his red henley.
“Bucky...” you breathed, but it lacked any of the protest from before.
“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his thumb caressing your jawline. “Don’t think about the test. Don’t think about biology. Just focus on me.”His human hand slid down your neck, over your collarbone, and down to the hem of your oversized sweater. His touch was burning hot against your bare skin as he slowly slid the fabric up, his eyes never leaving yours.
Before you could even process the shift in the room's atmosphere, Bucky shifted his weight, sliding down your body. His large hands gripped your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he parted your legs, settling himself comfortably between them on his knees.
“Bucky, wait,” you gasped, your fingers knotting into the sheets. “The notes—”
“Forget the notes,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning across your inner thigh, making your toes curl instantly. His metal hand slid up to cup your hip, holding you perfectly still. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Just lay back and take it.”
The cool metal of his index finger brushed against your inner thigh, a stark, shocking contrast to the intense heat radiating from the rest of his body. You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tightening into the mattress as he aligned himself. Bucky didn't rush. He watched your face closely, his blue eyes dark and heavy with an intense, protective focus.
Slowly, deliberately, he worked his metal finger inside you.The sensation made you arch off the bed with a sharp gasp, your back curving as a wave of pure pleasure crashed through the exhaustion fogging your brain. The smooth, unyielding surface of his vibranium hand was completely different from anything else—perfectly sculpted, rhythmic, and incredibly precise.
“There you go,” Bucky murmured, his low voice vibrating right through your skin. His human hand remained firmly anchored on your hip, heavy and warm, keeping you grounded while his metal finger slid deeper, finding a rhythm that made your head tilt back into the pillows.
"Bucky, oh god," you whined, your previous anxiety completely evaporating, replaced by the overwhelming feel of him.
He flexed his hand slightly, curling his finger inside you to hit a spot that made your breath catch entirely. Your hips hitched upward instinctively, seeking more of the sensation. A low, dark rumble of satisfaction approved from his chest.
“I told you,” he whispered, leaning up slightly so his warm breath fanned over your stomach, his damp hair framing his face like a shadow. “Just focus on me. Nothing else exists right now, sweetheart.”
He added a second finger, the intricate plates of his hand moving seamlessly together.You reached down blindly, your hands finding the thick muscles of his shoulders, clinging to his red henley like a lifeline as he began to move faster, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
The slick, friction-heated metal of his fingers slid deeper, and your walls tightened around him in a desperate, subconscious reflex. A dark groan tore from Bucky’s throat at the sensation, his broad shoulders tensing as he felt just how tightly you were gripping him.
“God, sweetheart” he rasped, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly register that sent a shiver straight down your spine.
He leaned over you, his chest pressing against yours, trapping you beneath his heavy warmth. “Look at you.Taking me so good,bet you could take my cock”
Your breath hitched at his words, the blunt weight of them hitting you harder than the pleasure rippling through your core. You looked up at him, eyes wide and heavy-lidded, your hands gripping the damp fabric of his henley even tighter. The sheer size of him looming over you—broad-shouldered, thick-chested, and completely overpowering—made the thought of it feel impossible.
“I can't,” you gasped out, your voice cracking slightly as your hips twitched against his hand. “Bucky, no... you're too big. I couldn't.”
“Is that right?” he murmured, his gravelly voice vibrating against your lips as he leaned down, hovering just inches from your face. “Too big for you, sweetheart?” You nodded frantically against the pillow, a soft whine escaping you as he hit that perfect spot again.
You nodded frantically against the pillow, a soft whine escaping you as he hit that perfect spot again.Bucky’s smirk widened, a wicked, knowing glint flashing in his dark blue eyes. He didn’t slow the relentless, perfect rhythm of his metal fingers, but he leaned in even closer, the heavy heat of his chest pressing flush against yours.
“Don't give me that,” he rumbled, his voice dropping into a low, teasing purr that vibrated right through your collarbone. “I notice how you look at me. Especially lately, since I've grown more muscles. You look at me like you're drooling, sweetheart.”
The heat in the room felt stifling as a mix of embarrassment and realization washed over you. You tried to glance away, but the intensity of the moment held your attention, making it impossible to look anywhere else but into his eyes.
Gathering what little courage you had left, you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Bucky?” you whispered, your voice trembling, smaller and more fragile than it had been all night.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he rumbled, his gaze locked onto yours.You bit your lower lip, shifting beneath his heavy weight.
“Can you... can you do something for me?” You hesitated, the next words catching in your throat before coming out very, very shyly. “Could you put your other hand on my neck?”
Bucky’s fingers stilled inside you for a fraction of a second, the sudden pause making your hips hitch in protest. His brow furrowed slightly, his blue eyes searching your face, dark and unreadable.
“Why's that?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave, rough and careful all at once. “Why do you want my hand there?”
“Um... to...” You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, mortified but desperately craving it. “Just to apply pressure there. Please.”
The request hit him like a physical blow. You opened your eyes just in time to see the exact moment Bucky went completely feral.“Christ, sweetheart,” he rasped, his voice entirely ruined.
In a flash of movement, his large flesh hand came up, his thick fingers wrapping completely around the front of your throat. He didn't squeeze to hurt, but the weight of his palm was heavy, instantly pinning you into the pillows. The sudden, intense pressure against your windpipe sent a shocking jolt of adrenaline straight to your core.
“You want me to choke you?” Bucky growled, leaning down until his lips brushed against your ear, his breath scorching hot. “You want to feel how heavy I am? You think you're too small for me, but you want my hand right here while I make you come?”
You let out a fractured, high-pitched whine, your hands flying up to grip his thick wrist. You weren't trying to pull his hand away from your throat; you were just trying to hold onto something stable while your entire world spun out of control. Your hips hitched upward instinctively, desperate for the friction, your inner muscles squeezing his fingers in tight, frantic pulses.
“Yeah, just like that. Squeeze me,” Bucky ordered, his thumb pressing firmly against your jawline to keep your head tilted back. His dark blue eyes burned down into yours, watching your pupils dilate, tracking every flush of color on your skin. “Take it all, sweetheart. Don't you dare close your eyes.”
The combination of the restricted breath, the heavy, dominant pressure on your neck, and the wicked speed of his hand was too much for your coffee-addled, exhausted brain to handle. The anxiety of your biology final was completely incinerated, replaced by a blinding, white-hot crest of pure pleasure.
Your back arched off the bed, a breathless, choked-off cry catching in your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. Your walls clamped down on his metal fingers in a violent, helpless rhythm, milking him for everything you were worth.
Bucky let out a low, victorious sound, keeping his hand firm on your neck for a few seconds longer, riding out the peak of your climax with you until your hips finally stopped trembling and slumped back into the sheets.Slowly he slid his fingers out of you, the sudden absence leaving you feeling completely breathless and empty.
He released the pressure on your throat, his large flesh hand immediately sliding up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear of pure overstimulation from the corner of your eye.
“Good girl” he whispered, his voice softening, though his chest was still heaving from his own exertion. He crawled further up the bed, pulling your limp, shivering body straight against his chest, tucking your head securely under his chin. “Next time, you're gonna take all of me.”
