bunny boy
pairing: bunny!bucky x puppy!reader
cw: hybrids, sub!bucky, desperate!reader, humping, thigh/ass humping, (accidental) mattress humping, coming untouched, messy sex, cum in pants and mattress, scent gland licking, no beta — (1.7k)
a/n: aaa im so sorry this is kinda wack, i got tired at the end bc i have so many requests to get done and dusted and im so so sleepy as of late :(( apologies for any and all mistakes <3
“C’mon, Buck! Just a little, please!”
your begs are futile. whines and cries aching your throat as you climb atop your roomie.
‘weekly study date’, Bucky liked to call them. a nice night within each other presence just getting on with work, talking, asking questions, helping each other out — in more ways than one, kind of like now.
Bucky lays on his stomach, overheating laptop propped up on one of his pillows, the fan whirring on like white noise. you situate yourself on the backs of his thighs with a huff, his soft coco powder cottontail poking out the seam of his jeans, wiggling with frustration and anxiety.
the deadline was edging closer and closer, the tick of the timer, an unwavering hassle, ran through his mind with each passing minute, a taunt to his poor conscious. he hates how warm you feel on his thighs, your whines make his lungs tight and ribs ache with want. he’s never been so happy that he’s sitting on his tummy, strained chub hidden, sandwiched between him and the mattress like a dirty little secret. what he thought was an easy fix by trapping the problem against his waistband, only came back to bite (or, in this case, hump) him in the ass.
bucky’s face flushes red, a soft strain leaking darker and darker the more you wiggle into his ass. he can feel the pink seeping through his skin like spilled ink, cramping his muscles, flowing to the tips of his floppy little ears, down his neck, and to his chest, where it finally takes home.
a want — a need — so desperate, so mutually assured, he can barely hold onto himself.
he knows how worked up you can get, especially during stressful situations. your body seems to be pavlov’d, clit aching and sore, all the tension building from work sneaking deeper and deeper into your core until it manifests into heat. a natural stress relief, they say. masturbation, sex even, was perfect for that.
“awh, c’mon pup, I gotta get this done in like,” his eyes flash to the clock in the corner of his screen, teeth blanching the soft skin of his bottom lip. He lets out a whispered curse, whiny and skittish — the perfect pitch to send your urges tumbling to a full landslide. his poor heart beat firm in his chest, its a wonder you don’t even feel it, and if you do you’re too worked up in your own little boisterous bubble to notice. “Two hours! Two hours, and then it’s done, i swear! J-Jus’ lemme, ohh—“
what bucky never takes in mind at these times is two hours in your little head is a lifetime. two hours of weekdays spent sitting around, head tilted, sitting patiently at the door waiting for your roomie to come back. two hours of whining and yapping until your bunny boy finally gives in and lets you use him however you like.
“thats too looong!” you exclaimed, shuffling yourself against his legs again. too consumed by your own worries to realise you’re carelessly bucking his hips into the mattress below, his poor aching cock rutting into the belt of his jeans, sensitive as ever.
bucky curses himself for trying to fix it earlier, he can feel himself leaking, sticky and warm all over his happytrail. the bunny knows he can easily turn over and give you exactly what you crave — quickly rutting into you with all his might, all gasping breaths and sticky air — but theres something about the need. the way you’re touching him without any knowledge, the way his pre soaks the duvet and his shirt with a hunger so sharp, it knots his stomach over and over again.
“pup, can’t you just… ohh fu-uck” the devil on his shoulder was overriding the angel, temptation growing with every carnal push you give. paws poking at his little tail, making it wag with impatience (and pent up horniness).
your ears perk up at his murmurs and whines, head tilted softly with his sounds. the coil, the desire, knots inside of you.
the insides of your thighs tingle, chest burning as your nipples perk behind your bra. you cant help but feel powerful in your position — atop your bunny, groin to his ass, already rocking back and forth — you take advantage of it.
you lean down into him, front to his back, his breath stutters with your motion, a startled squeak from his mouth. you hold him tightly in your paws, digging beneath his tummy to get better leverage — Bucky’s never been so glad you cant feel his sticky tip, just mere inches away, peeking out his jeans.
digging your face into his back, smushing your cheek against his shirt trying to capture his scent, swallow it whole, keep him all to yourself. his eyes shut tight with your hot breath searing through the fabric.
soft tufts of fluff on his spine dampening with each pant you give. “hngh— can… can i, Buck?” you don’t even wait for a confirmation, your hips move without hesitation. humping into his ass in steady motions, an easy tempo, grounding into him — jeans on jeans — the sound so blasphemously devastating.
“Jus—just keep on wi—huuh… with your work,” your breath stuck to his back like honey, warm and tacky, like nothing he’d ever felt before.
and your words, so naive and stupidly sweet. ‘keep on with your work’, as if you werent pushing his chub harder and harder into the mattress beneath you both. Bucky wills himself to keep quiet, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip to keep gentle pants and groans within himself. but dogs can sniff out almost anything.
“can… can hear you, Buck… you’re so cute, little noises—fuck!”
your voice, so breathy, so warm, buring on your tongue. the way your hips ground into his ass, fabric on fabric, harder and harder, faster and faster as you gripped onto his middle so tight Bucky prayed your hold left marks later -- a claim on yours, as if your scents werent already exchanged.
your words, your touch, you, spurred him on. rolling his hips in time with yours, keeping up with your pace. his scut wagged with his arousal, with each pump your hips gave, pushing his own down. the soft fluff of his tail skimmed your tummy, shirt riding up top of his back. the feeling hit your pelvis, his silkiness ticking your belly so good, your brain blanked — drunk on his tenderness, how lax he was in your arms.
you leaned your head up, face nuzzled next to his, your panting breaths warm against his blushing cheek. nosing against his velvety ears, you couldnt stop the whine from your vocal cords at the touch, "so, so soft, Bucky... can feel you in my tummy — so good like this..."
his body flexed beneath you, new spurts of pre coating his fluffy abdomen and sheets with a pitched groan, the kind that hit you both where you really needed, the kind that got your clit pulsing against the fabric, and his cock twitching. your hips kept moving, a desperate rut into his flesh like you're trying to fuck him, and he doesn't mind that one bit.
his mind blanked, stayed blank. the only thing passing his poor dribbling lips were feeble gasps and exhales, continuing to make a mess of his poor little mouth, so full of spit, he couldn't help but make a mess of himself as you used him up. until finally his throat and tongue caught up with his senses, working overtime to express, to show. "feels so good—!" a clipped whisper, a click of drool and hunger, but it made you so happy. hips working and working into him, thighs straining with an ache so painful it bordered on agonising bliss.
he smelled so sweet, scent extracting out his glands, the smell almost choked you. ripe plums, brown sugar, and a gentle earthy saccharinity of carrots. your body moves for you, burying your face into his neck, the warmth so comforting, his scent glands ooze with your presence, the perfume of him so hypnotising, your tongue lapped like it was elixir, some potion created only for you. so fucking sweet.
your core blossomed with his flavour, pulsing around nothing, aching to be full. the heady mix of your smells permeating the room. potent, bodies on bodies, salty sweat, sex and sugar. his taste seeping into your tongue like an injection, drunk on his aroma.
your hips began to stutter, digging into his own with such strength it started to overstimulate the poor bunny. wet and syrupy strings of prejack glazed the fur lining just below his navel. the muscles in his abdomen tightened, moans and grunted whines clipping with each buck you push into him.
“oh… oh fuck,” poor Bucky was drunk on the feeling, cock teased and humped into the springs below, ass thrusted into so impatiently. “P-Pup, m’fuck—!” the syrupy sweetness of his scent coated your tongue with a gush, almost a mirrored reaction to his poor chub below, painting the white sheets in a sticky mess, drowning his poor skin.
your own climax washed over you in a heated film, panting into his neck in harsh breaths. fucking into his behind, trying to elongate the pleasure as best as possible, rutting your clit against the soaked fabric of your panties, as if you can get any closer to the wrung out bun.
as you slowly came to, the haze of your orgasm easing your desires to a full stop, you slowed your motions as you noticed his nose scrunch up and legs wobble beneath you.
“oh—my god! Bucky, shit, im so sorry!” your voice high with empathy, real apologies on your tongue — the tongue that could still taste the perfume of him like you were still lapping. you quickly move off your roomie, exerting a deep groan from his chest. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
all the bunny could do was smile, tiredly and so amazingly dazed. he hides his face in the crook of his elbow, sweat slicked forehead to his forearm.
you watched his back twitch. laughing.
there was no way he could roll over now and reveal the mess. show you how you weren’t the only desperate one in the pair. no, this was something between him and the mattress. the perverse little rabbit was going to lay in his own cum.
