#YALL GET IT WHEN I SAY HES PRINCESS LEVEL OF GORGEOUS RIGHT??????

[just-null-cult]

brother @ me: why do you always draw bow man (noritoshi) with the most luscious lips? why do you make him look so beautiful??

noritoshi:

its bc he is beautiful. what the fuck i cannot stress to you enough how these two images are within the same 5 mins.

[carolmaximoffs]

heat

summary: the AC is broken, it’s summer in the city, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen that much of your roommate. (no powers/modern au)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: cursing, unprotected sex (pls use protection yall), s e x, dirty talk, 18+ pLease, overuse of italics bc i want people to understand that bucky is a Specimen

a/n: and they were roommates...no but you know that prompt that’s like the AC is broken and now we’re naked? that. this is that. 

@moteldwelling​ it’s not much, but let me know what you think? 

YOUR CHEEK PEELS OFF THE FLOOR as you turn your head towards the sound of someone approaching. Bucky stops somewhere behind you, poking a toe into your shoulder blade just to hear you yelp. You roll over with a squelch and a groan, glaring up at him from the tile.

“Scott can’t make it today,” He tells you, waving his phone at you before setting it aside. “Weekend trip with his girlfriend. Be in tomorrow morning.”

You make a sound somewhere between a retch and a pained moan as you sit up, accepting his outstretched hand. He’s in a lime green t-shirt, of all things, and you try to focus on that other than his tight, black boxers. Bucky had been living with you for a year and a half now, but you’d both tried your best to respect each other’s space. Hell, you’d even gotten to a point where you’d started texting each other about hookups so the other housemate could, quite frankly, get lost. This was a newer development - Bucky had brought a girl home one night, and while you could tell he was evidently good in bed, that was because she was so loud.

So, two months later, you’re sure to give each other a heads up. Which you wish he would’ve done two minutes ago because holy shit-

“What?” He throws over his shoulder, as if he doesn’t know. His shirt has joined his phone on the kitchen counter. You thank every deity you can think of that his (very toned, muscular) back is to you - your face is burning, and it’s not just from the heat. He opens the doors the balcony, and you watch him dramatically sprawl over the railing. Has his ass always been that tight?

“Nothing,” you squeak, following him outside. Bucky is a sight. He’s positively obscene - it isn’t any cooler out here, and he’s damn near glistening as he squints at you. You avoid his gaze, idly fiddling with the leaves of one of your plants. “Did you um...did you get in touch with Rogers?”

‘Rogers’, as in Steve Rogers: Bucky’s best friend since diapers. He’d moved in couple months back, a decision he was most likely regretting now, because Bucky had told you the entire floor was out. He tells you now that Steve is with his girlfriend in her very cool, very half-way-across-town apartment. At this information you throw yourself over the railing beside him. It pokes into your stomach at little, but it gives you the chance to stare into the street instead of at Bucky. He’s close enough that you can smell the copious amounts of antiperspirant he’s wearing (he’d thrown a stick at you this morning to wake you up, with the news about your broken air conditioning and also the sentiment that ‘men’s deodorant is stronger’). However, he’s not close enough to touch, until he pokes you, with his hand this time. You straighten, folding your arms.

“You’re soaking through your shirt,” He tells you helpfully, and when you drop your arms you realize he’s right. In lieu of the heat wave and lack of AC, you’d only worn a thin tank top and shorts. Now, sweat causes the fabric to cling to you, and you curse as you rush inside. “You could take it off out here, sweetheart, I’m sure nobody’d complain.”

You flip him off over your shoulder; he’d always been a little bit of a flirt, but sometimes you just couldn’t take it. Your cheeks stay cherry red as you slam your bedroom door behind you. Just as you’re pulling a sports bra over your head (you had forgone one earlier), there’s a knock. It’s Bucky, because who else would come to the circle of Hell your apartment has become today. His fist is raised to knock again when you open the door, frustrated.

“What, Barnes?” You snap, instantly feeling bad for it as his face twitches into a grimace for a split second. He manages to keep it neutral, even smirking a little as he leans against your door frame.

“I was just gonna tell you I didn’t...I don’t mind.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, blowing out an exasperated breath at your confused look. “Your shirt-I didn’t mind...seeing.”

Oh. Oh, and as it clicks into your brain, your first instinct is he’s kidding. As always. You huff out a laugh and make to slip past him, but a hand on your wrist pushes you back. Bucky levels you with the most serious expression you’ve seen in 18 months of living together.

“Y/N, I mean it. You’re,” He laughs, but not at you. “You’re gorgeous. And smart, and funny, and you let me stay at your damn place for way longer than either of us expected, and there isn’t anybody else.”

“Any...anybody else? What about-” You’re trying to remember his fling from last month, the one that had you crashing at Wanda’s for four nights in a row one week. Bucky is adamantly shaking his head.

“No. Nobody is you.”

Again, you’re struck with that damned ‘oh’ feeling. You gape, unsure what you’re supposed to do with that revelation.

It wasn’t one sided - part of the reason you’d let Bucky move in was because of your tiny crush on him. But Bucky was your roommate, your best friend, and some line in your head made him unattainable until-

“Oh.” And this time, it is breathed out loud. Bucky connects his lips with yours, gentle at first. Instinctively, you reach for his hair, pulling it from its loose bun and tugging just a little. He kisses you hard, then, one hand on your hip practically shaking with how hard he’s gripping you. You walk when he walks, shuffling backwards blindly until your calves hit the edge of your bed. He leans away breathlessly as your back hits the mattress, braced on his forearms. His long, dark locks just barely brush your face as he hovers above you. His eyes hold something darker you’ve never seen before, and it sends lightening bolts straight to your core.

“Is this okay? Can I-fuck Y/N, I wanted to-” Bucky doesn’t get to tell you what he wanted to do, because you’re gripping his shoulders and pulling him back in. He groans, hands twisting into the comforter by your head. Restraint.

“You can touch me,” You pant between kisses along his throat. “Please, touch me, Bucky, I need...”

You can’t even finish the sentence, almost light-headed, but you don’t know if it’s the heat or the sudden all-consuming feeling of Bucky. Bucky’s hips, pressed up between your thighs. Bucky’s hands, one flitting down to cup your breast and one tangling itself in your hair. Bucky’s lips, tongue, everywhere he can dip his head. Bucky’s knee coming to press against your core as he shifts you a little further up the bed. You’re no virgin, but your body feels electric in a way it hasn’t in a long time.

His hands hesitate at the hem of your bra, so you pull it off yourself. Ever the gentleman - usually. That gentleman disappears as Bucky practically tears your shorts down your legs, looking like a damn predator as he eyes your soaked panties. You hear yourself pleading, and he shushes you, pressing open mouthed kisses just under your ear.

“Don’t worry, princess. I got you,” Bucky murmurs. And gods, does he. His mouth kisses all the way down your body, pausing only to bite lightly at each nipple. Your responding whine earns you a smug grin before he pushes your panties down your calves. You feel exposed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, about to protest, but Bucky pushes you right back down. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Been thinkin’ bout this pretty pussy for so long.”

You practically cry at the words, or maybe it’s what follows them. A teasing lick, his tongue pressing flat against your folds from your entrance to your clit. Your hands scramble for purchase - one in his hair, one gripping a pillow behind you as your ankles hook behind his shoulders. The feeling of his smile sears itself into your brain before he devours you. A thick finger teases at your entrance as Bucky suckles your clit between eager lips, swirling for just a moment before he pushes in, knuckle deep. Fuck. You must say it out loud, because he pulls away to meet your gaze a little threateningly.

“You’re so sweet, baby. Could eat you all day and never get tired of it.” He whispers, sliding in a second finger to join the first. You keen, and once more you feel yourself blush. Nobody’s ever eaten you out like this, and Bucky knows it. “Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart? That’s what you needed?””

You squeal this time, a third finger stretching and thrusting with the others. You nod vigorously, and he keeps up that same smug smile as he circles your clit with his tongue. He keeps up a steady rhythm with his fingers, but you want, no, need more, and he knows this, too. His fingers leave you entirely, but before you can whine in complaint, you hear his boxers hit the floor. You keep your gaze trained on the ceiling, trying to calm your heart, until a hand curls around your jaw. Bucky makes you meet his gaze, pressing his forehead to yours. It’s a moment of clarity, and you feel him pulsing against your thigh, hot and needy like just about everything else in the room.

“Are you sure?” He breathes, and you whisper a yes; you don’t think it conveys just how badly you want him. He smiles again before aligning himself with your entrance, but the smile is deceiving: he slams himself home, tip nudging your cervix. Then he’s gone again, setting a much faster pace than with his fingers. You keen when his tip brushes against that spot within you, and he leans down to bite at your ear, being careful to fuck into that spot repeatedly. “Yeah, princess? Right there, is that it? That’s where you need me?”

You’re not even sure if your response is coherent, ears practically ringing with the force of your impending orgasm. Bucky slips a hand between the two of you to circle your clit with two fingers, hips never slowing. His other hand finds its way to your ass, lifting your hips just so. He swallows your gasp, and the moans that follow as he fucks you ever deeper. He kisses and nips his way along your jaw.

“C’mon, let go for me. It’s alright, honey, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.” And so you do, knot in your stomach breaking, body going limp. Bucky doesn’t stop; he goes faster, if possible, an arm under your shoulders and the other keeping a leg securely around his waist. He comes undone with a shout, pulling out just in time to spurt hot, creamy liquid all over your stomach. He has the decency to look a little guilty, but it doesn’t keep him from drawing a finger through the substance and offering it to your lips.

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters, but he is hyper-focused on you sucking his finger into your mouth. Just to tease, you keep eye contact with him, his signature smirk ever-present. “But you look so pretty covered in my cum.”

You bite playfully at his fingertip in response, earning you a sharp tug of your hair. You’re sweat-slick and boneless, but you don’t even notice the heat anymore. Bucky clambers off the bed. You hear water running, and he returns with a washcloth. The gentleman has returned as he cleans you up and then himself, tossing the cloth into the hamper. You scoot over as much as you can, and he promptly collapses beside you. It’s not the first time you’ve shared a bed, but you are suddenly very aware that Bucky is as naked as the day he was born. With his eyes closed, you take the moment to observe him.

“Creeper.” He mumbles. You make to push him further away, but he grabs your hand instead, entwining your fingers together. Bucky opens his eyes, blinking lazily at you. “I really do want to take you out, Y/N. Wanted to do this right but...saw your pretty little tits in that tank top and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?” You say with a snort, and he shrugs, rolling over to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“Don’t care how you take it. Just as long as I get that date.”