bucky barnes imagines

lviii. FANTASY [smut]

A/N – WARNING: SMUT. Some Sub!Bucky. That is all.

—— ★ ——

It was three in the morning when Bucky awoke with a strained gasp, just as he did almost every single night. However, this time, it wasn't a nightmare that woke him, nor was it the vicious thunderstorm that had made it so difficult to sleep in the first place.

No, tonight his brain had chosen to spare him from the usual horrific illusions that plagued him; instead, it provided him with a different type of torture.

A dream about you. Specifically, a dream so steamy and obscene, Bucky wouldn't even be surprised if Satan suddenly materialised to personally escort him to the depths of Hell, because fuck, had he sinned.

After quickly glancing around the room, Bucky sat up and leaned against the headboard with a groan. He was as hard as a rock and, try as he might, he just couldn't forget the image of your hands all over him, your body pressed against him as his name fell from your lips.

It all felt so real.

Bucky knew that sleep definitely wasn't an option now, so he swung his legs out of bed and plodded through the corridor, feeling a little embarrassed. When he reached the living room, he sprawled out on the couch and grabbed the television remote, intending to watch a movie, or a series, or even the commercials – just anything to get you off his mind.

Twenty minutes later, he was cursing under his breath. The tent in his sweatpants was very much still there and, at this point, there was only one way to make it go away. He contemplated returning to his room, but what was the point, when nobody else was awake?

Tugging his bottoms down to his ankles, Bucky firmly wrapped his right hand around his cock, sighing at the relief it provided him. He began to move in smooth, languid strokes, his legs trembling as he swiped his thumb over the head. He thought of you again as the sound of his low whimpers filled the room.

⋆

You frowned as you wandered groggily into the kitchen, intending to find yourself a sugary snack. The loud, disrupting cracks of thunder had kept you from falling asleep, no matter how tired you felt – but now, as you paused with one hand resting on the countertop, a different noise filled your ears. A faint, rhythmic grunting, which seemed to be coming from the living room.

Hesitantly, you crept towards the sound, wondering if somebody was hurt, or maybe if an animal had somehow gotten into the tower. As you poked your head into the room, nothing could've possibly prepared you for the sight before you.

Frozen in the doorway, you couldn't help but watch as Bucky tipped his head back, his lips parted and his eyes closed in an expression of sheer pleasure.

And then he moaned your name, and you swore the sound of his voice, hoarse and breathless, could've been enough to make you cum on the spot.

If it was anybody else, you probably would've been confused, maybe a little disgusted, and you most definitely would've just returned to your room in silence. But this was Bucky – this was different. Arousal pooled between your legs and, before you had the chance to properly consider your actions, you found yourself creeping towards him.

⋆

Feeling a familiar pressure forming in his stomach, Bucky sped up his movements, gripping his throbbing length a little tighter as he subconsciously muttered your name over and over, like a prayer.

"Feels so good, fuck, fuck—"

And suddenly a hand was gripping his knee and his eyes were flying open and shit, there you were, right in front of him.