Summary: You need help painting your apartment, and the weather and
Bucky Barnes are both hot. Sniping and sexy times ensue.
Characters: Bucky x Reader Word count: 3,220 Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY. Seriously. If you’re not of legal age, go
away, this is not for you.
It’s my first attempt at smut and smut is hard (no pun intended). Any advice and/
or feedback is always more than welcome.
After years of saving pennies, working multiple jobs, and one too many
nights of boxed wine and Ramen noodles, you had finally, finally, saved enough money for a down payment to buy your own
apartment. Sure it was small and on the top floor of an elevator-less building,
but it was yours, and that’s what mattered.
In a bid to save money like a responsible homeowner, you also decided
to paint the place yourself, and with a little cajoling and a little blackmail
concerning that time you filmed him singing ‘Beauty and the Beast’ while he made a PB&J, Bucky grudgingly agreed to help as well.
You feel the bass pounding
beneath your feet the moment you step out of the car. The massive house is
overflowing with college kids (and brave locals), stumbling around with red
cups in hand. You can see strobe lights flashing and smoke from the smoke machines
drifting out of the open door and you know that this is not the place you want
to spend your night.
“Smile, sweetheart,” one of
the brothers slurs as you wait by the door for your roommate, “you’re at a
Before you can retort, one of
the more sober brothers working the door shoves him inside. “Sorry about him.
He’s a new brother. They’re finally allowed to drink and he’s gotten a little
out of control,” he explains. “I was going to ask over or under but because
there’s vodka in your cup, I’m assuming over. Don’t tell me if I’m wrong.” He
holds his hand out for yours and scribbles a circle on the back with a grin.
“Enjoy the party.”
Painting a room and things end up in a paint fight
Between the seven of them, the Voltron team was incredibly busy. There was always training to be done, the castle to fix and clean, information to absorb, machines to build, fights to prepare for- easily two dozen people’s worth of effort split between less than ten.
However, once in a blue moon, certain conditions struck.
Projects were on pause until proper supplies could be found. Repairs were holding for the moment. There were no local distress signals, no messages from their allies. No immediate battles to fight, nothing they knew to prepare for.
There was always something to be done, but those tasks weren’t always the most pressing.
“This whole room?” Lance asked in dismay. He held the handle of his paint roller in one hand, the other sulkily pushed into the pocket of his jacket.
It was hard to argue the room didn’t need a good layer of paint. The previous coat was cracked and faded, giving the whole area a shabby feel. While nearly all of the castle was bare-walled, relying instead on the inlayed lights for decorations, this seemed to be some sort of fancy meeting hall.
It was the sort of place that hadn’t need to be touched up when they were only fighting for their lives. As they gained allies and prestige and took part in more political battles, well..
“Don’t dare to hate me so quickly,” he continues. “You might find yourself enjoying this situation a lot more than you anticipated. Lucky for you, I’m willing to be patient.” He grins. Leans back. “Though it certainly doesn’t hurt that you’re so alarmingly beautiful.”
I’m dripping red paint on the carpet.
He’s a liar and a horrible, horrible, horrible human beingand I don’t know if I care because he’s right, or because it’s so wrong, or because I’m so desperate for some semblance of recognition in this world. No one has ever said anything like that to me before.
“Honestly, if they’re not
wearing cinder block shoes then they have to be running some kind of illegal
zoo up there. There’s no other explanation for the noises that they make,” you
complain as you glance up at the ceiling. You’re certain that, one of these
days, the base between the two floors is going to give and your upstairs
neighbors (along with their fucking petting zoo that you’re certain has to
exist) will come crashing down into your bedroom in the middle of the night.
“They could be fucking,”
Taehyung offers as he flips a page in his Biology textbook, “they could be into
some really weird shit. You never know about these crazy college kids.” He
glances up in time to catch the blank look you offer and shrugs. “Or they could
have a petting zoo. I don’t know. They are loud, though. Have you tried talking
You sigh as you fold another
t-shirt and place it into your suitcase. “No,” you grumble, “I wanted to avoid
problems. I knew after the first day of living here that I wouldn’t be renewing
but I didn’t think it’d be this bad for the whole year.”