packs bag

Akko: Hey mommy, can you pass the salt?

Ursula & Diana: *reaches for the salt*

Ursula: *violent staring*

Diana: *sweats nervously*

Sloppy Seconds

(Bucky Barnes x Reader) x Steve Rogers

Notes: THE TITLE IS SELF EXPLANATORY, PWP, one shot, smut.
Established relationship (Bucky x Reader), unlabeled relationship dynamic, explicit sex scenes, messy sex, threesome, DP, the author is going to hell for this, her bags are already packed

Summary: You and Bucky head home, ready to place the finishing touches on your date night. Steve calls, and everyone gets what they needed.

A/N: I needed this, too. Partly because I’m procrastinating on another story I should be writing, partly because I haven’t posted any new fics in a while, and partly because I needed this. Did you need it too? Let me know what you think, and as always—enjoy! ^_^




Bucky held your hand gently with his flesh one, leading you down the hallway to his room. You were both quiet but giggling innocently. Date night had gone well. It was a simple night out—movie and a dinner. You always preferred it in that order instead of the other way around. Watching the movie first meant that dinner didn’t have to be rushed. But you two skipped dessert to save time anyway. The real treat would come later in the night.

You were back in Bucky’s room. The lights were dimmed and soft ambient music filtered through Bucky’s computer speakers. The mood was set just the way you liked it. He approached you quietly, eying you sweetly. Both of your clothes came off easily, and soon Bucky had you on the ground in the nest of blankets and pillows set up in the corner. He rested his muscular, naked body between your equally naked legs and leaned over you. Bucky peppered kisses wherever he could until he finally met your lips. He ground his pelvis against yours, feeling your pussy get slick against his cock without slipping himself in quiet yet. He wanted to warm you up first.

Off in the pile of discarded clothes, Bucky’s phone began to ring. Neither of you noticed until it stopped and your phone started ringing right afterwards. Then Bucky’s twice. Back to yours again.

Bucky grinned against your lips before getting to his feet. “Oh right, our treat.” His semi-hard bobbed from side to side as he walked over to the clothes and dug out his phone. It was Steve.

The phone rang again and Bucky answered immediately.

“Hey Steve, you ready to come over?”

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Oh hey, look at the dining room chair just gliding across the floor! Isn’t that a trip to the carnival? Fuck no. It’s time to move. This was the most egregiously perplexing part of the movie Poltergeist, when the reckless mom sees shit moving around the kitchen and she opts to pop a helmet on her kid and let her skid across the linoleum under ghost power. The fuck is your damage, lady?

No ghost ever starts by showing all his cards. They’re a crafty lot, and they’d much rather play around with you for a bit before they start their phantasmagorical squash match. It starts with a closed door and a creeper in the mirror and your stupid kid skidding across the kitchen floor like a dog with an itchy asshole. This is the ghost saying “Fuck it, I’ll give you one free shot to not die here.” Take that shot! It’s a gift! The ghost doesn’t care, as it’s literally got all eternity to make something happen. You have the better part of a week in which to live. You don’t want to double down on that kind of stupidity, so just pack an overnight bag, grab some road snacks, and leave. Forever.

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