When You See “English Isn’t My First Language…” Just Know The Fic Is Going To Be Top-tier. Nonnative

When you see “English isn’t my first language…” just know the fic is going to be top-tier. Nonnative English speakers will always give a delicious fanfic.

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Insatiable 20.2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: When Bucky discovers porn, he hides in the gym and takes matters into his own hands.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. Explicit sexual content. Bisexual Bucky Barnes. Masturbation (m), hand job, crude titles courtesy of pornhub dot com, internalized shame, secondhand embarrassment, and a dash of Stucky yearning for good measure.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Okay, third time's a charm. To everyone who commented on/reblogged the earlier posts, I see you & love you. This is the last time I'm gonna mess with this, I swear.

All Insatiable entries can be read as one-shots! No plot, just porn. But reading the yhhmsgm series will make the dynamic/emotions that much better ☺️

No links here to try to appease the tag gods. You know where to find me 💖

“Oh, yeah! Harder!”

Bucky’s heart nearly stopped.

“Shit,” he muttered as he fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it in his struggle to turn the volume down. The nasally moans echoing through the gym faded until they were gone, and he looked around in a panic, a blush rising to his cheeks.

He tried to take a deep breath. He was alone. He knew no one else was there with him in the basement gym. But he didn’t know how the video could go from silent to that fucking loud, and now his hands were shaking and his heart was racing and god fucking damn it, his dick was hard.

Bucky was curious, that was all. After that movie he watched with you, with its tasteful but explicit sex scene, he couldn’t help but wonder. Sure, that one video he tried to watch so long ago was too much for him. Too overwhelming, jumping right past arousing and straight to uncomfortable.

But what if… what if other videos weren’t like that? What if they were more like that scene the other night that got him so flustered, so horny, that he fucked you into the couch until it skidded across the floor from his force?

He was just curious.

He came down to the gym to work out— honest, he did. But he couldn’t get the idea out of his mind, and when he finished his last set he pulled his phone from his pocket and sat down on the weight bench.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he pulled up the site. The ads plastered across the page were… jarring, but he swiped through the menu anyway, looking at his options. Deciding.

Wake Up Morning Sensual Sex

…That seemed like it might be okay. Bucky hit play.

Kisses. Caresses. Soft touches. A grainy video of a guy and a girl, average looking, the camera set up on their dresser as they undressed. Bucky could see them speaking to each other, but he couldn’t hear— no matter how high he turned the volume on his phone, it wouldn’t make a sound.

He didn’t have too long to worry about that, though. The video quickly got on with the main event, and he held his phone closer to his face as the actor slipped inside his partner, Bucky squinted at the pixels, as if he could force the resolution to improve with willpower alone— he wanted to see the expression on her face, wanted to see the point where they joined, wanted to see the way his muscles rippled as he fucked her.

But when Bucky looked closer, he noticed the little picture of a speaker with an X through it in the corner of the screen. Of course, he thought— it was muted. He tapped it to clear the X, and all hell broke loose.

By the time he got the volume under control, he was breathing heavily. The moans and sloppy wet noises had gone straight to his dick despite his panic, and it was half hard, tenting his gym shorts away from his body. He thought about running back upstairs to you, just for a quickie, something to make the throbbing fullness in his balls disappear, but no— you deserved better than that. You deserved to be warmed up slowly, to be touched how you wanted to be touched. And after what Bucky just saw, he didn’t have the patience for that.

He tucked his cock up into his waistband and walked carefully, casually, toward the bathroom.

Grabbing one of those lotion samples from where they were displayed along the sinks, he continued around the corner to the showers. He couldn’t turn the water on— that would make watching the video difficult— but the showers felt private, so he picked a stall and sat down on the dry tile bench inside.

He tried to get comfortable, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that what he was doing was bad. It was wrong. But he was alone, he reminded himself, and this was no different than when he sneakily used your conditioner in the shower upstairs when he didn’t want to bother you with his needs. It was okay. His soft exhale turned into a hiss when he pulled his shorts and boxers down around his thighs, releasing his cock from its confines.

He had only watched a few minutes of the video, but he was still almost completely hard. Of course he was. Greedy and insatiable, as usual. He squeezed some unscented lotion into his right hand and let it warm up in his palm while he unlocked his phone with his left.

He hit play.

Whatever primal, animalistic piece of his brain that he had muffled for so long was lighting up bursts— sharp cracks of fire between his synapses, under his skin. He didn’t know why he liked this, didn’t know why his cock throbbed or why the actors’ hushed gasps and whimpers sent electricity coursing through his blood. But he wrapped his slicked-up hand around his cock, and the sweet relief that rushed through him made him not care to find the answers.

He gripped himself tightly, his hand working a sharp rhythm and he felt each spike of hormones, each surge of heat that spread out from his hips toward the tips of his fingers. The precum that leaked from him only added to the glide.

Bucky didn’t stand a chance; it was over before it began. The man on his phone screen was still thrusting away when his balls tightened, and he rocked his spinning head back against the wall and shut his eyes as the pleasure took over.

He came with a grunt, his hips writhing, fucking up into his fist as he shot white lines across his sweat-shined chest and abdomen. The only sound he heard was blood rushing in his ears, and when he blinked his eyes open again, it took a second before his brain processed anything more than black.

When he finally came back online, he realized the phone in his left hand was still playing the video. He glanced at it, and oh— why had he let himself come so soon? This was the best part. He saw the man’s muscles quake, saw his cock pulse when he pulled out and came on her tits, and fuck— Bucky’s own dick throbbed in his hand to match it. He tried to squeeze it, to calm it down, but it still felt fucking good, and he wound up gently stroking it instead.

Up Next: Busty Blonde Gets 15 Creampies at Gangbang

He frowned at the thumbnail and hit the skip button.

Up Next: Tall Hung Stud Fucks Tiny Twink

Bucky furrowed his brow. He didn’t know what a twink was. He let it load.

Oh. Holy fucking shit.

His brain glitched as the memories loaded: Steve, in their old Brooklyn apartment. Steve, sitting on the fire escape in his boxers in the summer heat, the pale expanse of his back utterly feline as he leaned over his sketchbook. Steve, in Bucky’s bed when they were both drunk, their hands touching and exploring under covers and under the protection of being able to deny it in the morning.

Bucky’s nervous eyes flew up again, because surely this was a trap— surely this wasn’t legal, wasn’t even thinkable. But he was still alone inside that tiled shower stall, and the site promised even more videos when this one was over:

Teen Boy Fucked By Straight Friend In Elevator And Cums Three Times In A Row!

College Friend Got Him Fucked In The Ass

Massive Muscled Hunk Dominates BF

A notification appeared at the top of his screen, but he quickly swiped it away before hitting play.

“Oh, honey.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped open.

When did you learn to be so sneaky? Or maybe Bucky was just too far gone to notice your footsteps approaching. His hand froze on his exhausted cock when you stepped around the corner to peer into the shower stall, your hands on your hips and an unreadable expression on your face. Too late, he locked his phone and silenced the chorus of deep moans from the men on the screen.

A deep flush formed on his cheeks, spreading down his neck to his chest while your eyes roamed across his bare skin. He knew he was a disaster; his abdomen was tacky with drying semen and sweat, evidence of the orgasm after orgasm he had pulled from his body. How many had it been, now— four? Five? He couldn’t remember, couldn’t separate the blur of the last several hours spent in that gym bathroom. He scrambled for something to cover up with, but his shirt was out on the weight bench where he left it, and he couldn’t pull his boxers back up over the sticky mess he had created.

Bucky couldn’t meet your eyes as you looked between his cherry red face, his spent but still-hard cock in one hand, and the phone that he was hopelessly trying to conceal in the other.

“I— I’m s— I’m, uh—” He couldn’t string together the words, and even if he could, what difference would it make? What kind of apology could make up for the scene you just walked in on— your boyfriend, debauched and depraved, watching the kinds of videos that he still felt like he should be locked up for?

You moved toward him, into the shower. “You’ve had some fun, huh?” you murmured, and Bucky’s shocked eyes shot up at that— where he expected ridicule and anger, he only heard desire. Stepping between his spread thighs, you braced one hand on the wall behind him and leaned down to kiss him.

Goosebumps spread from the nape of his neck down his shoulders and back. He couldn’t quite kiss you back; his mind was blank with panic. He was dizzy. He was hallucinating. And when your free hand reached down to gently tug on his aching balls, he knew he was a goner.

“Still so close, aren’t you?” Your hot breath against his ear tore a whimper from his throat before he could bite down on his lip to silence it. You kept your cheek pressed against his, but he could feel you smile— and when you pulled away from him, he saw that glimmer in your eyes.

You sat down on the corner of the bench with one leg pulled up, your body angled toward him, and motioned for him to sit back between your legs. He wasn’t sure what you were getting at, but he still felt like a scolded puppy so he did as you said, settling his sweaty back against your clean shirt. He couldn’t help but flinch when you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tight; the idea that you could still want to touch him after finding him like this was unthinkable.

Of course you did, he tried to tell himself. You loved him. Even if he didn’t always let himself feel it, he knew that you did.

You sat like that for a while; just long enough for Bucky’s anxious breathing to slow and his head to clear a little. But then he felt your lips against his neck, your fingernails scratching gently along his thighs, and all he could hear was static.

“Put your video back on,” you murmured, gentle but commanding.

The static in his head warped to a sharp screech of feedback. “W-what?”

No, no, no, it was bad enough that you caught him like this, but now you wanted to see the video? He still had a smidgen of plausible deniability, the tiniest bit of hope that you hadn’t seen what he was watching, but if he turned his phone back on now, there would be no escaping it.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want you. He always wanted you. He just… wanted this, sometimes, too.

But you kissed just below his ear, at his pulse point— sexy, yes, but undeniably, soul-crushingly tender, too— so he gulped and unlocked his phone, lifting it to where you could see the screen.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to; Bucky heard your breaths quicken, felt your heartbeat pound against his back. The video had jumped back about twenty seconds, and he felt that fire mixed with shame as recorded moans filled the shower stall again. His body was still somehow, miraculously, infuriatingly, reacting to the video, and he shut his eyes and hoped to god that you hadn’t noticed his dick twitch.

Bucky nearly choked when you wrapped your hand around him and began to stroke him. He had been too wrapped up in his own shame to notice you reach for the lotion, and the shock of your touch made his hips buck up, thrusting into your hand. He couldn’t stop the moan that ripped out of his chest or the way his head fell back against your shoulder.

“Hold the phone up,” you reminded him softly.

Your grip on him was firm, your motions quick and precise, but both of you knew you wouldn’t be able to get him there after he had already come so many times. You eased your hand away from him and let him take over, his chest heaving as he pumped his cock almost frantically, chasing his release with abandon because that video was still playing, and you— you—

After just a few moments he shuddered and came with a choked groan, his mouth slack as he panted. The euphoria inside him was just as strong as the first time he came that afternoon, but his exhausted body didn’t quite have the range it had earlier; after one spurt that reached his chest, you replaced his hand with yours and milked the last few dribbles out over your hand. When he was finally spent, you released him gently and raised a finger to your mouth.

“Hnng,” was the only sound Bucky could force out, but you didn’t give him any more time to recover.

“As delicious as this is,” you said lightly, earning another groan, “I’m, like, actually hungry.” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek and shimmied your hips, asking him to move. “You missed dinner. C’mon.”

Wait— “What time is it?” Bucky’s voice sounded like he was underwater, but you understood.

“Late enough for me to come looking for you when you ignored my texts.”

Bucky’s heart dropped again at that, but you only gave his hip a playful smack to urge him to his feet. “You’re not… mad?”

You snorted. “Are you kidding? This is top tier content for my personal spank bank.” You grinned at Bucky as he sat up, but he only stared back at you, uncomprehending; either that wasn’t English, or his brain had well and truly turned to mush. “Speaking of that… I have an idea.”