The Sharpest Lies [Bucky x ReaderxSteve]

Sixteen

"I can't believe you talked me into this," you say with a laugh, glancing over at Steve when he leans down to tug the tickets from the slot at the front of the skee ball machine.

"But you're having fun, aren't you?" Steve asks.

"Yes, I am, even if it's completely silly for grown adults to be playing arcade games. Ooooo, cotton candy!"

Steve stifles a laugh and follows along behind you as you practically skip to the vendor and order some. Bucky had told him to occupy you today and when he asked you what you wanted to do, you said, 'I don't know, surprise me?'. So, he took you to Coney Island.

"So, it's silly for adults to play arcade games, but not to eat cotton candy?" Steve asks when you return to him.

"Hey, don't be pulling that kinda logic on me, buddy," you shoot back, pulling off a chunk of the sugar floss and popping it into your mouth. "You want some?"

"Absolutely not."

You stop walking to turn towards him with a coy smile, "Why not? Don't you like sweet things, Stevie?"

Tipping his head and running his eyes over you, Steve hums a little and says, "Oh, I love sweet things. But that shit will rot your teeth outta your head."

Pulling another chunk off, you stick your tongue out at him before popping it into your mouth. Amused, he nudges your arm and leads the way over to a line of pinball machines. "Now, these were always my game."

You lean against the side of the machine to watch him play as you finish your cotton candy, more than a little impressed with his final score 15 minutes later. He holds a token out to you and asks, "Think you can beat me at this one?"

"I doubt it. Pinball is definitely not my game." But you toss the cotton candy stick into a nearby garbage and step up to the machine. Three minutes later, the machine is flashing 'GAME OVER' and you shrug good naturedly. "See. Told you."

"You're right, you suck."

"Hey!"

Steve taps the glass. "It's because you don't have the right technique. But that's an easy fix."

Straightening, he comes around the machine, slipping a token in before he surprises you by stepping up behind you and fitting his body against yours, arms coming around so his hands are resting over yours on the buttons for the flippers. You squint over your shoulder at him and he gives you a wide smile.

"Eyes on the game, not me gorgeous," he tells you.

Snorting, but playing along, you turn back around to focus on the blinking lights. Resting his cheek against your temple, he says quietly, "Okay, your biggest mistake is just jamming the buttons all willy-nilly like."

"Willy-nilly, huh?"

Steve nods and pulls on the plunger to get the ball into play. Fingers resting lightly over yours, his breath dusting across your cheek, he murmurs for you to wait, your eyes tracking the little metal ball as it bounces around the machine. When your fingers twitch under his, you feel his head shake a little and he says, "Easy, sugar. Not yet."

"But the ball's gonna go in the hole!" you exclaim.

Steve chuckles. "No, it's not, just relax and be patient."

It slides along the path to the left flipper and just when you think it's gonna keep going, Steve's finger presses against yours and it goes flying. Bouncing off bumpers and doorways, the lights flashing and sounds buzzing as the score increases.

"See, you gotta be patient, wait for the ball to come to you before sending it on its way." He continues to help you, body warm against yours and voice murmuring in your ear the entire time—giving you pointers and advice. And sending little shivers down your spine.