The Sharpest Lies [Bucky x ReaderxSteve]

Eighteen

Monday morning found Steve in the complex gym at the bag, earbuds in, and music blasting as he worked the bag over. Neither you nor Bucky needed him yesterday, so he had done anything he could to help him forget about the line he crossed the day before. Nothing helped though, he still spent entirely too much time dwelling on the thoughts of you.

He'd even tried going out, seeing if he could pick someone up and while he had a chance–with an attractive red-head with those doe eyes he was normally a complete sucker for. And instead, he'd gone home alone. This whole thing was getting ridiculous. How had he gone from thinking you were just some attractive skirt that Bucky was wasting his time on in the long run. To whatever the hell this was. .

Sleeping last night had been a crapshoot, plagued by the thought of you before falling asleep and taunted by dreams when he did. So, he had gotten up an ungodly early hour and remained in the gym since. He'd run four nearly two and a half hours, used the free weights for an hour and had been at the punching bag for nearly an hour.

And it had done nothing to get you off his mind.

His phone chimes, letting him know it's time for him to wrap things up here, shower and head over to take you into work. Stepping over to his bag and unwrapping his hands, he studies just how beat up his knuckles are. Sighing, he tosses the wraps in his bag and heads back up to his apartment.

An hour later, he was pulling into the drive and heading inside. Crossing the threshold, Steve blinks in surprise at the music that slaps him in the face. Following it to the kitchen, he finds you. It seems you're making breakfast, and you're wearing what looks like one of Bucky's shirts.

The shirt covers your ass, barely, and you have the sleeves rolled up to your elbows as you stand at the stove. You've got your hair bundle up on top of your head, strands of it escaping the clip. You're in a constant state of movement, dancing in place to the music and occasionally singing along to the lyrics.

A new song starts, something that would play in a nightclub and you switch from bouncing from foot-to-foot and bobbing your head to rolling your hips. Steve's mouth goes dry as the pep talk he gave himself on the way over exploded into a thousand little pieces.

Jesus fucking Christ. He wanted you. Wanted to fuck you right there on the kitchen counter. Wanted to have you naked and under him as he fucked you hard so that you screamed his name. Wrap his hand around your throat and make you come so much that you can't see straight. Leave your skin littered with marks so every time you saw them until they faded you thought of him fucking you.

"Something else isn't she?"

Steve doesn't jump at Bucky's voice, but it's a near thing. Looking over at him, Steve just lifts a shoulder in answer. Bucky slaps a hand on his back before moving past and over to you. You lean back against him when his arms come around you, your head tipping up to him as he mutters something in your ear that Steve doesn't catch.

After a minute, one of Bucky's hands slides along your throat and he gives you a fierce kiss before moving back towards Steve. Stopping next to him, Bucky says, "Once she's dropped off, I need you to meet me at Stark Tower."

"Problems?"

"I could handle the Stark and Maximoff deal myself, but you're the best person for catching all those pesky details that I sometimes miss. So, I'd appreciate it if you'd be there."

"Of course," Steve agrees.

Bucky nods and sends another look in your direction before saying, "Take care of her for me."

"Always," Steve murmurs in response, even though Bucky's already likely too far away to hear it.

You order the music down, and turn around to smile at Steve. "Hey Stevie, you hungry? I made enough for you."