The Sharpest Lies [Bucky x ReaderxSteve]

Twenty-five

One drink turned into two drinks turned into a third.

An hour and a half after arriving home, you felt more relaxed than you had all day. Though a part of that has a lot more to do with the two men you are sitting between than the alcohol. But you still had some anxiety over what happened.

"Are you sure I didn't–" you pause, waving your free hand around vaguely as you search for the right way to say it. "You know, fuck things up? Pierce is like an associate right?"

"Baby girl, I happen to agree with what Wanda said. Peirce is slime, and he deserved to have someone throw a drink in his face," Bucky assures you, for the dozenth time. "I'll pay him a visit tomorrow."

"To apologize on my behalf?" you ask, enjoying the way his fingers are tracing small patterns on the leg you have tossed over his lap.

"Hell no," Bucky says, looking away from the news that's playing to focus on your face. "To remind him what's acceptable and what's not."

Sitting up a little bit straighter, leaning towards him. You just aren't able to let it go completely. "But what if–"

Bucky leans into you, hand curling around your neck to pull your mouth to his, cutting off your question. You can't help but sink into the kiss, body buzzing happily with lust and want as his tongue explores your mouth. But when you shift, start to climb into his lap, Bucky gently nudges you back and breaks the kiss.

You look at him in confusion, and for a moment, Bucky's eyes flick over to where Steve's lounging in the other corner of the couch. As if what he sees on Steve's face is confirmation, he focuses back on you, rubbing his thumb down the column of your neck, and taking your drinand reaching over to take your half finished drink and set it aside.

"How about we put that side for now? Because there's something else I want to talk to you about."

"What?"

Bucky's hand squeezes your neck lightly, feeling the way your pulse jumps under his fingers. "How would you feel about doing something new tonight?"

Interest sparks in your eyes, and you ask curiously, "What kind of new?"

"I want to watch you come."

You laugh a little in confusion. "I don't understand. That's not new. You've watched me do that a bunch."

"I'm not talking about watching you play with yourself, baby. I mean I want to watch you ."

When he sees you still don't quite get it, he weaves his hand into your hair and turns your head gently until you're looking at Steve. Leaning closer to your ear, he runs his tongue along the shell of it, making you shiver.

"I want to watch Steve make you fall apart."

Steve is sitting so still at the moment, his eyes fixated on you, that he might as well be petrified. Bucky thinks he might not even be breathing at the moment. Wetting your lips, you shift a little, your thighs squeezing together as you ask, "You–you want me to have sex with Steve?"

Bucky's nose brushes against your neck, his breath warm on your skin. "Yes. But, only if you actually want to. You have to want it, malishka. Don't agree just because you think it'll make me happy."

You hold Steve's gaze, unable to look away from him. There's no point in denying the lust that's fluttering in your stomach, or the tingling in your pussy at the very idea. But, you still hesitate, nervous and not completely sure. It was one thing for Bucky to talk about being okay with something like this in theory, or even for him to be okay with what happened between you and Steve in the kitchen weeks ago.