#collabs

Boyfriend. The word still leaves an unfamiliar taste in your mouth even after two months of official dating. What started as shared glances across the debrief table turned into sneaking off the quinjet and holding your own type of debrief in the bedroom.

As the post-mission fornication continued, you both agreed that it wasn’t necessary for the team to know about your budding feelings. Bucky commented on how the teasing would be relentless, especially from Sam and Tony. While that was a lingering concern, it wasn’t the main one plaguing your thoughts. 

Before you joined the Avengers, you tried dating a coworker. Mistake number one. Agent Liam Harcourt was your partner on every op. Funnily enough, your relationship started with sexual tension on missions and relieving it on the quinjet, back at the base, or anywhere there was a flat surface. Maybe you do have a type. 

After you two broke up, you tried to continue going on missions together. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end well. Fury demanded that you two get new partners after you ended up in critical condition because Liam wouldn’t shut up about your lack of communication skills when he clearly lacked them more. 

But you couldn’t tell Bucky that. Not only is it embarrassing, but this feels different with him. He’s tooth rotting-ly sweet and kind and sees you as more than sex. The possibilty of tainting this relationship with your past is enough to keep your lips sealed and nodding along to Bucky’s reasoning.

Is it wishful thinking? Probably. If your connection continues to grow, Bucky will find out eventually. Just not now.

Now, you’re gathering your things so you can get to Bucky’s room as soon as possible. Almost three weeks have passed since you saw each other, with Bucky stuck on a mission the past two weeks and you posted up in Madrid the week before. 

The fact that he didn’t text you right when he arrived at the tower truly does have you mad, since you could be in his room by now. His fingers could be tangled in your hair, the smell of sweat and gunpowder invading your senses as he leads you to his bed. Your clothes could be strewn across the floor from the door to the bed, like a breadcrumb trail leading you home. 

Whatever his excuse is, it better be a damn good one. Or else he’ll wish you didn’t come over at all.

Phone, check. Room key—yours and Bucky’s—, check. Water bottle, check. 

When you open the door to leave, you’re not expecting to see Natasha with her knuckles poised to knock and two floor length gowns draped over her arm. It’s so unexepected that you almost run into her, stopping just in time to avoid sending her and the expensive-looking gowns to the floor. 

“Nat. Hey, what are you doing here?” you greet, realizing too late how blunt it sounded.

And, of course, it triggers her spy senses, alerting her that this isn’t how you normally act. “Hey. Where are you off to?”

“I’m, um…” Quick. Think of something! “I’m going to the gym.” You laugh. “The grind never stops, right?”

The grind never stops? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?

She looks you up and down and narrows her eyes slightly, not convinced by the jeans and t-shirt you’re wearing. “Right… Well, before you go, mind helping me choose a dress for the Stark party?”

“I would but—”

“Great, thanks! I knew I could count on you.” She winks and slips through the gap between you and the doorframe, then sets the dresses down on your armchair. “Please don’t tell me you’re actually going to work out before the party.” 

The door shuts behind you as you follow Natasha into your room. Now you’re losing even more time with Bucky. “What if I said I was?” 

“Then I would ask what happened to the real you, because I know for a fact that you don’t work out unless someone drags you there and that you’ve been looking forward to this party ever since Stark announced it.”

Damn, she really does know you well.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going—”

“Where’s your dress?”

“What does that—”

“Where’s. Your. Dress.”

You bite your lip and focus your gaze on the tan carpet below your feet, fearful that she’ll find out about you and Bucky just by looking into your eyes. 

“I don’t have one…” you mumble, knowing damn well that there’s one hanging in your closet right now, covered in the protective plastic and everything. So what if you’ve been planning your outfit, practicing how to style your hair, even buying a tie for Bucky that matches your dress? You’ve been going crazy without him, literally counting down the days until he’d climb into bed and pull you close to his chest. Even if you’d been planning this night month in advance, you couldn’t say no to him when he suggested you both skip the party to spend time together. 

“What? How?” Natasha asks, incredulous. “Honey, this is the most excited I’ve seen you in awhile. How do you not have a dress?”

You shrug. “I just don’t.”

She steps closer until the tips of her shoes come into your view. “Hey. Look at me.”

After a moment, you sigh and lift your head. Concern is etched on her face, and you almost, almost, tell her. The guilt of keeping this secret from your best friend is eating away at you. As fun as it is sneaking around with Bucky, it’s less fun hiding a huge part of your life from a literal spy.

“What’s going on? Something’s off with you.”

“Everything’s fine, Nat. I changed my mind about going. That’s all.”

“See, that’s what’s not adding up. You don’t just change your mind and not tell me. So what is it?”

“I…” Should you tell her? What’s the worst that could happen? Bucky would be mad, but he’ll get over it. You’ll swear her to secrecy. Just tell her.

Your lips part, ready to pour out all of the details of your relationship, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You whip it out, careful to angle it away from Natasha’s sight, and read the notifcation in a hurry.

5:12 PM metal armed idiot: did you get lost on the way here or something? i’m done with my shower

Fuck. How are you going to get Natasha out of here? 

Before she has the opportunity to grab it out of your grasp, you stuff your phone away. “That’s my cue. Gotta go!” you exclaim, turning on your heel and heading toward the door.

“Wait, what the hell was that?” She calls your name. “You can’t just leave!”

Your hand is on the doorknob. “Sorry, it’s an emergency!” The knob is turned, but before you make your exit, you look over your shoulder at Nat’s dresses. “Green. You should go with the green.”

With that, you hurry out the door and down to Bucky’s room. 

“Finally decided to show up?” Bucky taunts from the couch, not bothering to look up from the paperback in his hand when he hears the electronic lock open with a beep. “I didn’t take you as someone who gets lost in a hallway.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he sets down his book and watches as you kick off your shoes, still not sparing him a glance. “Did you hear me or are you going deaf?”

Silence. 

“Babe?”

Your eyes finally meet his as you walk toward him, an unreadable look on your face. 

“Okay, I’ll admit that the deaf comment was too far.” 

His worry continues to grow as nothing comes out of your mouth, not even a ‘shut up, Barnes’ uttered from your lips. 

You stop in front of him and stare at him like you’re observing a new piece of art at a museum. Studying the fullness of his beard, the new gash above his eybrow, the pronounced bags under his eyes from sleepless nights. 

Then, your fingers slide into the damp strands of his hair, causing him to lean into your touch as you lightly scratch his scalp. He groans, enveloping your waist with one arm and pulling you closer. “Sweetheart…”

His hand wanders to your ass and kneads the soft flesh, eliciting a moan from your mouth. “Are you gonna kiss me or what, James?”

He chuckles and peers up at you. “Full name, huh?”

A small smile. “I mean business.”

“Alright, come here.” With a flick of his wrist, he pulls you on top of him, his lips finding yours instantly. The kiss starts out slow, like he’s savoring the taste of your favorite mints, trying to memorize each individual tastebud on your tongue. Like he’s learning how you changed in his absence. 

The kiss is nice. Don’t get it twisted. But it’s too nice. It doesn’t match the fervor brewing in your belly. 

So you take matters into your own hands. You tug at the roots of Bucky’s hair, earning a gasp against your lips. His eyes snap open, the irises already engulfed by the endless black of his pupils. With a smirk, you grind over his lap, a delicious warmth pooling in your core as his cock hardens beneath you. 

In a flash, Bucky flips you onto your back, sucking at the pulsepoint on your neck. “Bucky!” you shriek, dissolving into a puddle of moans as his kisses trail down to your chest. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he rasps, fingers tucking into the waistband of your jeans. “Let’s get these off you. I have a surprise.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, brows furrowing as he stands up from the couch. “Surprise?”

“Yup. Gimme one sec.” 

You’re not sure what’s important enough to stop him from soothing the ache between your legs, but it better be good. A new phone? Keys to a car? Jewelry?

Oh, shit. Did he get a ring? No, that’s too fast… Way too fast. You haven’t even told anyone and he might’ve gotten a ring? Dear lord, he better not have gotten a—

“Okay, you can look now,” he announces, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

Standing in front of you with the biggest grin is Bucky Barnes, a folded pair of red and black flannel pajama pants placed over his palms. Not a ring. Thank god it’s not a ring. That isn’t to say you would say no if he proposed; it’s just not the right time for that. 

You realize you haven’t responded to him yet and his smile is starting to fade. “I- Wow,” you start, the words freezing in your throat. He really stopped you for a pair of pajama pants?

“D-Do you like them? It was last minute, I know, but I got us matching ones…” he rambles, his cheeks turning pink as he continues. “I thought it would be nice to match even if we’re not by each other—”

You take the pants from him, running your fingertips over the smooth material. The dork got you matching pajamas. The thought of him seeing them in a store and thinking of you pulls at your heart, melting the previous resentment of him pausing your kissing. “I love them, Bucky.” 

“Y-You do?”

“Yes, of course.” You smile and take his hands. “Just unexpected, that’s all. A good unexpected.”

His smile returns. “Thank god. You scared me there for a second.” 

“You have to admit; it’s not your usual sentiment.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I guess. Sue me for trying to be romantic.”

“How about instead, I change into these so we can match right now?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He snaps his hand up in mock salute. God, he’s such a dork. But he’s your dork and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The pants fit perfectly, the fabric hugging your hips and thighs in all the right places. It’s a Christmas miracle that Bucky bought your size on the first try. 

Once you’re satisfied with your reflection in the mirror, you exit the bathroom and stride over to Bucky, giving him the full fashion show experience by showing him all the angles. He cracks a smile at your exaggerated poses and meets you where you’re stood. “What do we think?” you ask him, giggling as he runs his hands over your thighs. 

“I think…” he lowers his voice, bringing his lips to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “That you look sexy as fuck.”

You hum out a response, the end of it turning breathless. “Is that so?”

“Mhm…” A nip at your earlobe has you gasping. 

“What’re gonna do about it?” you murmur, the warmth returning to your core and spreading farther down. 

His voice is barely a whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you until the only words you know are yes and more.”

In one swift motion, Bucky has you pinned against the wall, his mouth ravaging yours like a man starved. Your fingers find their place in his hair, the roots anchoring you as your senses go wild, overwhelmed with the hot drag of his tongue across the roof of your mouth, the firmness of his abs pressing you to the wall, and the poke of his cock against your stomach. 

You’re lost in a sea of Bucky until he stops abruptly, pulling away from you with wide eyes. He’s panting like a wild dog, his chest rising and falling in tandem with yours. “W-What is it?” you question, a small part of you wondering if you did something wrong.

He presses a finger against your lips and whips his head to the door, waiting a second before two raps sound throughout the room. 

Your eyes widen. “Bucky, who is it?”

“I’m not sure.” More knocks and a voice. “Bucky, open up! I know you’re in there!”

Sam. What the fuck could he want?

Bucky faces you again, a plan formulating quickly. “You need to hide.”

“Hide?” you gape, running through all of the possible places in his room. “Are you serious?”

He nods, steering you toward the corner of his room. “Closet. Quick.”

You stumble over your feet as your mind reels from the sudden flip of horny to high alert. It takes a moment, but you regain your footing and stumble into his closet, squeezing into the first open space you can find. How many pairs of combat boots does a man need?

Bucky waits until the thud of wood meeting wood to open the front door, revealing Sam with his phone pulled out and about to dial Bucky’s number. “Finally!” he exclaims, shoving his phone back into its pocket. “I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”

An uneasy laugh escapes Bucky. “No, not ignoring. Just… I was in the bathroom. Couldn’t get up right away.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re up now. We have important business to attend to.”

“Business?”

“You going to the party?” Sam asks, pushing past Bucky and into his apartment. 

Bucky shuts the door and glances toward the closet doors where you just slid into. “Party?”

“Yeah, the Stark holiday party? You know, the talk of the tower the past month?”

“Right… Well, I just got back from that mission—“ 

Sam whips his head around in disbelief. “No way. Buck, you’re going. Everyone is going.”

“I’m tired and just got into my pajamas, Wilson.”

He gives Bucky a once over, taking in the red and black checkered flannel pants and lack of shirt. “There’s still time. Where’s your suit?” He starts heading toward the closet, but before he gets far, Bucky grabs his wrist. 

“Wait!” he practically yells, eyes widening at the thought of Sam opening the sliding doors and seeing you jammed between his tactical gear and shoe rack, clad in matching flannel pants. 

Suspicion draws Sam’s brows together. “What, you got something to hide in there?”

“N-No, I just, it’s a mess.”

“Ohh-kay. Well, get your suit.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Because you know who will be there.”

“You know who?”

Sam says your name, drawing it out teasingly like a middle schooler would on the playground. 

A flush spreads high on Bucky’s cheeks. “W-What about her?”

“What about her— Christ, Barnes, do you really think I’m that stupid? You’re constantly looking at her when you think no one notices. Practically undressing her with your eyes.”

The flush deepens to a cherry red. “I don’t— You’re imagining things.” Sam’s eyebrow cocks up. “I look at her a normal amount!”

“Right… Almost like how you always bring her coffee after your morning run.”

“She asks me before I leave—”

“—Or how you stare down Steve when he gets too close to her for your liking or smiles in her direction—”

“—I’m just trying to protect her—”

“—Speaking of smiling, I think I’ve seen you actually smile at her.” This shuts Bucky up. “Not one of your half-assed tight-lipped ones either. A genuine smile. Like you actually want to be around her.”

The tips of Bucky’s ears are dusted with pink at the accusation. Yes, he does want to be around you. He would be attached to your hip if it were humanly possible. “Well, she’s funny. I can appreciate someone with humor.”

“Hey, I’m funny and you don’t give me those reactions.”

“Exactly.”

“Fuck you.”

Bucky slaps Sam on the shoulder and starts leading him toward the door. “This has been fun, but you’ve got to get to that party, yeah? Wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“Buck, wait,” Sam protests, digging his heels into the carpet in an attempt to slow Bucky down. It’s no match against the bulldozer that is Bucky Barnes. “Hey, man, I’m serious.” He spins out of Bucky’s grasp to face him head on. “Put on the damn suit. Have fun. Enjoy yourself for once in your life.”

“I do have fun…”

A scoff. “Your definition of fun is bashing heads into a wall. I mean something that doesn’t involve violence.”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean.”

Sam smirks. “Is it working?” 

“If your definition of ‘working’ means you want me to punch you in the face, then yes.”

“See? Violence.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “If I don’t see you at the party after an hour, I’ll come back here and drag your ass kicking and screaming. There’s free alchohol for fuck’s sake. That should be enough of a reason.”

Time slows to a snail’s pace as Bucky stares at Sam, studying his expression for a twitch of lips or raised brow that would suggest foul play. It’s a habit; something he picked up to protect his peace, especially where Sam is involved. 

“Pretty please?” Sam bats his eyelashes and gives a fake pout. “Free alcohol? Pining over your not-so-secret crush from the bar? What more could you want?”

“It’s not—” A long sigh from Bucky. He knows that Sam won’t let up. “Fine, I’ll go.” Sam’s face lights up. “Only if you drop the whole crush thing. Because I don’t have a crush on her.”

“Right, right. Not a crush.” Sam shakes his head but a grin stays firmly on his face. “How dare I assume that the Winter Solider has a crush.”

“Not the Winter Soldier anymore.”

“Sorry, the former Winter Soldier.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

He chuckles and opens the door. “See you soon, Barnes.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

Once Sam is finally out the door and Bucky hears his footsteps echo down the hall, he runs over to the closet and slides open the door. “He’s gone,” he breathes in relief, holding out his hand to help you from the cramped space. 

You place your hand in his, your heart melting at how his fingers wrap around yours in a touch so delicate, it makes you feel like a precious jewel he’s covered in a cloth and vowed to protect for the rest of his life. With an equally as gentle tug, you’re finally released from the closet and into his arms. 

“Buck, that was too close,” you breathe into his chest, concentrating on the lavender and rosemary lingering on his skin to calm your racing heart. 

“Well, I didn’t know that Sam was gonna stop by,” he says, holding you close. 

Leave it to Bucky to help you calm down by being an idiot. “Really?” you deadpan, craning your neck to look up at him with mischief in your eyes. “You’re telling me you couldn’t see that with your newly developed ability to see into the future?” 

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.” He pecks a kiss to the top of your head and pats your back. “C’mon, we have a party to get ready for.” 

You pull back to bring his face in view. “You mean you” you boop his nose, “have a party to get ready for. I’m not expected to show up.” It’s not a lie. At the same time, it’s not the entire truth either. Natasha heavily implied that you’d be there, but what Bucky doesn’t know won’t kill him.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. If I have to suffer through this, then I need you there to make it bearable.”

“Wow, is that all I am to you? Something to ease your suffering?”

He smirks. “You’re also easy on the eyes.”

The beginnings of a smile curl against your will as you roll your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll get my dress.” 

The party is in full swing by the time you arrive. Christmas-style jazz fills the room, mixing with the sparkling lights of the chandeliers and a large tree in the corner to create a feeling of warmth and togetherness for all the guests to enjoy. 

A smile blooms across your face; this is all you dreamed of and more. The only thing that was missing—

“Ooh!” you squeak as two fingers pinch your ass, a shock of pleasure running to your core as the culprit shows his face. “Bucky, you can’t do that,” you whisper yell at him. 

After a brief make out session in Bucky’s room, you staggered your entrances to the party, knowing it would be too obvious if you arrived together. 

“Why not?” he taunts with a smirk. “Scared we’ll get caught?”

“Yes, that’s exactly why! Are you really that dumb?”

“What if I just act like I’m dumb but I’m actually smart? What then?”

“Then I would be extremely surprised.”

He narrows his eyes. “Hey. That’s an insult.”

“Good job! Do you want a cookie?” You tease, giggling after his smirk flips to a frown. “Go mingle. Make sure that Sam sees you so he doesn’t rip you a new one. I’ll be around.” You squeeze his butt for good measure, smiling in satisfaction at the grunt that leaves his mouth. 

“You’ll be the death of me, sweetheart.” 

You wink. “Right back atcha, Barnes.”

You do your best to avoid Bucky for the rest of the party, but somehow your paths keep crossing. While talking with Nat, he brushes past you and squeezes your hip, causing you to choke on your wine. Later, he’s engaged in a game of pool with Steve. You watch from the sidelines, biting your lip at him when Steve’s back is to you. At one point, you throw a little tongue in there, licking your lips and arching an eyebrow. The next time Steve isn’t looking, he adjusts his pants in a subtle attempt to hide his growing boner. 

The tension continues to grow and so does the wetness of your panties.

“I’ll have what the lady’s having,” a familiar voice rumbles from behind you. 

“The lady, huh?” you smirk, skin growing hot as Bucky enters your orbit. “That’s not what you were calling me earlier…”

A boyish grin erupts across his face, sending the corners of his eyes crinkling like the wrapping paper of an opened present. “Remind me again?”

Warmth floods your core as you’re transported back to Bucky’s room. Back to hard muscle pinning you against the wall. Back to his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s hot and messy and has you gasping for air once he pulls away. 

“We’re in public, Buck…”

“That’s a shame,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. “Kinda wish we were somewhere a little more private.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Your body mirrors his, unable to fight the urge to be near him. 

“Hey, I didn’t want Sam interrupting us again.”

“More like you wanted to protect your ego.”

Your lips are about to meet when the clearing of someone’s throat snaps you out of the trance that is Bucky’s blue eyes and sends you flinching away from him. Bucky isn’t any more subtle; he stumbles back and practically knocks the barstool flying toward the tiled floor before his soldier reflexes save you both from drawing the attention of the entire party. 

“Your drink, sir,” the bartender says, eyeing you both before moving down to the opposite end of the bar. 

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you realize how close you came to kissing Bucky in a crowd of hundreds. How you’re willing to throw caution to the wind just to steal one kiss.

It scares you. What else would this relationship have you risk?

“We need to be more careful—”

“I need you right now—”

“You can’t be serious.”

“So serious.”

“Do I need to remind you again that we’re in public?”

“No, I remember.”

His smirk has you shaking your head and biting back your own smile. How could you stay mad at an idiot like him?

“Okay, then you understand that we can’t… you know…”

“Why not?”

Oh, now he’s testing you. With his smirk deepening and the glint in his eyes that says, Do you want to see how far I’ll go?

You cross your arms over your chest. “Alright, Barnes. If you’re so sure of this, tell me, where do you suggest we go to carry this out?”

“Hmm…” He taps his lips in thought until an idea hits him. “The coat check?”

“The coat check,” you deadpan. “That’s your best idea?” You click your tongue and shake your head like you’re scolding a child. “I expected better from you, I won’t lie.”

“Why isn’t that a good idea?” he gasps in mock offense. “There are literally hundreds of coats in there. So many hiding spots.”

Maybe he’s onto something. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea…”

His face lights up. “Is that a yes?”

You shouldn’t. This sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Someone is bound to find you. Someone from the team could find you and Bucky sucking face between the coats of random people. But how can you say no when Bucky is looking at you like you bought him a puppy for Christmas?

You can’t help but be a bit selfish at the same time. The interruption in Bucky’s room plus the way he his muscles fight against his suit? You wanted this as much as he did, minus the public indecency. 

“…Fine.” The look of absolute joy that floods his features sends a rush of love through your chest that has you forgetting you said yes to making out in a closet. Clearly, it throws Bucky into overdrive because his face is moving toward yours in an act of trying to kiss you. Out in the open. Where everyone can see. 

“Woah there, tiger,” you say, stopping his attempt with a hand to his face. “No kissing until we get elsewhere, remember?”

He nods, his lips still smooshed against your palm, which makes you giggle. “Okay, let’s see if you can last that long.”

By some stroke of luck, Bucky’s idea is nearly perfect. The chilly New York air forces many of the partygoers to don a coat, therefore nary a hanger is empty. And the cherry on top? The attendant is nowhere to be seen. It’s almost too easy sneaking through the side door and hiding amidst the rows upon rows of coats in the dim light.

“Bucky, oh my god, wait—” you moan, grabbing onto the lapels of his suit as he hikes the skirt of your dress up and wastes no time pressing two fingers against your clothed cunt. 

“Shh, baby, you gotta be quiet,” he coos, sucking the skin right below your earlobe. “We don’t want anyone to hear, right?”

You suck in a breath, the back of your head resting against the wall when he applies more pressure to your aching clit. “Sh-Shut up, Barnes.”

He chuckles between kisses to your neck. “D’you want me to stop?”

Your eyes shoot open. “No, don’t— Please don’t—!” Dual stimulation of Bucky sucking hard on your neck and drawing circles over your clit forces your hips to buck forward. It’s not your fault that he’s making you sing with pleasure. “B-Bucky, don’t leave a mark—”

“I’m not gonna. Promise,” he says, then promptly breaks his promise by biting the skin above your collarbone. 

“Buck!” you gasp, jerking away from him. “What did I just say?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile disguised as a beg for forgiveness. 

“Hello?” A voice calls out. “Who’s there?”

You both straighten up like statues, looking at the other with wide eyes. There’s no way that this is happening. The one time that you do something for yourself and you’re about to get caught?

“I’m just here to get my coat,” the voice continues, its volume increasing with each step. Male. A bit timid. “Well, it’s actually my girlfriend’s, but don’t mind me.” 

With that last piece of information, your guess is confirmed. 

“It’s Bruce,” you whisper in Bucky’s ear. “I think.”

He nods and moves to press himself flat against the wall, when you grab his bicep, an idea popping into your head. 

His brows furrow in confusion as you position him with his back to the walkway between the racks and mouth a sorrybefore shoving him out into the open. Right into Bruce’s line of vision. 

“Barnes?” Bruce ask in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky’s mouth sits agape, betrayal etched across his face with his body still facing yours. You cover your mouth in order to stifle the laugh that’s threatening to burst from your lips. 

“I’m, uh…” He turns to Bruce. Think, Bucky, think. “Grabbing my coat. Obviously.”

“Didn’t you… You live in the tower.”

Great thinking, dumbass. “Right, how could I forget?” He chuckles and taps his forehead. “Silly me. I’m getting Sam’s suitcoat. He asked me to grab it for him.”

Bruce studies him for a moment, his head quirking up. “I’m not entirely sure what you’re hiding but,” he reaches for a coat that’s about ten hangers down from where you’re standing, which has Bucky instinctually moving to avoid any possibilty of Bruce seeing you, “I’m gonna leave you to it. Is it alright if I grab Darcy’s coat?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t—” he starts before realizing how close he’s gotten to Bruce in order to protect you. “Sorry, go ahead.” He steps back and scratches the side of his head to mask looking over his shoulder, ensuring that you’re still hidden. 

With Darcy’s coat finally secured, Bruce gives Bucky a once over, noticing the large bulge in his pants. He lifts up the coat and nods at Bucky. “Well, I’ve got what I need. You stay safe out there tonight, Barnes.”

Bucky returns the nod and watches Bruce’s receding figure. “Yes, sir.”

Right as Bruce gets to the side door, he turns around and yells back, “Don’t forget to wear a condom!”

“Did he say what I think he said?” you ask, stepping out of your hiding spot and next to Bucky. 

“Yeah, I think we’re missing the mark on the whole ‘subtlety’ thing.”

You pin him down with a glare. He’s just realizing this now? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m completely serious. I think he knows.”

“Bucky. In the most loving way possible, you’re an idiot. Of course we’re ‘missing the mark!’ You keep flirting with me out in the open!”

“You don’t have a clean record either! You flirt back just as hard!”

It’s no use fighting him—you could go back and forth for the rest of the night. “Whatever, just— Should we go back to your room? Maybe take out our… frustrations there?”

He shrugs. “Works for me.” 

“‘Works for me'? What is this, a business transaction? Do you wanna have sex or not?”

“What if sex is a business transaction for me?”

“Oh, shut up.”

You’re almost there. The end is in sight, just down the hallway.

You and Bucky managed to maneuver through the party without a single hitch. All that stands in your way is the hallway leading to the elevator. 

Would it be crazy to run? Perhaps. But freedom is so close you can almost taste it. And it’s impossible to keep up with Bucky’s long strides.

One hundred feet until you can pull him into a never ending kiss, not caring if your lipstick smears or he messes up your hair. One hundred feet—and counting—until he can bite and suck and pinch your skin as much as he wants. One hundred—

The elevator dings and the doors slide open, squashing your hope in an instant. What’s even worse is who walks out of the doors. 

Wanda and Vision. Who are thankfully engaged in conversation, but if Wanda were to take one look at the two of you, she’d clock your relationship instantly. 

Bucky grabs your wrist and pulls you from the middle of the hallway into the nearest open door. He stops your momentum before you both crash into a shelf full of cleaning supplies and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

You nod, taking in deep breaths to ease the pounding in your ears. 

“Good,” he sighs, rubbing the sides of your arms up and down to soothe you. “I think they’re—” He waits a moment. “Okay, now they’re gone.”

“Alright, let’s get back to your room—” you start, not getting far with Bucky’s grip holding you in place. Why won’t he let you through? “Buck, let’s leave. To you room? So we don’t get interrupted?”

He kneels in response, What the fuck is he doing? “Bucky, get off the floor.”

He shakes his head and lifts up the skirt of your dress, disappearing under the silky fabric. “Bucky, what the fuck are you— Oh!” you exclaim as his warm fingers roll your panties down your legs, helping you step out of them once he gets to your feet. 

Before you have the chance to ask him yet again what he’s doing, the scruff of his beard scratches your thighs, his tongue parts your folds, searching for the pearl within the shell. You moan, legs going weak as he finds your clit and applies a gentle pressure to the nub, flooding your belly with warmth. 

“Oh my god, Bucky…” Your hands grab onto the previously mentioned shelf, steadying yourself as his lips wrap around your clit and start sucking. You inhale a sharp breath—the band of pleasure building faster than you anticipated—and lean your head back against the shelf. 

Every nerve ending lights up when a finger enters your dripping hole, your walls accepting the intrusion as Bucky adds yet another finger. 

“Holy shit, Bucky, slow down, I can’t—” A loud moan errupts from your chest as he increases the speed of his sucking, your legs starting to shake from the overwhelming pleasure threatening to snap. “Babe, I’m— Fuck, I’m gonna…”

Just when you think he can’t make you moan any louder, his fingers push deep inside until they hit the spot that has you seeing stars, and he crooks them forward. You’re clenching around him, your hips bucking uncontrollably as the combination of his tongue and fingers and just him brings you closer and closer to your release. 

“Bucky, oh god, yes, like that! I’m— I’m so—!” White, hot pleasure crashes over you as you cum around Bucky’s fingers. He doesn’t stop until the bucking of your hips seize, not until he’s pulled every last moan, every last drop of decadence from your cunt. Only then does he reappear from under your dress.

You’re panting against the shelf, eyes still closed as he stands up and tilts your chin to meet his eyes. He smiles and kisses you, the salty taste of your release covering your tongue. “How was that, sweetheart?”

“Good,” you respond, his beard tickling your cheek as you nod. “Incredible…”

“Incredible, huh? That’s a new one.”

You shove him playfully. “Shush.”

He laughs and goes to unbuckle his belt, stopping when you plant a hand into the scruff of his beard and scratch gently. “You’re keeping this.”

“Am I now?”

You nod and replace his hands on his belt with your own. “You’ll keep it if you want to keep fucking me.”

A wide grin spreads across his lips. “I guess it’s staying.”

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