Drinking Games

Summary: It was supposed to be a laid-back night; drinking and goofing around with your friends, but things take a drastic turn when someone gives you three names and the options of Fuck, Marry, Kill.
Word Count: 1,648
Warnings: Drunken shenanigans, language, embarrassed reader, explicit sexual content
Author’s Note: Requested by anon – I was watching a few of the interviews/games from the infinity war cast and it just made me think about a reader/Bucky idea of the avengers team playing fuck, marry, kill, saying she’d fuck Bucky as sort of a joke/crush confession and he takes her up on it later.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission

You were drunk, not sloppily so, but enough that your guard had been let down, and your tongue was feeling rather loose. Your skin was flushed and you had just shrugged out of the sweatshirt you’d been wearing when Natasha giggled.

“Your turn.” She was staring at you, her lips pulling into a wicked smirk. “Fuck, marry, kill.”

“Oh, I like this,” you giggled, wiggling in your seat. “Gimme the names.”

With her eyes flashing, she said, “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.”

This was a bad idea, whoever had come up with it should be dealt with immediately.

“Fuck Bucky, marry Steve, and kill Tony.” The words were out of your mouth before you could do anything about it.

Tony, whiskey glass in hand, was going off about how he’d give you a night to remember, that he didn’t deserve to die. Steve was blushing furiously, reaching back to scratch the back of his neck, mumbling in agreement with your decision. Then there was Bucky. His head was hung, chestnut hair acting as a veil, preventing you from seeing his features.

You forced out a laugh before drinking the rest of your wine. “Come on, guys,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “It’s just a stupid game. It’s not like I’d really kill you, Tony.”

Bucky pushed up from his spot with a disapproving grunt. “I’d fuckin’ kill him,” he muttered as he strode out of the room.

You blew out a heaving breath as your shoulders sagged. “Way to fuck that up,” you sighed, kicking yourself internally.

Everyone went on as if nothing had happened, the boundaries being pushed a little further with each game that was played. With your thoughts swirling, effectively killing the buzz, you backed away from the group, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed up to your room.

With a groan, you fell onto your bed, your arm draped over your eyes. You couldn’t believe you had just drunkenly confessed that you wanted to fuck Bucky. God, how was this your life? You had been doing a great job of keeping your feelings tucked away, locked up.

“Fuckin’ Nat,” you grumbled just as someone knocked on your door.

You weren’t up for company of any kind. “Go away.”

“Come on, doll.” It was Bucky, and his voice was sinfully low.

A shudder worked down your spine as you pushed yourself up. “I’m tired, Buck,” you protested weakly, the sight of him stealing the air from your lungs; his eyes flashing, jaw clenching, towering over you.

“We need to talk,” he declared, stepping into your room.

With a roll of your eyes, you waved your arm about. “Please come in.” The breath you sucked in was tainted with his cologne, and it made your stomach flip lazily.

“Did you mean it?” Bucky asked as he paced back and forth, a hand raking through his hair.

“What are you talking about?”

He gave a scoffing laugh before clarifying, “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to fuck me?”

The door fell closed after your hand fell away from the handle. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that,” he huffed, stealing a glance.

“Is it important?”

Bucky stopped his pacing and stole your breath with the intensity in his eyes. “It’s very important, doll.”

Sure, you could expand the lie that you had told downstairs, that it was just a game, that you really didn’t mean it. But, standing there, with the man of your dreams before you, the air between you thick and palpable, you found that you couldn’t lie to him anymore.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, too long. I had to be sure before I did something stupid,” Bucky growled, crossing the room in two long strides.

“I meant it,” you admitted, your voice thick with lust, your heart jack-hammering painfully in your chest.

In less time than it would have taken you to blink, Bucky had his hands on your hips and he was hauling you off the floor. He dropped to the edge of your bed, pulling you with him. You landed with your legs straddling his, thick thigh muscles twitched against yours and his hips jerked up as he pulled you down. The kiss was frantic, tongues and teeth smashing together, furiously fighting for dominance and neither of you willing to let the other have it.

Bucky tore at your clothes, grunting angrily when it became brutally apparent that his need to fuck you greatly outweighed the thunderous, dangerous, self-deprecating thoughts running rampant through his mind. With every inch of you that was exposed, Bucky made this noise in the back of his throat that made your pussy clench. His cock was hard and throbbing in your hand, cum-weeping tip crimson and velvet soft, vein on the underside throbbing with every heartbeat.

Fuck, he was huge. Proportionate, yes. Huge, nonetheless. You briefly wondered if you could take all of him, but Bucky’s fingers were three knuckles deep in your pussy, driving all logical thought from your brain.

In a silent attempt to get your point across, you whined and rocked your body against his. As badly as you wanted him to fuck you, you wanted… needed to feel his hands and mouth on you. Answering your almost silent wish, Bucky rolled over, covering you with his body, teasing you with the thick weight of it before kissing his way down your body, his teeth and fingers leaving marks on your skin.

With his nose buried in your short curls, he shot you a wink before pressing his nose against your clit, his tongue working against your slit, pushing the tip of it into your entrance. He repeated the process several times before finally driving his tongue in and fucking you frantically, almost as if he were a starving man and you were his last meal.

Your hands scrambled for purchase on the bed as you grunted his name and pitifully begged for more. So, when he pressed your clit and circled it tightly with his thumb, you were gone. You came on his mouth and hand, the delicious bite of his stubble on your inner thighs adding some pain to the pleasure. He stood, wiping your juices off his chin and then sucking them off his fingers. The buzzing in your ears hadn’t completely gone away when he spoke.

“So sweet, doll,” he praised, his eyes dark and hooded, his chest heaving.

If your legs weren’t shaking, you’d push up and help Bucky out of the clothes he was wearing, but all you could do was lie there and watch as he exposed himself. It felt as if he were doing it in slow motion, and it was driving you crazy. By the time he was completely naked, the heat between your legs was almost unbearable.

Wearing a smirk, he reached down and pressed his hand against your pussy, dragging two middle fingers through your folds. He spread your slick over his cock and licked off the rest, rolling his eyes as he groaned.

“Bucky… please,” your voice was wrecked with need.

“Please what, baby girl?”

You shimmied your hips, his cock brushing against your pussy as you did. “Fuck me, Bucky.”

With lust blown pupils, he grabbed your hips and crashed into you, driving the air from your lungs when your hips connected. There was no waiting for your body to adjust to him, no giving you time to catch your breath, because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted to be fucked and Bucky gave you exactly what you asked for.

Bucky snapped his hips tightly, driving your ass into the mattress, his knees spreading wide, opening you wider, echoed by the slap of sweat-slicked skin connecting. Snarling, Bucky’s metal hand slid under your back and held onto your shoulder, using you for leverage to drive himself harder, deeper. You almost came right there, his cock buried so deep you would swear on a stack of Bibles that it was in your throat.

Bucky was swearing in a strangled shout, a string of fuckfuckfuck and shitshitshit tumbled out before he kissed you. It was a searing, bruising kiss, one you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. Not that you could forget anything about James Buchanan Barnes, but there was something dark and dangerous about this kiss. The edge of desperation that you could taste, feel as it burned into your skin with every heavy drag of his cock, every squeeze of his calloused hand.

Your orgasm rammed into you like a tidal wave; sucking the air from your lungs as it pulled you under the surface. With your hands scrambling for purchase, your back arched arduously and every muscle went taut, burning as if seared with lava. With his mouth on your breast, Bucky bit and sucked your salty and soft skin as he came. His hips stuttered as his cock pulsed and deep grunts of your name blew against the deep purple bruise on your breast.

The pair of you were reduced to grunts and groans, gasping for air as you parted, your skin sticky and shining with sweat.

“That… that was…” you panted, your brain still reeling.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” Bucky finished, chuckling as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you nodded your agreement. “Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah, doll?”

“Wanna play a game?” you asked, rolling to your side, resting your head in the palm of your hand.

Bucky mirrored you before answering. “What have you got in mind?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Alright,” he murmured, shifting closer to you. “Truth.”

You pulled in a breath that made your shoulders shudder. “Did you mean it, when you said you’ve wanted this?” you motioned at the small gap between you.

Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly, , tangling his fingers in your hair, taking his time. “I meant it.”

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