A Couple of Games - Bucky Barnes x OC (One-Shot)

part one - the morning after

Finley woke up from the warmth and sunshine of the morning rays peeking through the sheer blinds. The pillow her face rested on was soft and the bed was oddly welcoming, as if it were made for her, yet she knew from the material of the blanket she clutched to her bare chest... it indeed wasn't.

She groaned and rolled onto her stomach. Just five more minutes, she thought. Then she'll do the embarrassing walk of shame to collect her clothes and confront the stranger, who she undoubtedly got more than just a couple rounds of drinks out of.

Finley reached her arms out beside her to feel the bed. Empty and cold.

Thank God.

"THIS is why you don't take tequila shots and mix with vodka sodas, Fin!" She argued with herself. Finley yanked the pillow, to hide underneath it instead like that would make her invisible from the situation she found herself in and audibly groaned again.

That was when she heard him. A chuckle came from the opposite side of the room.

"I'd like to think that's exactly why you DO take tequila shots and mix them with vodka sodas," said the man. Finley shot out from under the pillow, slightly panicked. Vision still blurry from the brightness, she blinked until her eyes were focused clearly and saw a silhouette of the man––one she knew unfortunately too well.

"No fucking way," Finley said. "Out of all the men in this god forsaken city..."

Bucky's back was resting against the mahogany door frame, letting the light hit him in all the right places. He bent his neck down when he laughed, but Finley still saw those perfectly white teeth flash a smirk. Each pectoral and abdominal muscle was radiating under the rays of the morning light.

"Awh, babydoll. Don't get upset now, you certainly weren't while moaning m-"

The pillow launched at his face was grabbed in an instant, without hesitation, clearly a lazily thrown piece of fabric was nothing for his assassin-trained and super soldier senses. Bucky, arm stretched with the pillow in his metallic grip, rolled his eyes at the poor attempt to shut him up.

He squinted and scrunched his nose, the corner of his lips rising as he responded with an annoyed, "Cute."

"Will you just..." Finley started, "shut the fuck up." She rested all of her weight on her elbows as she shook her hands in the air. She needed a couple of silent seconds to process everything. A deep, exasperated sigh escaped her lips. Her ocean blue eyes met his, holding emotions neither of them could register correctly.

"Get over here."

Bucky walked over the bed while Finley swung her legs out to dangle over the edge. She covered herself with the beige duvet and autonomically raked her eyes over his toned body, the only garment worn being a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The attraction to Bucky Barnes was undeniably magnetic. When Bucky wasn't any farther than a foot away from her, Finley stood up.

She was so close his fresh minty breath fanned over her face.

"You say a word about this to anyone," Finley said through gritted teeth, getting progressively more quiet yet enunciating every syllable perfectly. She pressed a finger into his chest and Bucky's skin began to smoke under her touch, "Especially Stevie and you're fucking-"

The ex-assassin jumped away from the touch in pain, which left a small circular third-degree burn on his chest. He rubbed a hand over the area, knowing that it would eventually scar.

She snapped her fingers and the flames disappeared. "Dead."

"Noted, Firefly," replied the Winter Soldier and turned to walk out of the room. He stopped in the doorway and then looked over his shoulder to face her again. "Given you're in my bed in the tower we share with the other Avengers and your lovely brother, I suggest you hurry up and scurry back to your own bed. They'll all be up soon."