All Our Flaws Are Aligned [COMPLETED]

Approval

You turned away from him, your eyes going across the table to Sam and Steve's conversation, your fingers prickling as you tried to breathe normally.

Then you felt a hand on your thigh. You instinctively grabbed your fork and stabbed down, only to be met with a metal clink. The fucker was using his left hand. You threw the fork back on the table, unbeknownst to anyone. You felt Bucky lean in close again.

"Did you really just try and stab me?" He asked, a laughter threatening to take over him.

"Shame it didn't work." You shrugged, taking another sip of your water.

"You're being a fucking brat."

You choked a little on your water, shocked at his cursing, and shocked that he was bringing this up again. His hand squeezed your thigh, then traced its way down to the hem of your dress, sliding underneath it and moving back up your bare skin.

"You are really pushing my buttons Luka. I don't appreciate that." He said, his tone serious and unwavering. His hand moved higher.

"You need to stop." You hissed, looking around at the others as you tried to push his hand away, but his fingers dug into your flesh. The others were oblivious. The metal was searing cold against the fire of your skin.

"And you need to start doing as I say." He retorted, his voice as hushed as yours.

"Fuck you."

"That's the plan."

Your mouth stuttered open at his boldness, at his dominating presence, and he took the opportunity to move his fingers higher until he could trace a line over your underwear. Your body stiffened.

"Now, eat." He said, turning back to his own food and leaving his hand under your dress.

You glared at him for a minute, watching him eat as he ignored you simmering beside him. When you made no move to start eating, he pushed his finger against you, making your nerves buzz. You inhaled sharply, the sound hidden by the conversation happening around you. His finger was strong against your underwear, starting to run a slow line up and down your core. Your hips twitched into his touch, your spine straightening as you debated with yourself whether to give in, or push him a bit further.

Before you could make the decision, his fingers were tracing the edge of your underwear, tugging them aside slightly, and his fingers stroked your clit. He leaned back over to you, smirking when he saw you were still staring at him.

"Something wrong?" He teased, his finger dipping down, gliding over your wet core.

"No." You spat. He licked his bottom lip, bit down on it, and his fingertip inched inside. You glanced around, but the others were oblivious, sucked into their own conversations about the mission tomorrow, and then your eyes landed on his water glass.

You had an idea.

You reached over, picking up his glass. You took a sip. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, watching your movements, his finger slow against you. Holding the glass tight, you then turned your hand upside, pouring out the contents.

All over Bucky's lap.

He flinched, shouting out, and withdrawing his hand from you, as the water splashed all over him.

"Woops." You said lazily, as the others started looking over in surprise, shock, and in Sam's case, laughter. "So clumsy." You chuckled to the others, who mostly shook their heads and returned to their conversations.

You put the glass down on the table, as he narrowed his eyes at you, and you picked up some napkins. You smiled at him, then started patting his lap dry. His knees, his thighs, moving higher and higher with each pat.
Before you knew it, you were patting the inside of his thighs, around his crotch, changing your patting technique into small strokes, until you were grazing your hands over his growing bulge.