A/N: this is probably one of the dirtiest things I've written...
"Fucking hell, Y/L/N!," Sam moaned, doubled over on the mat. "You tryin' to kill me, woman?"
"Shouldn't have hit me," you sassed back. "Rules say nothing above the neck and nothing below the belt. You broke the rules, Wilson. And so did I."
"What's goin' on?," Bucky asked as he came through the gym doors, brows furrowed as he took in the scene before him. "Your girl just punched me in the dick," Sam coughed, trying to stand up.
"Yeah, well," you started, hands on your hips, "you punched me in the jaw, assface."
"Told you it was an accident!"
"Want me to handle him?," Bucky asked, jokingly pulling the knife from its sheath and flipped it in his hands, your eyes immediately catching the glint of metal, an idea already formulating in your mind.
"You're as crazy as she is, Barnes!"
"James," you chuckled, "put the knife away."
He shrugged a bit and tucked it back in, a small grin still playing on his lips. He loved messing with Sam. It was one of his favorite pastimes.
You pulled off the gloves and tossed them, holding out a hand for Sam, who took it gratefully. Hopping down, you immediately wrapped your arms around Bucky's waist and kissed him. "I gotta proposition for you."
"Yeah?," he asked with a cocky smirk, "does it include me bending you over right here and having my way with you?"
"You two are fucking gross."
You laughed, watching Sam head out the door. "No," you shook your head and Bucky pouted. "Does it include me getting to fuck you at all?" You nodded and his grin returned.
"Come upstairs," you cooed, running a hand through his hair, "make me feel really good. And use this," you whispered, tugging at the knife. "Want you to make me come." His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas and he pulled you out into the hall, pushing you up against the wall.
"Buck...," you shook your head just as he was shoving a hand down your leggings. "Come on, Y/N," he whispered, "let me fuck you right here first."
"What if someone walks by?," you asked and he shrugged again. "Then they get an eyeful of my amazing ass and an earful if you moanin' my name, sweetheart. Everyone wins."
You laughed and shook your head, but his fingers had already sought out your wet folds. "God damn, woman," he growled, "that all for me, baby? Hmm? Tell me who gets you this wet."
"You, Sarge."
He growled again. "Fuck right." His metal fingers pushed into your heat, making you cry out, the only sounds in the empty hallway were your breathy moans and the sound of your wetness.
"Come," he breathed, "come on, sugar. Soak my hand. Show me how bad you want me to fuck your brains out. Show me how bad you need me deep."
"James...," you panted, eyes screwed shut. "Open your eyes, pretty girl. Look at me when you let go. I wanna see that look in your eyes when I make you lose your fuckin' mind."
Your eyes flew open, locking onto his. His were dark, stormy. Hooded. His jaw hung open just slightly, his brow creased in concentration. Desperately trying to push you over the edge.
He curled his fingers just right and you fell apart, soaking his fingers with your release and a breathy moan of his name. "Good girl. Always so good for her Sarge, aren't you?," he purred, tipping your head up with his finger, kissing you softly.
****
You were spread out for him.
The cold steel of the knife circled around each nipple slowly. Carefully. With absolute precision. Goosebumps littered your body. You were panting, tears formed in the corners of your eyes.
He wanted it to last. Wanted to drive you absolutely insane. Push you to your limits. Bucky got off on it. He loved hearing your soft whines and whimpers. Your quiet begging. Begging for just a little more.
You could feel your slick dripping down onto the mattress as the knife trailed down, between the valley of your breasts, down your abdomen. Stopping just as he reached your drenched, aching cunt.
"Look at that," he moaned, taking you in. "God, I don't think I've ever seen you wetter, baby girl. It's just drippin' down your thighs. I bet it tastes so fuckin' good."
You needed it. You were desperate for him to do something. Any damn thing to relieve the pressure. The ache. The burning desire between your legs. You felt like you'd burst, that any slight movement would make you come harder than you had in ages.
You were sure to make a mess.
"Messy girl," he teased, setting the knife aside and ran a finger over your folds slowly, gathering your wetness and swirled it around in his mouth, tasting you. "Always gets messy for her Sarge, doesn't she? Do I make you wet, hmm? Do I, baby?"
You nodded furiously, afraid words would fail you. You could barely think. Your mind was fuzzy, in a haze. You wanted to reach down and quell the ache, but you knew he'd never let you.
"You afraid I won't satisfy you? Don't I always? You know I do. I always give you what you need. How many times you wanna come? One? Three? Five?"
You whined, your head digging back into the pillow, eyes screwed shut, barely able to breathe. His filthy words only serving to push you closer and closer. "So fuckin' needy, little girl," he chuckled. "Always so desperate for my cock, aren't you?"
"You're so wet. You need a good. Hard. Fucking."
Each word was emphasized with a pump of his fingers inside you. You cried out, clutching the sheets. "Come on, pretty little girl. Give it to me. Give me all of it. Get me absolutely drenched. And then I'll fuck you so hard you'll be feelin' me next week. You'll have to cancel all of your training."
"I'll make sure you can't walk right for days."
That was it. That was the trigger. Your eyes screwed shut tight and a scream ripped from your lungs, giving him exactly what he wanted. Effectively drenching his entire hand with your release.
"Good girl," he praised. "Now roll over. We're just getting started."
