Words: 4.7K

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex

A/N: this was so fun to write (I really love this one) Requests are open as always! I'd be happy to write anything. Just let me know!

"You're stupid as shit, you know that right?"

The man that I've aimed my sharp tongue towards scoffs and refuses to turn and face me. He keeps rustling around the pile of papers on the table to find something that I've already assured him isn't there. "Oh shut the hell up," he mutters exasperatedly as if I'm the more annoying of us two (which, I'm clearly not). "I've got more intelligence in my dick than you've got in your entire body."

"Yikes—that burns: especially since your penis is smaller than mine, and I don't even have one."

"Really? Because I thought you did! I'm shocked, Y/N, honestly. I didn't know it was possible to be such a fucking dick without actually having one." He shoots a nasty glare over his shoulder and I silently fume for a moment before ultimately stomping closer.

Since Bucky's been back on the team, we've had a hard time getting along. In fact, we seem to be living for the joy of terrorizing the other. I can't really explain why, but we hate each other.

"Tell me, Bucky, what's it like to be so incompetent that you need to follow Steve around like a little lost puppy?" I make pouty lips at him in a mocking sort of way.

Having been considerably offended by my last insult, Bucky's fat face contorts with rage. He pushes a lock of long brown hair out of his face before spewing, "You're just jealous because no one can stand your vile personality and horrid manners enough to hang out with you outside of this fucking job."

I'm glad he's turned away as to not see my jaw drop. Regaining my composure, I spit out, "Well, at least I'm not so illogically conceited that I walk around the compound like I spew gold nuggets out of my ass."

"Seriously?" A third voice scolds impatiently. "Will you two just grow up?"

I point to Bucky with an arm. "He started it."

"No. No, this time it was all you." Bucky slumps against the wall and scowls in my direction. The metal arm of his crosses over the other.

Steve rolls his eyes. I wonder how long he's been standing there in the doorway to the conference room. "Guys... seriously, this is becoming exhausting." He pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"Tell me about it. She won't ever shut up." Bucky glares at me pointedly. He's totally given up looking for that missing file.

I stick my tongue out at Bucky, crossing my arms. "Maybe if you weren't such a..."

"Enough!" Steve yells—stopping me cold. I blink at him lamely. "I don't have time for this. I really don't. I'm done with playing babysitter." He storms up to us, taking my hand first and then Bucky's. "If you won't leave each other alone," he snaps a silver cuff on each of our wrists before either of us can protest. "Then by all means, kill each other or work it the hell out."

"No, no, no, no! Steve, Steve you can't do this to me," I beg. I yank on my end of the cuffs but Bucky refuses to let me move. "I'll quit the team. I swear to god I'll do it."

Steve scowls—crossing his arms and looking nothing like a person who believes me.

"Don't test me. I'll do it—I swear."

"Let her do it, Steve. Maybe then we can all live in peace." Bucky sneers proudly at his own idiotic commentary.

I glare at the stupid idiot with all the contempt I can possibly muster. "Shut it, shit licker."

"Alright—I'm gone," Steve sighs. He turns around and strides from the dropship. "Let me know when you've worked it out!" he calls out over her shoulder.

Glaring, I look to my present company. He's still smirking like a goddamn fool. "What the fuck are you grinning about?"

"This could be fun."

"About as fun as a barefoot fuck in the middle of a snowstorm," I grumble.

Bucky's eyebrows gnarl. "You're so fucking bizarre, Y/N."

"Oh—oh do you want a prize for your insult?" I reach into my pocket to pull out an extended middle finger. "Here you go Sargent! Custom made." I admire the crude gesture thoughtfully. "See, I was going to make it as big as your micro-penis, but I wanted you to be able to see it."

"Screw you."

"You wish you could."

"Only in my worst nightmares."

I groan, trying to stomp off but the cuffs drag Bucky unwillingly behind me. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" he gripes.

"Wherever I want to go."

"No—you're not in charge of where we go." He abruptly puts an end to my trip out of the office by halting in place as deadweight. I jerk to a stop, our arms outstretched and connected by a silver chain.

"And who said that you were?"

"Well, I'm clearly stronger, so..."

"Now you're just being a sexist pig."

"What?"

"I get it, Bucky. You think that because you're the big macho man and I'm the girl that you can just drag me around," I poke at his buttons. Oh, how he has such sensitive, easy buttons to push.

"I never said anything about you being a girl," Bucky grunts. "In fact, you look more like a man than Banner does."

My jaw drops. "You take that back." I stomp up to him and jab his chest at the sound of the noun.

Bucky smirks. "Nope." He jabs me back.

I scowl. "You're despicable, you know that right?"

"Never as much so as you, Pipsqueak."

The use of my embarrassment of a nickname makes me frown. "I hate you."

Bucky turns, walking away and taking me with him. "Believe me, the feeling's mutual." He grits his teeth then eventually huffs, "Seriously though. Let's at least get off this floor and go somewhere where we can ignore each other."

I think about it for a moment before deciding he may, for the first time in his life, be right. "You've surprised me with the first bit of intelligence I've ever heard you utter, Barnes. So by all means," I gesture him on. "Take me there before I change my mind."

Bucky grunts. He turns around; our hands still forced together, and he leads us to the stairs.

"The stairs? Why the hell aren't we taking the elevator?" I gawk.

Bucky's smirk is palpable in the air. Oh, I can feel the wretched gesture.

"It's good exercise," he states. Glancing back at me for effect, he adds, "You certainly need it."

Unable to come up with a comeback soon enough, I'm forced to follow him to the stairs. We go up a floor or two before I'm tired. That's when I get a stroke of inspiration. I plop down onto the step beneath our feet. Bucky grunts as he's forced to stop and stumbles in the direction of the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" he sighs.

"I'm taking a break." I push my braid off of my shoulder and smirk. "I was tired."

Bucky grumbles beneath his breath. He stalks closer on his long, meaty legs. My arm is raised in the air to reach his and his is angled down. Those damn chains... That damned Steve.

"Get up."

"No."

Bucky grits his teeth. "Get. Up."

"Make. Me."

Shaking his head, Bucky's sharp jaw reddens. And then, much to my shock and dismay, he actually follows through on my threat. He stoops down towards me—grabbing me by the waist and tossing my body over his shoulder.

"BUCKY!" I scream—pounding his back with my fist. "Put me down! Put me down right now!"

He sighs. "Hush up, Pipsqueak."

Loudly and dramatically I groan and smack my face against his lower back where it dangles. With every step my body jolts in his tight arms. He easily holds me in place with a single muscled metal bicep. He smells like metal and Dove soap.

"Can I get down now?"

"No."

I wait fifteen seconds.

"How about now?"

"Shut up. I'll put you down when we get there," he growls impatiently.

I smack his back. He grumbles—purposefully taking a jolting step and causing my body to rise up into the air and then collide with his shoulder. I grunt as my stomach comes in contact with his bony shoulder blade.

"Umm..." a voice beckons as they come up behind us. I lift my head to see Nat following us close behind. "What's going on here?" She raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"Barnes' fat mouth got us in trouble with Cap," I explain.

"Don't listen to her, Nat. It was your best friend's shitty temperament that put us here."

"Interesting..." I hum. "I'd like to see things from your point of view, Bucky—truthfully, but I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass."

Nat grins— clearly amused by our present predicament. "Ah. So Steve thinks locking you two together will make you get along?"

"Yep."

Nat laughs as she pats my head. "Good luck, kiddo. Don't kill each other please."

"No promises," I sigh.

Nat jogs away up the stairs in the other direction. Bucky keeps walking us up to wherever the hell it is that he's taking us. I grunt— looking down at Bucky's round ass and really wanting to smack it. Oh god, that'd make him so mad. And... well, it'd be enjoyable: too enjoyable, actually. It's a nice ass, I hate to admit. It'd look even nicer with my fingers digging into the tight, round, denim clad cheeks for a frisky little squeeze...

I shake my head—interrupting that perverted thought process.

Finally we arrive at our destination. Bucky's taken us up to the main floor with the communal kitchen and dining hall. At least here there will be other humans to socialize with and make this situation a little more tolerable. And maybe Steve will be there and I can punch him in the face.

The moment we make it out of the stair hall Bucky's carelessly deposited me onto the floor. I stagger and sway until regaining my footing—tripping behind him as he hurriedly walks towards the sound of laughing voices.

"What the hell is this? Are you two finally fucking? Is this a kink or something?" Stark laughs. He sits perched at the kitchen bar with his crusty feet on the counter.

I roll my eyes. "That's disgusting."

"Steve did it," Bucky grunts.

"Ah. I see." Tony slurps on a smoothie from a Jamba Juice cup. "And how long is this punishment supposed to last?"

"Until we get along, I guess," I gripe. I try to walk towards the fridge but Bucky won't budge. He's digging through one of the drawers with his metal hand and trying to find a bottle opener for one of the beers on the counter.

"Which'll never happen. Would you stop trying to walk away, Y/N? I kinda need both hands to do this," Bucky snaps impatiently. He glares back at me over his shoulder.

I go to cross my arms before realizing that's impossible with these stupid cuffs. "Can you maybe ask nicely, ass maggot?"

"Ass maggot? What the hell, Y/N," Bucky curses me. "You're stupid."

"At least I'm not ugly," I counter.

"No, you're way beyond that." Bucky yanks the chain so hard that I'm physically forced to join him next to the utensil drawer. I punch his arm when I get there, to which he shoves me. I stumble back until Sam catches me.

"You two better get used to this, because I don't think Steve's gonna let you out of this so easy. He's real tired of this shit-show," Sam chuckles. "I think we all are."

"Oh no," Tony replies. "Not me. I find this hysterical." He winks before taking another loud slurp of smoothie.

Sam laughs, "I just hope for you guys' sake that you make amends before tonight, because sharing a bed would be..."

"Oh my god." My eyes go wide.

Bucky's cheeks turn red. He grits his teeth and chugs down half a beer. "This is fuckin' great," he growls.

I scowl at the taller, broader man. "There's no way I'm sleeping with you."

"Yeah, don't need to tell me twice."

"I'd fuck a frozen cactus before bunking with you, asshole." I pull him towards the fridge. "Move your fat ass! I'm hungry."

"Maybe if you spent less time eating and more time working out you'd be able to pull me there yourself." Bucky smirks at his insult skills before taking another drink of beer.

I huff, "And maybe if you got laid every once in a while you'd be a much more tolerable human being."

Bucky's smirk is wiped away. Sam oohs, "Oh damn! Burn!"

Bucky glares over at Sam. "Shut up, Wilson."

The man in the sweater and ugly red shoes just shrugs and laughs. "What? You have to admit that was a good one."

"The only thing Y/N's good at is being obnoxious and whining about the weather." Bucky begrudgingly gives into my demand to walk to the fridge. But when we get there he keeps obnoxiously shutting the door whenever I try to look inside.

"Stop!" I yell. I flick him between the eyes.

His cheeks flush red. "Did you just flick me?!"

"You deserved it," I counter.

"You both deserve this," Steve's voice fills the air. He comes swaggering in with a cup of coffee even though it's already midday. "You're acting like children." He scowls at us like a disappointed father.

"This is stupid, Steve. I have better things to do with my time," Bucky tries to reason with his best friend.

While he's distracted, I manage to get myself a yogurt. "Yeah, Steve," I begin in a sarcasm drenched voice, "Bucky's just so busy. He has so many friends and hobbies, ya know. And he just discovered PornHub, so that left arm of his is gonna get a bit of workout."

Bucky waits until I try to take a bite of my yogurt before yanking our entwined hands. Consequentially the sticky pink dessert spills all over the front of me—down my low cut shirt and dripping down my chin.

"BUCKY!" I scream.

"Oops. Sorry." His wide, toothy grin is anything but apologetic.

"I hate you so much." I try to chuck the yogurt container at his head but he perfectly dodges out of its path. The plastic cup drops uneventfully onto the white tile floor.

"Ditto, brat."

"I'm out of here," Steve sighs. He quickly refills his coffee cup before walking out—waving over his head. "Good luck tonight, guys!"

...

"I don't see why the hell you have to take a shower." Bucky stands just outside the shower curtain with his one arm under the water with me and his eyes screwed shut. The room is filling with steam while I struggle to wash myself with only one hand. There's NO WAY I'm letting one of Bucky's limbs get anywhere NEAR my naked body. Of course we're still entwined, so the limb is in the shower with me, but that's as close as he'll ever get.

I grumble and roll my eyes. "Because, asshole, you poured strawberry yogurt all over my boobs. Sorry I'm not used to smelling like ripe shit like you are."

"I didn't pour it; you were being clumsy."

"Shut up." I finish squeezing the conditioner out of my hair before shutting off the tap. "Okay. Give me a towel."

"You couldn't grab one before, Pipsqueak?" Bucky snaps.

"It's on the counter! Just throw it over for me. It's not that hard," I counter impatiently.

Bucky groans and gripes. He spots the towel on the counter, I can only assume, because I feel the stretch on my arm grow tighter. And then before I can realize what's happening—Bucky's pulling me too hard. With his underestimated step length to the counter, I've been tugged out of the shower stall. I squeal and fall face-first out into the bathroom. The water dripping down my body makes the floor slick enough for us both to slip on. I fall first and Bucky's close behind. I let out a loud groan when his stupid body collides with my stomach.

Bucky's stupidly blue eyes are wide as he stares down at me. He's planted right on top of my naked body with my bare chest pressing up against his and our legs tangled.

"Oh..." he mutters.

"GET THE HELL OFF OF ME!" I yell. I start shoving his heavy ass until he finally snaps out of his trance and rolls over. "DON'T LOOK!" He finally closes his eyes—even going as far to cover them with his metal hand.

"Sorry! Sorry!" he chants a handful of times before I slap him alongside the head. He opens his eyes, gaze immediately looking down at my body, only to find that I'm in my towel now. I whack him again for the disappointed expression he wears upon not finding me naked.

"Stop it! Pervert!" I squeal. My body is fiery red with blush. I feel like I'm on fire as I drag us into my bedroom.

"You—you were naked! I fell!"

"And you looked!" I spin around and glare at him—my hold on my towel so tight that my knuckles are white. "Why the hell would you look?!"

"Because... because—I, you—uh, you—because..." His eyes are wide but he stares up at the ceiling as if he's going to make the mistake of seeing me naked again. His chest is rising and falling rapidly with intense breaths.

"Oh just shut up already," I groan. I turn around and stomp us closer to my closet. "Let's just forget it happened." I glare back at him. "And forget what you saw."

"I didn't—I didn't see anything!" Bucky stutters a lie.

I roll my eyes. "Let me get dressed, dick. Then we can just go to bed."

Bucky, for once in his life, has nothing to say. He closes his eyes and nods softly.

I scoff before letting my towel fall—using the hand that was holding it up before to look around the closet for something to wear. I usually wouldn't wear anything but a pair of briefs to bed, but now... well, that's not happening.

My cuffed hand is down by my side. I feel something strangely soft brushing up against my thigh. I don't think anything of it until it happens again and I realize it's a deliberate motion.

It's Bucky's fingertip.

My head whips back to see what the hell he's doing. His eyes are open again—he's looking right at me. I catch a glimpse of him staring before he pales and shuts his eyes once more. My mouth immediately flies open to yell at him: but something causes me to pause. My blood runs slow, like it's been infected with gelatin, as I replay the image of his eyes when I'd caught him looking at me. It wasn't nasty... it wasn't teasing... it was sort of... nice.

I take a hard swallow and use this opportunity to look at Bucky in a way that I've never been able to before. He's not aware of my eyes as I let them dance over his tall, broad body. Bits of his clothes are wet now from our slip up in the bathroom. I can see his pecs and thighs through his cotton clothes. His long chestnut hair is sloppy and cheeks flushed, but he's still rather pretty.

"You were looking at me," I decide to say. I try to keep all tones out of my voice. I speak slowly and without much purpose.

Bucky's adam's apple drops. I feel a shiver run down my spine with it. "Yes." He doesn't even try to deny it. He knows I'd call him out on the carpet if he lied. Or maybe he wants to tease me about it somehow; but I sort of doubt it.

"Why?" I cock an eyebrow even though he can't see it.

Bucky's face sort of screws up—looking confused. "What?"

I snap, "I asked you why you were looking at me."

Bucky takes too long to answer for my liking. I decide to pinch his elbow when he doesn't respond, making him jump and rush to explain, "Because I think you're beautiful, okay!?" He frowns, eyes still closed, as he whines about the new bruise on his arm that I've made.

My jaw drops. "You're kidding, right? This is just the lead-up to some ultimate insult?"

"What? No." Bucky stands there and I keep staring at him while he does the same for the back of his eyelids. "That'd be cruel."

I scoff, "And the other things we say aren't?"

"Well, I mean, that's... different."

"How?" I shiver as I realize how cold it is to stand naked and wet for too long.

"Because, well, because—I, well, I meant this. And I don't... I don't—well," Bucky stutters. I almost feel sort of bad for the guy.

"And you don't mean the other stuff?"

Bucky only swallows.

"What about when you say that you hate me?" I challenge—not sure if I should be letting my guard down yet. At the same time, I've taken a single step closer. I can tell his fingers are itching to touch my skin again by how he keeps clenching his fists.

I watch with interest when Bucky's thick eyebrows gnarl together. "I never said I hate you."

"You pretty much did," I argue.

"But I never actually did." Bucky feels that I've come to stand directly in front of him now. He dares to open his eyes. But his gaze doesn't look around my body—he stares right at my face. Voice suddenly soft, he says, "I could never hate you."

My tongue has turned to sandpaper. I stare ahead at Bucky's collarbone and he feels the need to keep his pupils locked onto my lips of all places.

He wants to kiss me, and I really want to kiss him too.

"You're stupid," I insult, but the spitfire is gone. I feel Bucky's metal hand brush the hair off of my cheek and trail down my neck. "Y-you're an idiot, B-Barnes..."

Bucky's smile is cocky and cute. He leans down until his lips just barely brush against mine. "Maybe I am, but I'm not nearly as stupid as you," he whispers.

I close my eyes and take a sharp breath. I keep stuttering: my resolve is gone and my feelings twisted around in knots as he keeps coming closer. I hate how he's making me feel so smitten, but I don't hate him. "F-fuck you."

Bucky grins. "Oh I plan on it, Pipsqueak." Then his lips press against mine and our entwined hands grapple to hold onto each other.

...

"You're going to have to call Steve."

"NO! That's—that's fuckin' embarrassing," Bucky whines like a grumpy child. He's adamant in getting himself into some clothes, while I've given up—still naked in the messy bedsheets. My hair is hastily pulled up in a bun that sort of hides the messiness of it.

I rub at my tired eyes. "Stop being weird, Buck. Just call your friend and get the keys and then we can go our separate ways." It's ten in the morning and (I never thought I'd say this) but I had the time of my life with Bucky last night. He's actually a real gentleman...when he wants to be.

Bucky stops in his strange task of trying to wiggle into some jeans with one hand. He almost falls off the bed. "You—what? You mean...?" He looks sort of sad.

I roll my eyes. "No, dumbass. I don't mean it like that—this wasn't a onetime thing. I just mean that I'd like to be able to piss without having you attached to me." I wiggle our chains in the air. "Because I really should've peed a long time ago, but you passed out after round four and I never got the chance. You sleep like a grandpa by the way—your snoring is fucking obnoxious."

Bucky grunts, "You could've woken me up. It's not like I'd care about watchin' you take a piss." He seems more concerned now with fitting his head in his t-shirt hole than our post-coital conversation. "Can you stop blabbering and help me?"

"Help you with what? Getting dressed? You had no problem ripping your clothes off last night," I retort with a smirk. I fiddle with the sheets as he chuckles.

"Umm, no—that was you. I'm going to have to replace that poor shirt you shredded."

"Hey, it wasn't coming off any other way." I shrug innocently. I can't help but cackle at how ridiculous he looks with his t-shirt currently dangling around his neck like a scarf and his metal arm caught up in the fabric. "Okay, that's it—I'm calling Steve."

"No! I don't want him to see us like this!"

"Why the hell not? Isn't that something boys like to brag about anyway?" I've reached for my phone and started typing out a message for Steve.

"Y/N, stop it! I don't want him to see..."

"Too late, asshole." I toss my phone to the end of the bed and smirk. "He's on his way."

Bucky's frown makes a laugh bubble up my throat. "Fuck you."

I wink. "You already did."

He rolls his blue eyes, but he's blushing slightly. I never noticed that he'd blush, but since that kiss last night he's done it at least a dozen times. It's pretty endearing, if I do say so.

I squeal when I feel him pinch my thigh. "You're a brat."

"But you like it," I tease him.

He huffs—trying to hide his most private bits with a blanket for when Steve comes in. "Yeah, I kinda do." His eyes dance over to where I'm lying beside him. With a grunt he hurriedly covers my body—tucking the sheets over me three or four times over before seeming pleased. "No one else gets to see you," Bucky mutters.

"Fine by me," I say, and when I do, Bucky hears how softly I've said it. And he smiles when he sees that I'm wearing one, too. Then he leans over to kiss me. His lips are soft and gentle, unlike much of our banter that we still spit back and forth (just slightly gentler than before). Who would've known that all of those insults were just built up sexual and romantic tensions? I sure as hell didn't, but it makes sense now. Especially when I think about all the times I'd hate him extra when he'd be with another girl or making eyes at someone at Tony's parties. Oh, how I'd tortured him with extra insults on those occasions.

"What the fuck!?"

Our kiss breaks apart. Bucky's dark haired head spins back and my eyes blink wide to stare at the door. Steve, Tony, and Sam are all lingering there in the doorway. Sam's the one who screamed—he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bucky looks like he's going to either punch someone in the face or throw himself out the window.

"Hey, boys." I smirk. "Can we get those keys now, Stevie? I think getting it on counts as getting along, don't you think?"

"Did you know this was gonna happen?" Sam gapes at Steve.

Steve tosses the keys into the air and Bucky skillfully catches them. Immediately Bucky gets to work unlocking us.

Steve shrugs. "I had an idea." The smirk on his face is devious. "Come on, boys. Leave 'em alone." He tugs Tony by the collar when he doesn't want to budge—staring with wide eyes.

"Eyes off, Stark," Bucky growls. He strategically places his glaring metal arm in front of me—blocking my bundled body from Tony's eyes. My bed partner glares at Tony who quickly swallows and composes himself enough to leave.

Sam's shaking his head and muttering to himself as they leave. "I don't even know what to think..."

Steve laughs before closing the door, "You're welcome, kids."

With the door closed and everyone gone I start giggling. At first Bucky's annoyed, but it's not long before he's laughing too. Then with both of my hands free I run my fingers through his hair and kiss his lips. "You seemed a little territorial back there, Sargent."

Bucky huffs. He presses his face into my neck. I feel his peppered kisses taking my breath away before he pulls back enough to say, "And you seemed a little too proud."

"Hell right I'm proud," I laugh. "You're avoiding the topic."

Bucky's smirk makes my heart leap. "You may be a pain in the ass, but you're my pain in the ass." He holds my waist for the first time with both hands. I shiver at the slightly scratchy feeling of his rough palm on my soft skin. "Got it, baby?"

I lightly tug on his ear—just to mess with him. "Shut up and kiss me, jerk."

Bucky chuckles lightly as he closes the distance between our anxiously poised lips. "Gladly."