A Lesson in Love {2}
College!AU
Smarty Pants!Bucky x Cheerleader!Reader
Synopsis: Being a newly metamorphosed social butterfly certainly has its perks: an amazing friend group, a position on the cheer squad you’ve dreamed about for years, and the ability to make connections everywhere you go. Unfortunately, it doesn't make you any better at Linear Algebra, enter Bucky Barnes.
Warnings: Cursing, awkward reader, James Barnes being a menace, probs cringy writing, most definitely not proofread <3
A/N: Part 2! Hooray! I’m not super happy with it, but to be fair i’m never happy with my work so whomp whomp to me. Hopefully you guys like it, next part will intro a new character and perhaps some drama will occur~
Part one
~~~~~~~~~~
Fluorescent light floods the space, the fixtures letting out a quiet hum that harmonizes with the consistent drone of the radiator up against the wall. The windows do little to help light up the room as overcast skies tease the possibility of rain. The room is warm, a contrast to the uncharacteristically chill weather outside, and with the calming white noise, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone used the space as more of a nap pod than a study room located in your university’s library.
And yet, even with what some would consider the perfect environment-
“I think I’m dying,” You groan, head slowly falling to rest upon the cool surface of the desk, “Seriously, I can feel the life draining from my body as we speak.”
An amused snort sounds from directly beside you, ”You’re not dying, just dramatic,”
Your head whips up at the accusation, eyebrows furrowed as your lips puff out into a frowning pout, “How could you say that? Look at me, I’m wasting away! Whoever invented this stuff should be burned at the stake” you grumble quietly and hold your glare on the man next to you.
James lets out a boisterous laugh, relaxing back into the office chair he’s sat in as he tilts his head and raises a curious brow at you, “Have you eaten today, Sugar? It’s nearly 1 o’clock and we’ve been here for over two hours,”
The pout adorning you face solidifies as he zeroes in on your failure to eat, “I got distracted while getting ready and didn’t have time to grab anything before heading over,” You break away from James’ gaze and stare down at your notebook, a small wave of embarrassment washing over you.
The reason you didn’t have time to eat was due to the fact you had to stand in front of your bathroom mirror for an extra 15 minutes to keep yourself from bailing out of the study session entirely. It had been two weeks since you had sat next to the brunette man that complimented your stickers and called you a sweet pet name, and those two weeks had been the most socially awkward you’ve felt since you had graduated high school. The stuttering, stumbling, word-vomiting self you had tried so hard to shove down into the dark depths of your mind had made a startling appearance in the last few weeks and you were struggling to understand why. All confidence left you as soon as James entered your eyeline, and frankly, it was making you spiral.
Was it his looks? No, that can’t be it. All of your friends were major hotties so you’d gotten used to being around ethereal beauty.
Was it the pet names? Also no, Stevie and Lena gave you pet names within the first week of knowing you!
Was it how close he always insisted on being to you? That-well that certainly wasn’t helping the situation. He’s just so warm and his cologne is to die for-
“Hey Sweets? You okay over there?” Your head jerks back up and whips over to find James looking at you with mild concern clouding his eyes.
“Oh what? Yea-no, or yes, yes I’m okay! Why do you ask?” Your hand subconsciously balls into a fist as you silently will the burn in your cheeks to subside. Pull yourself together for god's sake!
“I asked if you wanted to go grab something to eat and you kinda just…zoned out?” His questioning eyes were trained on your face, looking over your features to see if he could find a clue to your strange behavior.
”Right! Sorry, I guess maybe the lack of eating really is getting to me,” You mumble quietly.
James leans towards you, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder before nodding, “That’s alright, let’s go get you something to eat-“
Before he could finish his offer, he was interrupted by the familiar buzz of his phone on the table. Your classmate immediately slaps his hand down onto the device and silences it, letting out a quiet sigh. Curiosity overtakes your embarrassment and you look at your study partner inquisitively, “That's like the third time someone’s called you, maybe you should answer it this time?”
He shakes his head and smiles down at you as he stands, “Nah it’s nothing important. C’mon, I know a really good diner that’s right off campus,” He doesn’t wait for any confirmation before putting your notebook away and slinging both your bags over his broad shoulder.
You stare up at him for a moment, a little stunned at his boldness and questioning if he was joking or not, “A-are you sure? Because the test tomorrow seems like it’s gonna be pretty difficult and I’m not sure if I’ve done enough prep work yet.”
James gives you an understanding nod, “You’re not gonna retain anything if you’re starving, Sugar. Once we get some food in you, I promise we’ll come back here and finish studying.”
“Yeah I guess you’re right, does the diner have good french fries?” You look up at James with hopeful eyes as the thought of one of your favorite foods comes to mind.
He snorts out a laugh and nods his head, “Yes the diner has excellent french fries.”
———————
Thankfully, James wasn’t lying when he said the diner wasn’t too far away, as the weather seemed to only worsen as time passed. By the time you had arrived and James was kindly holding the door to the restaurant open for you, a chill had settled deep within your body, the wind had picked up dramatically and the clouds had darkened even more in color.
“Spring storm I guess? If it gets any worse we can just wait it out here, they have free WiFi and everything so we’ll be all set,” James comments as he leads you over to a small booth in the corner with a window that gives a perfect view for the upcoming storm.
You nod and begin to take in your surroundings. It certainly wasn’t the most modern diner you had ever been in, kind of reminded you of the one your grandparents would take you to as a kid. The dark green upholster on all the seats was worn, even cracked in some booths, and the floor looked like it had seen better days. But the waitress that greeted you was friendly and the smells coming from the kitchen window were making your mouth water.
”Hey Bucky! How’s your day goin’? Who’s your little friend here?” The chirping voice of the waitress brings you back to the surface of your mind as she approaches the table.
Your head tilts curiously at the unfamiliar name, but you quickly recover to smile up at the middle aged woman as James replies.
“Hi Donna,” James replies, a bright smile on his face as he introduces you as his new study partner, “It’s going good, just taking a break from studying for a bit, how about yourself?”
The waitress replies enthusiastically, recounting her day and telling James about her son giving her a hard time when getting ready for school earlier in the morning. James, (or Bucky?) laughs at her story before quickly glancing towards you with a smile, “You want anything to drink, Sugar?”
You’re taken off guard by the question thrown your way, “O-oh sorry, um yeah- Could I have like a hot chocolate maybe?”
”Hot chocolate huh?” James looks at you, his eyes still crinkled into that charming smile.
You once again feel your cheeks flare up as you realize the childish order, “O-or coffee, I mean, coffee is good!” You glance between the waitress, Donna, and James, silently hoping now that you’ve ordered they could go back to talking.
“Oh don’t let him tease you, sweetheart. Our hot coco is to die for here, and I like to dress it up with all the fixin’s so don’t you worry,” She smiles down at you and gives you a mischievous wink before jotting your order down on a notepad.
You mumble a quiet thanks and immerse yourself in the menu that was slipped onto the table earlier. James gives his order to Donna before stating you’d both need a couple minutes to decide what you’d like to eat. As your waitress departs to begin fulfilling your orders, James turns his attention back to you. You fail to notice his stare as your attention remains locked onto the pages of the menu, and it’s not until you’re deciding between pancakes or a burger that he breaks your focus.
A little ball of paper hits your forehead, taking you by surprise and causing you to let out a grumble of discontent, “What the hell James?”
You look up from your menu, surprised by the plastic cups of water Donna had managed to deliver without disturbing you and realizing the object that hit you must have been a balled up straw wrapper. You glare down at the little piece of ammo before fixing your glare onto James’ mischievously glinting eyes, “Can I help you?”
His smile widens and he moves to lean his forearms on the table, his eyes turning from mischief to intensity as they narrow, “Yeah, actually you can,” he nods before leaning forward even more, “What’s your deal, Sugar?”
You instinctively try to lean further back into your own seat but only meet a wall, “What do you mean ‘what’s my deal’? What’s your deal, Bucky?” Your eyes narrow just like his, and even though you’re basically plastering yourself against the wall of the booth, you try to look as intimidating as possible.
‘Bucky’ leans over the table even more, comically so to the point where he’s basically kneeling on the bench, inadvertently making you let out some garbled hybrid of laughter and discomfort, “How do you know about that name?” He asks accusingly, his right hand shooting out to point a finger in your face.
You guffaw, face contorting into a look of absolute disbelief as you go to defend yourself, “James the waitress literally called you that like five minutes ago,” You deadpan, no wonder this guy was failing your math class.
James somehow manages to narrow his eyes even more and it starts a staring (or glaring) contest between you both. Your expression changes from disbelief at his cartoonish reaction, to unamused as you refuse to let him win the silly challenge. The two of you sit in silence for who knows how long, your eyes are beginning to feel a slight sting on your waterline and you’re almost sure James is cheating with how squinted he’s made his eyes. You nearly give in just to end the ridiculous game when suddenly two mugs of hot coco, brightly decorated in whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, are unceremoniously set down on the table. The loud clap of ceramic on wood makes both of you break and look up at Donna who is sporting an awkward, albeit friendly, smile.
“Everything alright over here?” She asks, glancing between you and James as she cautiously slides each mug towards their respective owner.
“All good over here Donna! You ready to order some food, Sweets?” James’ suspicion has completely melted away as he now casually leans against the back of the booth, sporting a lopsided grin.
“I-Uh yeah, yeah I guess so…” You murmur, quickly flipping through your menu again and making sure you recite the correct menu item to Donna as you order.
Donna makes sure to jot down both yours and James’ orders, along with any modifications that were requested before quickly making her way back to the kitchen, leaving you and James in another drought of silence. You take the chance to look around the diner once again, trying to ignore the feeling of James staring at you from across the table. You hear the faint scraping of ceramic sliding across the table and before you’re able to tear your eyes away from the downpour happening outside the window, James is out of his seat and gliding right back into yours, unabashedly crowding into you.
His right arm goes up to drape across the back of the booth while his left rests on the edge of the wood table. As soon as you notice what’s happening, a squeak of surprise pushes out of your lips and you begin to scoot closer to the window, James immediately following you and effectively trapping you in the corner of the booth. His cologne surrounds you, the warm, spicy scent of cinnamon takes over your senses and the body heat that begins to radiate off of him and on to you nearly sends you into a spiral.
“You didn’t answer my question, Honey Bee,” James hums smoothly, his eyes hooded as he looks down at you.
You immediately want to tell him that nickname is reserved for Steve but are unable to as you become distracted by how positively close he is to you. You’re able to make out details never before noticed from your previous, appropriately distanced, encounters. Every impossibly long eyelash that brushes against his sharp, freckle dusted cheekbones, the different hues of blue that marble his icy pupils, the rough stubble that signifies the beginning of a beard.
It feels like lava is injected into your veins and a fiery heat races up your neck to the tips of your ears. You stutter out a few incomprehensible words, trying to look anywhere but at the man who is taking up most of your field of vision. Your hands clench into stressed fists as they clam up from a mix of stress and shear shyness.
“I-I don’t… I’m not really sure w-what your-what you could be talking about James,” You mutter quietly, continuing to push yourself up against the window to achieve a modicum of space.
“That right there,” James nods in your direction, “Sweetheart, you’re known as the campus’ social butterfly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not talking to somebody, but whenever we get together for our study sessions you go all-“ He waves a hand haphazardly towards your scrunched up form, “gooey,” He finishes with finality, dropping his waving hand back down onto the table.
You don’t say it out loud, but gooey is a far cry to what you feel right now, tight and strung out, waiting for your strings to finally reach their limit before they inevitably snap.
James only waits a moment before speaking again, “It’s like every time we get together you wanna melt into the floor, you never want to push too hard, or your always bending to what you think I’d prefer. I know you aren’t like that with anyone else, Sugar. I saw you try to put Roger’s into a headlock last week and-“
”Y-you know Steve?” You interrupt suddenly, your brows furrowing curiously as you finally turn your gaze to James.
His reaction to your question makes it look like you caught him in some type of lie, and you actually start to think you might actually have. Ever since you had talked to James that day in your lecture, neither him nor Steve had made any indication of knowing each other, even if one was brought up by you in conversation with the other.
”Oh uhm…” James actually scoots back a bit, giving you the space to take a much needed breath. He breaks your gaze and glances around the booth, nervously tapping his index finger against the table, “I mean-y’know everybody kinda just, like, knows each other, ya know?”
You look at him, perplexed by the out of character reaction, “I guess, but you called him Roger’s and he only lets his close friends call him that.” Your head tilts as you look over the man's strange demeanor, “So do you guys know each other or…?”
”I think we should change the subject-“ He starts but before he can get very far you interrupt.
”Why are you being so dodgy about knowing Stevie?” You ask more firmly, gaining confidence as you realize your positions of interrogation have flipped.
”Why are you always so gooey around me?”
You scoff, “I am not gooey around you-“
James holds up a hand before you can continue your bickering, “Let’s make a deal. You drop the Steve thing, and I won’t comment on your gooey-ness-“
”But I’m not gooey!” You protest, voice strained and cheeks burning.
James puts his hand out for you to shake and raises a brow, “Deal or no deal, goober?”
You can’t help but let out a frustrated puff of air, your lips pouting out as you look up at him, “Fine. But you can’t call me goober ever again, and you have to tell me why Donna called you Bucky.” You grab his hand and wait for a response.
“I’ll tell you if I get to keep calling you goober,” He wagers, a sly grin spreading across his lips.
”You get a limit of once a day,” You deadpan.
“Make it five,” His grin grows wider and his grip on your hand firmer.
”Three,” You grumble, your pouted lips turning downward into a small frown.
”You got yourself a deal, goob,” James shakes your hand with finality and finally leans back to give you an appropriate amount of space.
You roll your eyes and snatch your hand back from his, “Pay up, you freak,” you grumble half heartedly.
James barks out a laugh at the lame insult, taken a little off guard by your sudden snappiness, “It’s nothing crazy, just a childhood nickname that followed me into adulthood. My middle name is Buchanan, so it’s just a shortened version,” He explains a bit bashfully, his eyes failing to keep contact with yours, “Most people call me Bucky unless it’s a professional thing or whatever,”
You try not to feel the disappointment of being categorized as ‘a professional thing or whatever’.
You nod your head in faux nonchalance, “That’s cool,”
James snorts at your lackluster reaction, “If you want, you can call me Bucky.”
You glance up at Bucky and back down to the table, biting down on your lip to hold back you smile, “O-okay,”
Bucky grins and lets out a quiet chuckle before turning to greet Donna as she cheerily arrives with your meals, pretending like she doesn’t notice that Bucky has switched to your side of the booth. She quickly restates each order and asks if anything else is needed, James confirms that everything looks fantastic and you both thank her before she walks away. You begin to dig into your plate, humming quietly at the flavorful scramble that melts in your mouth as you realize how truly hungry you are. Arithmetic and bickering with a handsome classmate really works up an appetite apparently. James begins to dig in to his as well, gracelessly shoving large bites of pancakes into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in years. You silently roll your eyes and continue on with your meal as you both enjoy your meals.
It’s only after a few minutes of wordless eating that Bucky speaks, “Y’know I like when you get feisty with me. Makes me get all hot n’ bothered,” He states simply, taking a break from stuffing his face to smirk down at you.
You shrink into yourself at his comment, the heat in your neck and face coming back like a tsunami. Your eyes stay fixed on your plate as you stiffly stab your fork into the pile of hash browns in the corner. You grumble out your response and pretend like you aren’t burning up from embarrassment.
“Shut up n’ eat your pancakes you freak,”
~~~~
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