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Butterflies

Summary: The reader is nervous about going to an awards ceremony and Bucky helps the reader through it

Warnings: A couple of swears, nothing else really.

Word Count: 1,870

A/N: It’s taken me a lot of time to get back into writing. I don’t know if this will be a regular thing but I had an idea on my day off today and wanted to put it out there. It’s also been a while since I’ve written something that wasn’t academic so don’t be too harsh lol.

You stared at todays date on the calendar, reading the words hastily scrawled out in red letters: AWARDS CEREMONY – 7PM. Looking down at the clothes you were wearing, you let out a deep sigh. If only you could rock up to these kinds of things in jeans and an old t-shirt. Alas, it was time to begin the long process of getting ready. Most people usually have a glam squad or something to help make getting ready a whole lot smoother, but you’re just a plus one so you don’t get that kind of luxury.

Walking into your bedroom you head towards your wardrobe, opening the doors and pulling out the only dress currently hung up in a fancy bag with the tags still attached. You carefully draped the item on your bed before sitting down at your vanity, staring at yourself. Every imperfection and flaw was glaring at you, like they were holding a sign and screaming at the top of their lungs for attention. Dark under eyes, spots forming here and there, uneven eyebrows and pores the size of potholes. You shuddered as you overanalysed yourself, reaching for your primer and applying it to your face. There’s only so much a person can do when striving for perfection and unfortunately awards ceremonies demand perfection – especially when cameras are involved.

You apply your make-up as best you could, eventually accepting the fact that your skills do not match those of make-up artists and set about styling your hair. You decide that soft and loose curls are the best way to go about things and start curling your hair, focusing so hard on trying not to burn yourself. Eventually your hair is curled and set and all that is left is to don the dress that lay neatly tucked away in a bag. You turn around in your chair, eyeing the hidden dress uneasily. The last time you were this glammed up was for your senior prom and that was terrifying then. Knowing that your photograph could end up plastered across the internet for all to see sent your stomach churning. What would people think? What would they say? Would it be a good idea to make your accounts private so that you wouldn’t be verbally abused by people? Okay, stop it now. You’re being silly.

With a deep breath, you rose from your seat and headed towards the dress, unzipping the bag and staring at the deep red hue of the dress. It was mesmerising to say the least. You thought the dress was beautiful and stunning. A work of art for no more than $150 but you knew there would be people there in outfits that cost 10 times the price. Regardless, you picked the dress up from the bag and pulled it on. You loved the lace bodice and sleeves, the little embellishments that made the dress look as though it was dripping jewels in certain lights. Zipping the dress up, you stared at yourself in the full length mirror. The dress hugged your figure perfectly but something still wasn’t quite right. You delved into your wardrobe, searching for the one pair of shoes you knew could bring this look together. With a triumphant smile, you slipped the heels on and looked at yourself once more. You could still see your imperfections, but they weren’t as loud anymore. If people were looking for what was wrong then they weren’t appreciating what was right. You were satisfied. Not happy, but satisfied would suffice.

Grabbing the belongings you would need for the night, you stuffed them inside your clutch and called for an Uber to pick you up.

Half an hour later and you were around the corner from the venue where you had agreed to meet your date for the night. You fidgeted nervously with the hem of your sleeves, wondering how long he was going to be. You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, opening up your last conversation.

Y/N: Heyy, how long do you think you’ll be? x

B: …

You watched as the dots appeared, then disappeared just as quick. Letting out a resigned sigh, you put your phone back in your bag, settling for watching the world go by as you waited. You played the game of imagining why each person was doing what they were doing, who they were going to see or where they were headed.

Finally after what felt like forever, a black car pulled up beside you and the passenger side window rolled down. You leaned forward to see who was in the car when Sam’s head popped out the window, a smile on his face. “Well don’t you scrub up well! Hop on in!”

“Oh, I was supposed to be meeting-”

“I know. He’s in the car.” Sam said with a smile. “I didn’t think it was right for you guys to walk to an awards ceremony.”

You nod your head as Sam disappears back inside the car, opening the back door and scooting yourself inside, trying not to crease your dress. No more than two minutes later and you had arrived at the venue. A red carpet was rolled out and there were photographers clambering for the best shot. You could feel your palms getting sweaty and rubbed them against the side of the seats, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself.

“See you kids in there.” Sam chimes, climbing out of the car as a barrage of flashing lights streak across your vision.

As the lights begin the fade, you look across at the man next to you, a small smile spreading across your face. “You cut your hair!” You exclaim, noticing how much younger he looks with his hair cropped short.

“Well, I decided to see if I did feel like a different person with shorter hair.”

“And...?”

“I feel lighter that’s for sure. A different person not so much.” He says with a chuckle before a soft quiet falls over us. He looks outside the window for a moment before turning back to you. “I think its our turn. Ready?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You let out a nervous laugh. “As I’ll ever be.”

He reaches for the door handle, a small click sounding as it opens.

“Buck?” You whisper just loud enough to grab his attention. He stops and looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Don’t let me fall.” You whimper, your voice giving away how nervous you really were.

Shaking his head, he steps out of the car, painting a smile onto his face as he walks around to your side of the car. The door opens slowly and the camera lights are flashing so quickly you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Bucky holds out his hand for your and you take it willingly, holding on to him as tight as you could for fear of falling. Bucky shuts the car door behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you towards the doors of the venue.

“You look beautiful.” He whispers, giving you a quick squeeze and making it feel like butterflies could explode out of your chest. “Let everyone else see it too.”

You come to a stop in front of a small ‘x’ and look up at Bucky wondering how someone who had endured so much pain could still have so much more left to give to the world. “I guess we need to smile for the cameras and pretend like we’re not shitting it.”

Bucky lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head, “Got it in one.” He says, plastering a smile on his face.

You follow his lead, smiling for the cameras and following what the photographers suggest before heading inside with Bucky. The second the doors are closed behind you, you feel your legs turn to jelly and rely on Bucky entirely to get you to the closest seat. Your heart is beating erratically as you sit down, trying to focus on your breathing rather than where you are and how many photos must have been taken of you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, sitting down beside you.

You nod your head, trying hard to breathe in for 7, hold for 6 and breathe out for 5. You can faintly hear someone else’s breathing only slightly louder than usual and find yourself starting to match their breathing pattern, your heart rate eventually slowing down.

“I read somewhere that sometimes it helps to use someone else’s breath pattern to sort of reset your own.” He says, placing a hand on your knee.

“Well, in this case it worked.” You say breathily, your cheeks reddening a little from embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. It happens to the best of us. We just have to find the right way of dealing with it.”

You nod your head, smiling a little. “Buck, I’ve not really had a chance to say this yet but I’m glad you blipped back. I really like having you in my life.” You say, avoiding his eyes in fear that if your gaze met your face would be redder than your dress.

“I’m glad to have you in mine.” He says, taking the hand that was on your knee and wrapping it around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you can feel your heart speed up again for an entirely different reason, the butterflies threatening to escape once again.

“Took you long enough!” Sam’s voice booms from around the corner.

You look up, quickly scooting away from Bucky ever so slightly, directing your attention towards Sam. “What do you mean?” You ask, a confused expression crossing your face.

“Oh.. uh y’know, getting inside from the car. You know I was stuck talking to spiderboy whilst waiting for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you stood up from your seat. “You really need to ease up on that kid. After all he did beat your ass.”

“That was one time!” Sam exclaims, storming off to wear he came from.

You shook you head as you watched him go, feeling Bucky stand behind you.

“You know that’s not what he meant right.” Bucky whispers, his mouth inches from your ear.

You turn around, a small smile playing on your face. “Oh, I know. “ You say, readjusting Bucky’s tie so that it laid straight, your hand lingering against his chest. “Maybe someday you can show me somewhere a little more personal?” You say, quirking an eyebrow.

“It’d be my pleasure.” He says, taking hold of your hand and pressing a kiss to it.

You feel a blush creep up under your skin, pulling your hand away and clearing your throat. “Maybe we should save Sam from the kid.” You say, turning around and heading in the direction Sam went.

“You’re probably right.” Bucky says, falling in step with you.

“I don’t know how much help you’ll be though considering he kicked your ass too…” You say, trailing off as a smirk plays at the edge of your lips.”

“Again, that was one time.” Bucky says with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around you.