Gorgeous ll Bucky Barnes x reader
warnings/tags: non, fluff, total fluff, fem reader, drinking word count: 1226 a/n: wrote this in an hour because i saw an edit of bucky to this song on tiktok and couldnt get it out of my head
It had been a long time since you’d been to the tower—maybe a year or two. A robot had nearly taken over the world (well, nearly decimated it, but details).
The tower still looked as it always did: people rushing around, trying to make something of themselves under the Stark name. The only difference now was that the Avengers had moved upstate. In an official capacity, anyway.
Stark still liked to host his parties at the tower, much to the dismay of his security.
When you got the invite, you rolled your eyes and ignored it. But then Pepper texted you to come, and you sighed, found a dress, and now stood in the middle of a sea of rich people.
Tony called out your name as he stumbled into you; he shook you, lifting you off the floor for a second.
“Tony,” you greeted him, giving him a small hug.
If there was one thing Tony Stark was, it was eccentric.
“No drink? Have mine,” he said, pressing his glass into your hand.
“You’re already drunk,” you snorted.
“I’m convinced Nat is giving me watered-down shit,” Tony replied seriously. “You have this. I’m going to get the real stuff.” He wiggled his brows. “Oh look, there’s Capsicle and his assassin buddy.”
He pushed you in Steve’s direction. Steve greeted you with a smile. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I didn’t either,” you replied, taking a sip of the drink Tony handed you. You scrunched your nose. “This is not watered down.”
“Tony?”
“Tony,” you confirmed with a nod. “Here, you take it. It tastes horrid.”
“Then have mine. It’s something strawberry.” You swapped glasses, clinked them together.
“Oh, this is my friend Bucky,” Steve said, turning you to face the man who was watching you both.
If anyone asked why you choked on your drink, you’d say it was because you drank too quickly.
The truth was: Bucky was a gorgeous man. Tall, dark-haired, and too handsome to be real. Ocean-blue eyes that made you feel like you were drowning. Your breath hitched—you couldn’t look away. His hair fell around his face, sharpening his already rugged features. His broad shoulders were hugged by a fitted black shirt that had to be a size too small. It was ridiculous. How was this man just that handsome?
“A pleasure,” you said, holding out a hand that you hoped wasn’t clammy. Internally, you were on fire. He looked way too cool to be at this party. Full offence to the rest of the Avengers.
“The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.”
His hands were calloused and firm, but soft enough to feel like a pillow to your own. His hand engulfed yours and you were pissed. Even his hands are hot.
“Ma’am?” You snickered, trying to ignore your thoughts. “Very Steve of you.”
“Bucky’s my friend from the war,” Steve explained quickly. You blinked at him, then looked back at Bucky, who was glancing between you both. If he looked at you for more than a second, you were sure you’d implode.
“That… makes sense,” you said, swallowing down your drink. “I’m going to get another. Want anything?”
“Whisky on ice?” Steve asked Bucky, who nodded.
If you took two shots at the bar, no one knew. Except Natasha, who raised an eyebrow. You shook your head, hoping she wouldn’t ask.
You returned with their drinks and your own, which you stared at instead of looking at Bucky.
Pool was played. Your body relaxed as the night went on. You were convinced Sam was cheating, but since he was on your team, you said nothing.
“Switch?” you heard and thought nothing of it—until Bucky stood at your side instead of Sam. You took another sip of your drink, bracing yourself.
“You want to go first?” he asked. You just nodded silently, not trusting your voice.
If you watched him lean over the pool table, that was between you and God. If you sighed when he grinned at Steve after potting a ball, you hoped no one heard. You were furious. There was no way this man was real. You didn’t know if you were mad that he was gorgeous, or that he wasn’t yours.
You snapped upright at your own thought.
Sam moved a ball with the back of his stick and you pointed at him. “That’s cheating!”
“I didn’t even touch it,” Sam said, offended.
“You’re lying. I saw it with these two eyes, man.”
“You sure? Pretty sure you were checking out Buck’s ass.” Sam grinned as he took his shot.
Your face burnt. But before you could respond, Bucky answered coolly, “Don’t call me Buck.”
He disregarded Sam’s comment like it was nothing.
Your thoughts spiralled. Why didn’t he react? Did he know? How obvious were you? Was he ignoring it because it was awkward? Oh god—what if he hated you now?
Unconsciously, you drifted closer to Bucky like he had his own gravitational pull. Your team won and you threw up a finger in Sam’s direction.
“In your face!”
You ducked into the bathroom. As you washed your hands, your thoughts raced. Did he have a girlfriend? Whoever she was, she was lucky. If he didn’t—why not? You pressed your cold hands to your cheeks, trying to ground yourself. The bathroom definitely made you feel more drunk than you actually were.
When you stumbled out (from the shoes, not the alcohol), you unfortunately bumped into the plague of your thoughts. Bucky.
“You alright there, doll?” His hands burnt against your bare arms—even the one made of metal.
“Doll?” You echoed. “I… doll.”
If you’d short-circuited, it must’ve shown—his face turned worried.
“I’m okay,” you rushed out with a quick nod.
He smiled, and your insides melted. “Good. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”
“Are you single?” You blurted.
His eyes widened. Yours did too. And before he could respond, you spun on your heel and rushed down the corridor.
The landing pad was blessedly empty. The rails were up, the wind was sharp, and the New York skyline was hazy in mist.
“So stupid,” you muttered, leaning over the rail.
It had to be the alcohol. You hadn’t acted like this since high school. First, you could barely speak to him. Then you asked if he was single. And every time he looked at you, it was like your whole body went up in flames. Maybe that was his superpower—making people fall for him.
The door opened.
You didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“Oh god,” you mumbled, not realising he could hear you.
He walked over, sleeves rolled up, eyes drifting across the skyline before landing on you.
“I am so sorry,” you began, already rambling. “I shouldn’t have asked that earlier. It was stupid. And I’m sorry about Sam’s comment. The question just came out like word vomit and I couldn’t stop it, and running away was definitely worse, and I’m just—really sorry.”
He stared at you with those blue eyes again. His hair was pushed back, showing more of his face.
“I am,” he said. “Are you?”
You blinked. “What?”
“I’m single. Are you?” He repeated, hands in his pockets.
You blinked again. Deer in headlights. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but just nodded instead.
He smiled at your expression. “May I take you out to dinner, then?”
You nodded again, stiffly. What in the actual fuck was happening?
“Let’s get back inside before you catch a chill,” he said, holding out his arm. Without thinking, you took it.
“You’re pretty cute, you know.”
You grinned and looked away, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You’re gorgeous. It should be illegal.”
He laughed, head thrown back, as you both walked into the party again.
You glanced up at him, studying him for a moment.
He truly was gorgeous.