Draw your oc December: Tabby. My 'mad' scientist character. She is a woman of two worlds, master geneticist claiming the creation powers of a god, and a ditsy seiso social influencer. Cutesy Model by day, lawful evil scientist by night (basically).
Story: Bucky Barnes doesn’t like you, and you don’t like him either. Your hateful relationship gets tested when you have to go on a mission with the Avengers together.
Warnings: more swearing oops
A/N: took a WHILe but I finally finished the third part! Let me know what y’all think!!
PART ONE | PART TWO
You had spent the past couple of hours helplessly staring at your clothes, scouring through all the dresses you owned, yet none of them appeared to be of a quality high enough to suit Bucky. If you were going to be by his side for an entire night, you were bound to up your game by a thousand fold. He would undoubtedly look astonishingly handsome in one of his fantastic suits; if you were going to be his pretend-girlfriend for now, you had to look at least acceptable. And none of your dresses were good enough.
Perhaps Nat had spent the day reading your mind, because precisely at half past five, when you were on the verge of surrendering and calling yourself in sick, she entered your room with a large body bag. Knowing Nat, you wouldn’t have been surprised had there been an actual corpse in there.
“I come bearing gifts,” Nat said enthusiastically, zipping the bag open, revealing a dozen gorgeous dresses. “I figured you’d be panicking right about now, so I’ve come to be your savior. Happy?”
You attacked her with a firm hug. “Yes. Fuck yes, thank you. If I’m going to a party with—”
“Bucky?”
“—the Avengers, I better make sure I look damn good, right?”
“Sure,” Nat giggled a little. “There will be a lot of paparazzi that will all be dying to take a picture of you on the arm of the Winter Soldier. So, yes, you better make sure you look damn good.”
You ended up selecting a wonderful red dress that nicely hugged the curves of your body, with a high neck and an open back. Nat did your make-up and you sought out your jewelry, looking fancy as fuck when both of you were done with you. “Trust me, babe,” Nat promised you before returning to her own room, “You are going to blow his mind.”
*****
It was fair to say that, now that the time had come, you were quivering like a frightened little chicken. Never before had you been so nervous for a date, let alone a fake one. You stood at the top of the stairs, spotting Bucky downstairs in the corner of your eye. You pressed your eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep, deep breath. It was going to be okay. The worst thing that could happen was that Bucky would start hating you, but he was doing that already anyway.
You stepped out of the shadows, taking another deep breath, revealing yourself to the outside world.
When Bucky saw you, his jaw dropped a little. The sight of you left him speechless. For a solid couple of seconds, he stood gawking at you, looking you up and down, before he finally managed to regroup himself. “You… You look—You don’t look hideous.”
You glared over at him; him in his neat black on black suit and cute bowtie, all refreshed and gorgeous. Your hate for the man didn’t blind you, and he was handsome as fuck. Yet you made a dismissive face. “I wish I could say the same.”
In true date fashion, he held out his arm and you hooked your arm behind his elbow. Bucky puffed out a breath. “Okay, what I meant to say, doll, is that you look very beautiful.”
“Really?” you couldn’t help yourself feeling overtly bewildered. “Well, thank you. You… You look rather handsome yourself, Buck. I like the black on black.”
“Thanks, doll,” Bucky smiled a little too widely.
You noticed it was strangely comfortable to walk arm in arm with Bucky Barnes. He was warm and strong, and he held you firmly. He walked you to the limo that was anticipating your arrival outside, and like a proper gentleman, held the door open for you. It was a smaller limo than you had expected—apparently, there were separate limo’s for all of you or something. This one was just for Bucky and you.
The driver swirled around to face you. “You two were late. The other limo left half an hour ago—you were supposed to be here at six thirty. So the other Avengers are already at the party.” The man frowned a little when he reached over to the passenger’s seat to grab something. “Mr. Stark told me to give you this.” It was a bottle of incredibly expensive-looking champagne.
“Stark sucks,” Bucky hummed under his breath to you while he accepted the champagne from the driver, and carefully handed the rose to you. Out loud, he said, “Thank you very much, sir. I hope we can join them at Duke Holland’s party soon.” The driver then rolled up a window and granted the two of you your privacy. Bucky popped open the champagne and poured a glass for you. “Here.”
You accepted the glass, throwing it back.
“Jeez,” said Bucky, “Why don’t I just give you the whole bottle?”
“Great idea,” you commented quickly, stealing the bottle out of Bucky’s hands, putting the finish to your lips, taking long swigs.
The champagne made your throat tickle, until Bucky stole the bottle back. “Fuck you, I want to drink too. I hate parties. Save something for me, thank you very much.” And then, being a super soldier who could probably deal with alcohol too well, he chugged the entire contents of the bottle.
After finishing it, you let out an indignant gasp and punched him against the shoulder. “No way! That’s so selfish.”
Bucky shrugged, placing the empty bottle down beside him. “You were planning to do it first.”
“But you actually did it, asshole.”
“Relax, fucktard, there’ll be plenty of alcohol at Duke Holland’s party.”
“I hope so, for the sake of your face.”
*****
The drive to Duke Holland’s party was surprisingly comfortable, even though you were pissed off at Bucky for making the alcoholic contents vanish so quickly. However, both of you were, strangely enough, excited for the party and chatted about all kinds of weird stuff. You discussed the dreams you’d had recently, as you usually did in the morning after just waking up, and argued about who generally had the best dreams.
When you arrived, the driver lowered the window and turned around to send an all-knowing smile to you. “Have fun, tonight, love-birds.”
“We’re not—” you started.
“Thank you, sir,” Bucky interrupted you, and climbed out of the vehicle, holding out his hand to help you out. When he saw you frown at him, willing to make a scene out of this, his flashing smile shut you up. “Start getting in character, darling,” he intoned, placing his metal arm around your waist. “We’re in public now. And you’re my girlfriend.”
You returned his blinding smile. “Right. Sorry, babe. Don’t worry, I’m afraid you’re underestimating what a fantastic actress I am.”
“Pretty sure I’m not underestimating you,” Bucky pointed out. “My expectations are incredibly high for tonight. I expect you to use all your charms.”
You laughed, leaning in closer to Bucky. Seductively, you placed your hand on his chest, taken aback by how small you looked compared to his massive pecks. You stood on your toes so that you could match Bucky’s height, bringing your lips so close to his that you could feel his hot breath. “Are you sure?” you whispered. “My charms might kill you.”
Just for a split second, you could swear Bucky looked nervous. Then, he huffed out a mocking breath that he might or might not have been holding. “Darling,” he gave your back a squeeze and pressed your body closer to him. “I think I can handle you.”
A giggle escaped your lips as you untangled yourself from his grip, holding on to his hand as you pulled him after you. “Ah, just don’t fall in love with me,” you teased him. He laughed and didn’t respond, tightening his grasp around your hand, as if he needed somewhat insurance that you wouldn’t just let go.
The two of you strolled side by side, making your way to the carpet that led through the entrance of Duke Holland’s home—home was a relative word, this building looked more like a castle in the middle of the city. The crowd grew as you approached the place, paparazzi turning and people screaming and pointing. Before you knew what was happening, cameras were aimed in your direction and flashed blinding lights into your eyes. You had to blink heavily, feeling your heart sink through the ground.
Bucky scowled at you, “Don’t squeeze my hand so hard!”
“But people are staring at us, Buck,” you squeaked.
“That’s because you’re crushing the hand of the Winter Soldier,” Bucky whispered annoyed. “Fucking hell, just smile and wave.”
You could feel the familiar bubbles in your chest as you started to get mad at Bucky. “But you’re not smiling and waving.”
“That’s not my thing,” he protested. “I just stand there and look at them like I can murder them.”
“But you can murder them.”
“Exactly. I have to stick to my imago.”
“Ah,” you finally understood. “So Tony wanted me to pretend to be your girlfriend because people would be more scared of you than that they would be interested in me. I get noticed less. I stay safe.”
Bucky nodded. “Yes. You stay safe.”
“Do we go inside?” you asked. “You promised there’d be alcohol. You know, since you drank it all. Man, I should just have gone with Sam. He would have done his best to get me drunk within two minutes.”
“You’re right, let’s get drunk,” Bucky agreed. “I have to admit, I usually just walk straight inside. I don’t even take time to let the paparazzi take pictures of me attending parties. Sends the wrong message.”
You squeezed his hand as hard as you could to clarify your anger, while you kept a holy smile plastered on your smile for the cameras. “Asshole, then why didn’t we just do that now?”
Bucky grinned, which was the first time he cracked a smile since you were on the carpet. “Because it was making you more uncomfortable than me.”
“Asshole,” you repeated.
“All right,” Bucky gestured you to follow him, and you strolled past the photographers that were begging you to stop and let them take a good picture of you. “At least now you have a picture of us together that you can hang over your bed.”
You scoffed. “Why? So that I can have nightmares?”
“No, sexy dreams.”
You let out a mocking laugh, feeling your jaw drop and your heartrate quicken. “No way. I might hang it up, but only to throw darts into your face.”
Bucky opened his mouth to clap back, but was interrupted by a tipsy Tony, who warmly spread his arms when he spotted the two of you together. “My favorite couple in the world!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers as a sign for the barman to get you a drink. “How’s it going? Enjoyed the private limo?”
You narrowed your eyes. Tony had so many double intentions it was hard for you to see what his original ones were. “Yeah, thanks, I guess.”
“No problem, no problem,” Tony was shaking his head. He positioned himself in between Bucky and you, clapping you both on the back. “Here, have a seat. Your drinks will be ready in a minute. Y/N, you look stunning. Now go get drunk and have fun!” He was beaming widely.
“What about the mission, Stark?” Bucky busted out. “Don’t you have to brief us about the location of the jewelry? I don’t even know what his bride looks like to protect her.”
Tony was waving his comments away. “No, no, I made all of that up,” he smirked, looking completely content with himself. “There won’t be a robbery. Not that I know of, anyway. I just made up this mission to get you to come to a party.” Bucky was flabbergasted, unable to respond. Tony then narrowed his eyes. “And the bride is the one in the white dress, dipshit.” Without saying another word, Tony wandered off, undoubtedly on his way to find Pepper, or to find a new drink.
Bucky angrily held quiet, while you were giggling unstoppably. Bucky moved to sit with his back toward you, accepted his cocktail from the bartender, and grumpily started sipping his drink. When you really wouldn’t stop laughing, he snapped at you: “Quit it, Y/N, it’s not funny.”
You shrugged. “It’s a little funny.”
“I don’t like people lying to me,” Bucky busted out, his metal arm whirring as anger got the better of him. “I don’t like being fooled. Lies aren’t good for anyone. I want people to be fucking honest. Stark is a lying, deceitful turd.”
You drank from your cocktail for a bit before you replied. “Take it easy, there, tiger,” you said. “He just wants you to have fun. And you’re here now, so you might just as well do it.” When Bucky didn’t react, you nudged him with your shoulder. “Come on. You told me that we’d get drunk. And you’re a man from your word, right?”
Bucky sighed deeply. “Right.” He caught the attention of the bartender. “Excuse me, can we have like eight shots of vodka, please?” The man nodded, though appearing slightly confused. You granted Bucky a broad smile. “Okay,” Bucky said when the shots were prepared. “Here’s to fun.” You clinked the glasses and threw the alcohol back, enjoying the feeling of it burning down your throat.
You coughed. “Yeah, here’s to fun.”
*****
Admittedly, everything was fun. As soon as Bucky let a little loose thanks to the alcohol, he talked more freely and was even willing to dance every now and then. You loyally stuck by his side, reminding yourself that you were still under instructions to pretend to be his girlfriend. However, after a while, you realized that the instructions didn’t even make a difference. Had you been there without them, you still would have chosen to hang out with Bucky.
There was mostly loud dance music booming from the speakers, enabling you and Bucky to absolutely dance your asses off. The man was a surprisingly good dancer, smooth in the hips. It led you to think certain things that you probably shouldn’t, and downed another shot.
Only once did a slow song get played, which you deeply suspected was Tony’s fault. You found the billionaire snickering on a speaker next to the dj’s booth, with a glass filled with strong booze dangling in his hand. Steve Rogers sat by his side, rolling his eyes, but looking amused.
A hot flush of embarrassment shot through your cheeks, but Bucky didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed one hand an placed the other politely on your back. When he saw you looking, taken aback by his confident hold on you, he shrugged a little. “Part of the service of me being your fake-boyfriend,” he explained, swinging you in his arms on the rhythm of the music. You wanted to say something sassy, but reluctantly loved the feeling of being in his arms, and all you produced was a little noise. Bucky’s eyebrows shot up, “You’re not falling in love with me, are you?” But he quickly let it go, swinging you into a pirouette.
Overall, everything was going great, but then, in one second, that all changed. You made the mistake of looking over Bucky’s shoulder.
When you saw him, your heart dropped. Viciously—as if it got trampled and torn into a thousand pieces. A wide range of panic shot through you as you recognized your ex-boyfriend, standing not too far away from you. You did not want to see him; a year ago, after a two-year relationship, he’d cheated on you and broken your heart. Even though you surely had gotten over him, seeing him reminded you of the pain you had felt.
Bucky immediately noticed the disturbance in your posture, and stirred beside you. Rapidly, his eyes scanned the environment to find what was bothering you. His breath hitched a little when he figured it out. “That’s Mike, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
Bucky glanced over at you and saw your hurt expression. Softly, he growled, “Want me to rough him up for you?”
You made a face, not necessarily against that idea. “Nah,” you then shook your head. “I already kicked him in the balls when I found out he had cheated on me.”
Bucky clasped his jaws together. “Well, he’s an idiot, that’s for sure.”
All of a sudden, Mike turned, and his eyes fell on you. “Oh, shit, he saw us,” you panicked, “He definitely saw us. He’s coming over. Fuck, Bucky, he’s coming over. What do we do? What the fuck do we do?”
“Fucking calm down, you shit,” Bucky hissed at you. You didn’t know what to do or where to go or what to say or how to smile or stand or talk—you really just didn’t want to see him. Suddenly, Bucky grabbed your face with both hands. His metal and flesh hand cupped your cheeks as an intense look came over him, his blue eyes shining recklessly as he abruptly moved in closer.
Story: Bucky Barnes doesn’t like you, and you don’t like him either. Your hateful relationship gets tested when you have to go on a mission with the Avengers together.
Warnings: swearing!
A/N: this is the second part even though i posted the first part very recently. doesn’t matter. also i don’t know how to use links and stuff, but i’ll make it work eventually. enjoyy!!
PART ONE
Admittedly, it was the middle of the night. And you were acting like an asshole.
But nothing could stop you from turning up the volume of your speakers and blasting the music as loud as you could, dancing through your room at full speed and power, dancing like no one was watching. You leaped in and out of bed and joyfully waved your blankets around your shoulders, pretending to be a superhero. Dancing and singing along to the lyrics of the ear-deafening music, you had a great time.
Bucky came busting into your room, black strokes of hair wildly flying before his eyes. He shot over to the speakers and turned down the volume. “You fucking fucker,” he cursed loudly. “You know that we share a wall. Thin walls, Y/N! Stop blasting your fucking music in the goddamn middle of the night.”
“Fuck you,” you jumped up from your bed, not giving a shit about the fact that you were wearing nothing but a simple shirt that only just covered your bottom. “I’ll listen to music when I fucking want to listen to music. It’s none of your fucking business.”
“It is my fucking business when I have to get up early in the morning to do an actual fucking job, and I want to go to sleep,” he spat out furiously. His metal arm whirred and readjusted itself in agitation as Bucky tensed his muscles, obviously ready to punch you in the face if he had to.
“Oh, my god,” you balled your fists yourself. “An actual fucking job? You’re just going for a run because you’re a pussy—it’s not as if your superhuman strength will fucking disappear if you sleep in for a change!”
“Y/N,” Bucky suddenly said quietly, an eerie undertone of threats. “I will murder you if you don’t let me sleep. Right now.”
One of your eyebrows arched up. “Threats, Bucky? Really?”
“You know I get mad when I don’t get sleep.”
“What are you going to do?” you demanded, higher-pitched than usual. “Hit me?”
Bucky’s tensed muscles instantly relaxed after hearing your words. He calmed down, his shoulders slumped, his posture no longer violent or aggressive. “Come on, doll,” he murmured tiredly, “I’d never hurt you.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and sighed. “Please just let me sleep.”
You stared at him weirdly. You really couldn’t place the momentary minutes of affection that Bucky had started sharing with you lately—he had started having nice moments; you didn’t know how to deal with it. “Okay, I’ll let you sleep.”
Bucky looked relieved. “Thank you.” Only then did it seem to occur to him that you were barely clothed; nothing but a thin layer of fabric covering you up. His eyes scanned your shape only briefly, before he cleared his throat and turned away. “Good night, doll.”
“How was your night?” you asked with a yawn.
Bucky shot you a dark look as he let his hands go through his hair, which was still unwashed and uncombed. “Short, Y/N,” he complained. “Fucking short. Worst night of my life.”
You shook your head. “Can’t believe that you are supposed to be tougher than me. You can’t even deal with not going to bed at nine one night.”
“You were in my dream last night,” Bucky grumbled as both of you tiredly strolled through the hallways that morning. “I was a train conductor and I ran you over, several times. You refused to just die. You’d think it was a nightmare, but frankly, it was quite a pleasing experience.”
“I had a dream about you, too,” you countered, while aggressively punching Bucky against his shoulder in response to his story. “I was a wizard, like in Harry Potter, and I learned how to transform other people into animals. For example, I transformed Steve into an eagle, because of freedom and stuff.”
“Right,” Bucky nodded. “And me?”
“Into a rat.”
Bucky busted out in laughter. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
His laugh was a strangely enjoyable sound, infectious, almost, as you sensed a smile playing along the sides of your lips as well.
You made your way to the briefing room side by side, walking in almost comfortable silence—as if you’d somewhat grown used to the other’s annoying company. You entered the briefing room on the third floor and sat down in the chairs at the back of the room; all the other members of the team were already present.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tony announced loudly, stepping atop a stool to get everyone’s attention as soon as he recognized everyone had arrived in the briefing room. “We have a mission! We have all been invited to the Duke Holland’s wedding—he is less rich than me, but he’s still a millionaire. There have been hints from our eyes and ears that there will be a robbery, its target the bride’s jewelry. I hope you’re all excited as I am, because the summary is that we get to go to this fantastic party and protect the bride’s pearls.”
Bucky crossed his arms over his chest in protest. “I’m not going to a party, Stark.”
Tony enthusiastically pointed at Bucky and winked at him. “Knew you’d say that, but you don’t have a choice. Nat, you can give me that five bucks later.” Natasha exaggeratedly rolled her eyes, regretting that Tony had to tell everyone she had lost a bet. “Anyway, the people already know me so I will be going as myself. So will most of us. But they don’t know you yet—” he gestured at you, “—so you will be accompanying Bucky as his date.”
“What?” Bucky sputtered indignantly. “We can’t go as a couple. Come on, Stark.” He looked at you as if he suspected you’d agree with him in his anger, but for some stupid reason, you found yourself at a strange loss of words. Bucky jerked his gaze back to Tony. “Can’t she go with Steve, or something?”
Steve calmly leaned back in his chair, his eyes shooting from you to Bucky and back to you. “If I arrive with a girl, the girl will be a big deal. If you arrive with a girl, the focus will still be on you.” Bucky stared at his best friend with a glare that would have been lethal, hadn’t Steve gotten used to it. “Yes, I am saying that it will be harder for her to pretend to be Captain America’s girlfriend.”
Bucky opened his mouth to protest to that, but Sam was faster. “I’ll do it, guys,” he offered, as if he was sacrificing himself. He winked over at you. “Listen, Y/N, I know there’s always been this connection between the two of us, and I’d love to go on a date with you, even if it’s fake. I promise you I can make it the best night of your life; I will rock your—”
“Fine,” Bucky interrupted Sam, shooting a furious look in Sam’s direction, who fell back in his chair in satisfaction, clearly happy to have succeeded to trigger Bucky. Bucky sighed. “I’ll do it. I’ll go on a date with Y/N.”
“Great!” Tony exclaimed. “Everyone be ready at seven, okay? That’s when the limo leaves.” He looked through the room to see if there were any questions, and frowned a little when he noticed your expression. “Dismissed.”
You were the first one to stand up from your chair, while the rest of the team stayed behind to chat a little. There was no part of you that felt motivated to make small-talk after all this, thus you abandoned the briefing room quickly. You stormed out of there, hearing the heavy door fall shut with a loud bang. Several seconds later, you heard footsteps following you. Convinced that it was Tony, you quickened your step, hoping to make it to the elevator before getting trapped in a speech—when suddenly metal fingers wrapped themselves around your arm and held you back.
Bucky had followed you?
“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, just as confused as you were. “Why are you running out of the briefing room? You always stay for a bit to talk. What’s up?”
“Jesus, Bucky,” you cursed, “What’s up is that, apparently, you’d really hate to spend some actual time with me. But that’s fucking okay. I’ll get over it.” You yanked yourself loose from his grip and hoped to get out of there, but Bucky kept coming after you.
“Hey—fuck, Y/N, will you stand still?” he asked in frustration. “I’m sorry, did I offend you or something? Let me ask you this, do you want to go on a fucking date with me?”
“No.”
“Then what the fuck is the problem?” Bucky busted out. “I thought you’d be happier going on a date with someone else, like Steve.”
“But not Sam?”
“Fuck no, not Sam,” Bucky spat. “Sam’s an idiot.”
“Whatever,” you murmured angrily. “We’ll just go on this fake date and the night will be over before we know it. I’ll go to the toilet every ten minutes so we don’t have to be in each other’s company for too long. Deal?”
Bucky opened his mouth and closed it again. He frowned, seeming confused. “No, Y/N, no,” he then said decisively. “This is a mission and we should take it seriously. We’re going on this fake date and we’re going to mean it. Okay? It’s going to be a real date. I’m in if you’re in.”
You didn’t mean to say it but you couldn’t hold yourself back. “Okay. Okay, I’m in.”
Hey cuties, this is a list of all the parts for the Doesn’t Like You series! Hope this makes it easier to navigate through the story. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
Story: Bucky Barnes doesn’t like you, and you don’t like him either. Your hateful relationship gets tested when you have to go on a mission with the Avengers together.
Can I be tagged in “he doesn’t like you”? It was a great read!
Thank you so much and absolutely!! I just wanted to let everyone know who asks for a tag that you will surely be added!
(I just kind of feel like replying to everyone individually will end up spamming you guys, but you are very much loved and appreciated, literally without all of you I never would have been able to keep writing so THANKS
