Clueless
Summary: Movie AU. Inspired by Clueless - A high society boy and a do-gooder-type girl find love.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 8,328 (*Cher voice* WHATEVER)
Warnings: language, fluff, mentions of aggressive behavior, a (non-armed) robbery, drinking, oh, and mean people really freaking suck
A/N: I was going to post this in parts, but the deadline is fast approaching. This is for @sgtbxckybxrnes’s “Tay’s AU Movie Writing Challenge.” Sorry if you’re disappointed, I never follow the movie plots exactly. Clueless was a lot harder to write than I thought!
As the driver pulled the car over to the curb, he turned to look at you with a smile. “We’ve arrived at the Barnes residence, Miss.”
You glanced out of the darkened window at the swanky New York apartment building. Inside, countless apartments filled with super rich people were living their super rich lives, basically ignoring everyone else’s problems in the world.
The mere idea made you uncomfortable and more than a little cranky.
There was nothing wrong with the Upper East Side. In fact, it was home to a lot of beautiful landmarks, and a lot of history.
But it was also home to someone you found to be more annoying than a common housefly: James Buchanan Barnes. Most people who knew him personally called him Bucky. Even his nickname annoyed you.
To be fair, you weren’t from the Upper West Side. No, you lived in a cozy apartment in Brooklyn with your mom, one you downgraded to after your father passed away. It was your father who knew Bucky’s father; they had grown up together and were practically brothers. That meant that you were supposed to treat Bucky like family.
As if!
“Thank you very much!” You opened the door and carefully stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“You’re quite welcome.”
A chill ran down your spine. That wasn’t the driver’s voice.
You turned around and glared as the man himself appeared out of nowhere, a ridiculous smirk on his face as he put his hands in his overpriced pants pockets.
It was easy to see why all these rich girls (and a lot of not-so-rich girls, too) threw themselves at Bucky. He was classically handsome: perfect brown hair, deep blue-grey eyes, and a jawline that looked so chiseled he would fit right in at the Guggenheim.
The only problem was, he knew how rich and how handsome he was, and he flaunted it.
“I wasn’t thanking you,” you muttered, moving past him as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “And I’m not even here to see you. I’m here because-“
“Because my dad asked you to come to dinner, I know.” He smirked, falling into step beside you. “But this time it’s not on Sunday, it’s on a Friday. Why do you think that is?”
A doorman opened the door for you both, nodding a greeting as you made your way into the lobby.
“I don’t know, Bucky. I haven’t seen him since spring break, and I’m kind of ditching my finals study group for this, so I hope-“
“It’s for me,” he interrupted again, grinning at you like a Cheshire cat. “I made Dean’s List at Columbia again.”
“Who’d you bribe this time?” you asked, rolling your eyes as a woman in the lobby blew him a kiss. “Because I’ve seen your Instagram, Buck, and you definitely haven’t been studying.”
He’d actually been spending most of his time making all his followers (except you, of course) swoon with videos from the gym that his personal trainer, Don, took every session.
The two of you moved to the elevator, where Bucky pushed the button for his floor.
“I’ll have you know, I did a lot of extra credit this semester. I’ve been tagging along with my dad for some internship credits, too.”
“Makes sense now. Why would you go out and find your own job when you could have your daddy coddle you?”
Bucky frowned for the first time since he met you at the sidewalk. “I’m holding my own.”
“Sure. If you ever did anything that wasn’t for selfish reasons I’d die of shock.”
“That’d be reason enough for me.”
Thankfully, the door opened, and you walked into the foyer, careful to avoid anything that looked like it might cost an entire year’s tuition at NYU.
This apartment was immaculate, with classic architecture and a white and platinum theme (Bucky’s mom Winnie, an interior designer, hated gold…said it was so over), and countless ornamental additions. The chandeliers alone were worth more than your life…times three.
“There she is!”
George Barnes came around the corner looking gruff as ever, but you knew better. Even as an intimidating litigator, George and his wife were always kind to you.
“Hi, George,” you greeted him with a smile, trying not to wince as he offered you a quick hug and a back-slap. “Thank you for having me over.”
“I haven’t seen you since April, Y/N, you’re taller than I remember. Bucky, doesn’t she look taller?”
Bucky’s eyes dragged over your form once. “I don’t know, Dad. Altogether, I’d say she’s maybe a Brooklyn seven or something.”
George waved a hand at him, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him. You’re smart and lovely. You’ve grown up to be everything your dad would have wanted.”
“Yes, Y/N, you’re the pride of New York. Tell me again what major you were aiming for?” Bucky gave you an evil look, knowing fully that his father would never approve.
You looked at George. “I was thinking about maybe declaring for social work.”
He came to a full stop, blinking at you in confusion. “Why? Do you want to have a miserable, frustrating life?”
“Oh, that will happen either way, Dad,” Bucky chimed in, looking pleased with himself.
George’s dark eyes slid to his son’s face. “And at least she has direction, James.”
“Hey, I have direction,” he protested.
“Yeah, toward every gold digger in Manhattan,” you muttered under your breath.
“He changes his mind daily, don’t listen to him.” George shook his head at you, motioning for you to follow once more. “Come on, let’s eat already. I have a meeting soon.”
You turned and stuck your tongue out at Bucky before moving to follow George. You knew it wasn’t very mature, but he could be a little nicer.
Anyways, you sure as hell weren’t there to celebrate him.
Dinner went well, except for the fact that Winnie was apparently off at some kind of social event, so you didn’t even get to see her. George and Bucky kept answering their cell phones, George because of work, and Bucky because of his latest flavor of the week.
What an unlucky, desperate lady she must be.
You excused yourself not long after they began their marathon phone calls, insisting that you had to get back to your dorm, so George had his driver come back for you. Without even saying goodbye to Bucky, you made your way back to NYU’s campus and back to the sanctuary of the dorm room you shared with absolutely no one.
Your original roommate had dropped out her first week, citing her anxiety in a big city like New York as being too overwhelming for her to pass any classes. She was originally from somewhere out west, and she told you things were slower, calmer there.
Whatever. That sounded like an excuse to you.
You were due to get a new roommate soon, but in the meantime, you enjoyed the solitude. The room was modest but comfortable, and you loved the entire campus.
So what if it wasn’t Columbia? Who cared, really, anyways? No one gave a crap where you went to school if you didn’t have the right last name or a sizeable bank account. You were going to have to prove yourself in the workforce either way once you graduated.
Not everyone had it as easy as Bucky, after all.
NYU was also home to your best friend in the whole world, Sam Wilson. Sam was incredibly popular on campus, but he never let it go to his head. He and his girlfriend were relationship goals, and you always found yourself envious of how in love they were, of how much they respected each other.
Between Sam, his friend Steve Rogers, and one of their frat buddies Brock Rumlow, you always seemed to be dragged to this sports bar or the next. Every time you tried to take homework or a book with you, Sam would roll his eyes and tell you to have fun.
You knew how to have fun. It wasn’t like you were sitting back alone at the dorm, right?
Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Sam was texting you, right on time.
There’s someone in your room.
Very funny. I’m almost there.
No, I’m here too, but I mean someone who isn’t me. It’s a new girl.
That meant that your new roommate had arrived sooner than expected.
“Damn.” You pressed dial and didn’t even wait for Sam to reply once he answered. “What’s she like?”
“Uh, she’s got long red hair, heavy makeup, and a thick accent. Says her name is Wanda.”
“I’m almost there. Keep her entertained. Don’t leave me.”
“She seems nice,” he informed. “Give her a chance.”
“I wasn’t planning on shunning her, Sam. Anyways, I’m in the elevator. See you soon.”
Sam was right. Wanda had a thick Eastern European accent, since that was where she was originally from. She came to NYU for school after her parents moved her to the US. She also wore a long jacket and lots of layers, even though it was unseasonably warm in New York.
After you and Sam helped her unpack, Sam told you both about a party happening off campus.
“It’s at Brock’s apartment.”
“I don’t know,” you mused, looking over at Wanda. “Is that how you want to spend your first Friday night in the city? At some crappy apartment party?”
“It might be fun,” Wanda answered, shrugging a little. “I would like to get to know people.”
Sam stood, clapping his hands together. “Good. Let me call Steve and we’ll go.”
The idea of a party there made you feel a little uneasy. It wasn’t that Brock hung out with a bad crowd, but he definitely wasn’t the type of person you’d actively seek out for friendship. Then again, you trusted Sam and Steve.
You sighed. “Fine, let’s go. And Wanda, you’re gonna want to change…”
The party was pretty typical for a jock to throw. There were keg stands in one corner, beer pong in the other…and some terrible dancing to terrible music in between.
As soon as you got there, you grabbed Wanda and went to the makeshift bar to pour your own drinks.
“Can’t be too careful,” you warned her as you handed her a red cup filled with rum and coke.
“Careful about what?”
“What you drink here. It hasn’t happened to me before, but I never take a drink that wasn’t made right in front of me. It’s just safer, in case someone slips something into the cup.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened in realization as she glanced down at the drink. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s see who we know here and mingle before we find a good spot.”
“That’s not easy, I only know who we came to the party with. Oh, and that guy.”
She pointed to a tall dude in the corner, who happened to be wearing guyliner and lots of magenta.
You scrunched your nose a little, trying to place the face. “Him?”
“Yes, he is in my Intro to Psychology class. His name is Vision. He asked me out this morning but I told him I wasn’t ready to date yet.”
“Vision? What a name,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know about that guy, Wanda. Why don’t you try one of Sam’s friends first? How about…”
You pondered it over. Steve was already seeing an upperclassman named Peggy. Their friend Tony was already seeing your friend Pepper, thanks to some really well-timed matchmaking on your part.
That really only left Brock. Oh, completely hopelessly single Brock. You looked over at him as he chugged a beer and then burped loudly, throwing his arms in the air in some unknown victory.
Would you really do that to Wanda?
Brock had connections. He could get her into any society she wanted at NYU, and his parents could probably get her any job she wanted in any field, that’s how well-known and influential they were.
She could at least use him as a starting off point, if nothing else. That settled it.
“Wanda,” you said loudly over the music. “Come on, let me introduce you to Brock. I think you’ll like him.”
About an hour later, Wanda was still sitting beside Brock and drunkenly giggling at most everything he said. You were on the other side of her in the middle of the long couch, still sipping your drink and trying to avoid eye contact with any of the guys from Brock’s frat house. Steve sat beside you, then Sam on his left.
“Hey Y/N,” Brock called out, leaning across Wanda’s lap. “Let’s play a drinking game?”
“I’m not drunk enough for that,” you told him, nodding at Wanda. “But she might play?”
“Actually, it’s probably better if the party’s over. It looks like some of the guys are passing out,” Steve commented, shaking his head. “I’m going to go see if anyone needs to crash somewhere.”
Brock and Sam stood up and followed him wordlessly.
The second they left, Wanda turned to you and grinned, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “He is very cute.”
“He’s all right if he doesn’t open his mouth,” you shrugged, looking away. “We should probably head out, anyways. Do you think you can walk home?”
“Yes.” Wanda stood up and wobbled a bit, nearly falling over until Steve caught her and held her up.
“How about we get you back to my girlfriend Peggy’s at least? You can crash there until morning. Her apartment isn’t far.” Steve looked at you. “Will you be okay getting home?”
You were about to open your mouth when Brock rejoined the group. “I’ll walk her back,” he offered, slinging an arm over your shoulders.
Your eyes slid to Steve’s in protest, but he didn’t seem pick up on your discomfort. “I…um…”
“Fair enough. Y/N, I’ll tell Sam you left. He was helping some of the drunks home.”
“O-okay,” you said meekly, turning to grab your bag. “See you tomorrow, Wanda.”
The walk home with Brock was just as ridiculous as you expected. He was always trying to put his arm around you, no matter how many times you moved away from him. There was only so much space on the sidewalk.
“I knew it,” he said when you were about halfway home.
You weren’t sure what he was on about; no one had said anything in at least a block. There were still several blocks to go, and you couldn’t wait to climb into your bed – alone. Your feet hurt, and the one drink you’d had was giving you a headache already.
“Knew what?”
“Knew that you wanted me.” Brock moved closer, his arm sliding down to your waist.
Your eyes widened and you pulled away. “Stop it, Brock! I don’t want you. You’re super drunk and imagining things.”
“Is that so?” He stopped and grabbed your wrists, holding you in place, his dark eyes wild and glassy from his many drinks. “Is that why you agreed to be alone with me? I knew you were flirting with me all night, so I figured this would be our chance to-“
“I was so not flirting with you all night! As if,” you said angrily, trying to free your wrists from his grasp. “Leave me alone!”
“Fine!” Brock threw your arms down, his laugh booming around the sidewalk as passersby glanced but hurried on their way. He was a big dude, and you seriously doubted someone would come to your rescue.
“Fine,” you repeated, turning on your heels to leave him in the dust.
“Where you going, princess? Gonna walk the scary streets of New York by yourself at night?”
“Yes!” You kept marching forward, tugging your bag a little closer to you.
“Good luck,” he called out behind you.
You didn’t bother to look back, but realized after one block you weren’t exactly sure which way you were going. You were just about to pull your phone out of your pocket to call a Juno when you heard footsteps behind you.
“Give me your bag,” a voice snarled. “And I won’t hurt you.”
All that was in the bag was some makeup and about ten bucks. Your dorm ID was in your pocket with your phone.
“Here, take it and please go.” You held the bag out to the guy, whose face you couldn’t even see, and he grabbed it and ran the other direction down an alley.
There was no one around to help you as you shook so hard you had to sit on the curb. You did the only thing you could think, called the one person who had the resources to come help you.
With your hands still shaking, you found his contact and pushed call.
“What do you want, Y/N? I’m on a date with this super hot chick from-“
“Bucky,” you interrupted frantically, not caring about whatever he was saying. “I was at a party, and I was walking home and the guy that was walking with me tried to grab me, and I-“
“Whoa, slow down, where are you? Who tried to grab you?”
“Can you just come get me? My roommate is staying in Midtown tonight, and I’m sitting here on the curb and this guy robbed me and took my bag, and-“
“The same guy? What the hell, Y/N?”
“No, a different guy.” You hated that your voice was tearing up. “Please just come get me? Or have your driver get me?”
“Where are you?”
You told him the name of the street, and the name of the store that you currently had your back to.
“I’ll be there in two minutes. Don’t move.”
Bucky’s car arrived right at the two minute mark, just like he promised. Before the car even stopped, Bucky jumped out and hurried over to you as you stood.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, eyes trailing over your face and arms. He reached for your hands, eyes darkening as the both of you realized that two ugly bruises now circled your wrists.
“I’m fine, Bucky, I just want to go back to my room,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I have to be up early to volunteer at the kid’s theater, I shouldn’t have even gone out…”
“You aren’t going back to campus yet,” he said sternly, shaking his head. “Not if your roommate isn’t going to be there. Come on.”
Bucky placed a hand at the small of your back, gently leading you to the car. Bucky climbed in first, and it wasn’t until he stopped in the middle of the seat that you realized his date for the night was on the other side of him.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your date,” you said softly, shutting the door and trying to make yourself as seem as small as possible.
“It’s fine,” Bucky said, patting your hand gently. “Natasha and I were just driving around anyways.”
“That’s not true.” Her deep voice cut through the darkness and made you cringe. “We were on our way to see a showing of Hamilton.”
“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I can pay for the missed tickets.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky chided with a small smile. “It’s no big deal, I’ll just get new ones. We can go another night.”
“Are you sure?” He was right, of course. He would just buy new ones like it was nothing, even though to you they would be a small fortune.
His eyes softened. “Yes, I’m sure. Don’t worry about it, you’ve got other stuff to worry about.”
“To thine own self be true, after all, right? Hamlet said that, by the way,” Natasha said coolly, turning to look out the window. You could tell she meant to be snide about it, but you weren’t about to keep your mouth shut to help her.
“Actually, Hamlet didn’t say that.”
You glanced over at Bucky, watching as he tried to bite back a chuckle. You knew he liked the play as much as you did, but he had bigger stakes in keeping quiet.
“Um, I think as a theatre major I know Shakespeare better than you.” Natasha gave you a condescending smile.
Oh, so that’s how this girl was going to be. Two could play this game.
“Well, I know Oscar Isaac better than you, and Hamlet didn’t say that. That Polonius guy did.”
Now Bucky didn’t bother to hide his grin as he stared straight ahead.
Natasha gave him a dirty look and turned back to the window. You knew he was in trouble now for laughing at her, but as the car dropped her off at Juilliard, you were glad to be rid of her for the night.
You watched from afar as he followed her down the path, until she turned around and accepted an embrace from him.
Blech.
When he came back inside the car, you made a face. “Sorry about that.”
Bucky offered you a reassuring look. “Don’t even worry about it. You’ve had a rough evening, let’s just go relax.”
A comfortable silence filled the car for the next block until the driver pulled to the curb again.
“Hey, Y/N?” Bucky turned to look at you with tired eyes. “Just make sure that you stay away from this Brock douche, okay?”
“Trust me,” you said, reaching for the door handle. “I have no desire to see that guy’s face ever again.”
The night was chilly, so you were glad to be somewhere comfortable. Bucky waited for you, then the two of you made your way inside.
What a difference a day makes. You felt nothing but grateful for the person beside you, a guy you’d known since you first could walk and talk.
“Thank you again, Bucky,” you said quietly, shuffling into the elevator.
“It’s good to have a brother type nearby, I guess,” he joked, pressing the button as he moved to stand beside you.
You both stared at the digital number as it increased for each floor. “You are not like a brother to me, Bucky, not even remotely. More like an annoying neighbor.”
“You live nowhere near me, though?”
“It’s the same feeling of familiarity.”
“Ah. Got it.”
You gave him a sideways glance. “You don’t think of yourself that way, do you?”
“What, as a brother?” He rubbed his neck. “No.”
Whatever words you were about to say died on your lips as the doors opened and his family’s penthouse came into view.
He gave you another smile before nodding his head toward the other room. “I’ll let the maid know to make up a room for you.”
“Thank you, Bucky. I really appreciate this.” You returned his smile.
“Anytime, Y/N.” With another nod, he turned and wandered away. Whatever else the two of you had to discuss would have to wait until morning.
Bucky became super overprotective almost immediately. He walked you to your volunteer group the next morning, even though it was all the way in Midtown.
You had decided early on to spend whatever time you had left on the weekends working with a children’s theater troupe. You helped them with makeup and costumes, and sometimes filled in for rehearsals when the professionals who ran the group were strapped for time.
The kids were all super cute and really grateful. Most of them went to inner city schools with depleted arts programs, and the looks on their faces when they got to perform made every single hour of your time so worth it.
“I get wanting to help kids, but why did you pick theater?” Bucky asked as he glanced around the room.
The space had been donated on the weekends by a couple as affluent as Bucky’s parents, so it met his approval right away, at least aesthetically.
“I mean, it’s New York. What better place? These kids need creativity, they need a way to express themselves. Not all of them will continue with acting or singing or whatever, but at least it gives them a chance, you know? It’s a chance to do something other than mope around or watch television.”
“You mean like you did growing up?” He looked at you, the corner of his mouth lifting a little.
You glanced away. “Whatever. I have to get started. Thank you again, Bucky.”
“Sure. Do you need anything else?”
“Do you think you could swing by my dorm and check on Wanda, make sure she made it home okay?”
“I can do that,” he nodded, putting his hands in his pockets again.
A little kid came up to him and put her hands on her hips. “Are you in costume?”
Bucky made a face at you before looking back at the little girl. “No. This is a very expensive designer suit.”
“It looks like a costume,” she insisted, taking a step closer to him. “It’s shiny.”
“It’s just a suit.”
“Says who?”
“Hugo Boss.”
“I don’t know him,” she replied very seriously. “Do you think he would help Y/N make costumes?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Bucky’s expression before intervening. “Kayleigh, Bucky here has to be on his way. Neither he nor Hugo can help with costumes, okay? They’d put me out of a job.”
“Oh. Okay, Miss Y/N!”
With one last wave to Bucky, you followed Lucy to get started for the day.
The kids were wild all the way into late afternoon, and all you wanted to do was eat, take a hot shower, and go to bed. Some fun Saturday night you were going to have!
What you weren’t expecting was to see Bucky at your dorm still in the early evening hours, playing a card game with Wanda. There was a pizza box open on her bed, and the two of them were sitting on the floor playing what appeared to be go fish.
They both looked up at you in surprise.
“Hey, you’re back,” Bucky said, sitting up with cards still clutched in his hand. “I was keeping Wanda company.”
“I can see that,” you said, your voice a little more harsh than you intended. You tore your eyes away from them and set your stuff down on your desk chair. He had obviously been there for a while. “Having fun?”
“Bucky is the best, why did he not go to the party with us?” Wanda asked, grinning at him.
You shrugged, looking toward your closet to grab your robe and a change of clothes. “Bucky’s not an NYU kind of guy.”
“That’s not true, I’m flexible,” he flirted, grinning at Wanda.
She giggled again. “I think I would like to see what Columbia is like some time.”
It took all your strength not to roll your eyes. You had to give her the benefit of the doubt, since she was so new, and Bucky was really charming.
Wait, what?
You shook it off, moving to go toward the bathroom. “I’m going to shower.”
“Don’t you want some pizza, first? There’s a lot leftover,” Bucky offered.
He was even slumming it with pizza? What the hell was this? Did Bucky like Wanda now? Was she his new conquest?
“No thank you. I’m not hungry.” You moved further away, avoiding eye contact with either of them.
“You haven’t eaten today, though. Have some pizza.”
“No thank you, Bucky. I appreciate you checking on Wanda for me,” you added, more for your own benefit, though Wanda didn’t seem to catch on at all. She was still making heart eyes at Bucky. “But I’m just going to shower and go to bed. You two can… do whatever.”
Without another glance, you marched into the bathroom and locked the door behind you.
You spent extra time drying your hair before you finally emerged from the bathroom in a pair of old yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. Bucky was nowhere to be found and neither was Wanda, but the pizza was still sitting there, so you reached in and ate a slice.
So maybe you were hungry. Whatever.
Did Bucky like Wanda? And did Wanda suddenly like Bucky? Not that you wanted her to like Brock anymore, god no, he was a shit human being…but still…Bucky?
What happened to that Vision guy? What happened to Natasha?
The pizza tasted awful, and you dumped the rest of the slice into the garbage. The thought of Wanda and Bucky was making you sick, and you felt like you needed some fresh air, so you grabbed your keycard and made your way to the roof where some of you had placed lawn chairs for moments like this.
As you stared up into the cloudy sky, you went over everything in your head. The last crush you’d had, a music major named Lucas, turned out to be interested in men. After that, you’d sort of given up on finding someone on campus. Your best bet was the millions of other people in this city.
You had so many options.
Wanda had so many options, so why did she need to pick Bucky?
You could still picture them in your head, sitting on the floor of your dorm room smiling and flirting. Blech.
Bucky was a nice guy. He deserved someone better than Wanda…someone to make fun of him and keep him grounded. He deserved someone to make sure he used his money and influence for good and not evil. He deserved someone who would be good to him and love him.
Someone like…
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. How could this be?
You loved Bucky.
You were completely, utterly, totally in love with James Buchanan Barnes.
When the hell had that happened?
The frown on your face deepened as you tried to reason it out.
He’d just always been there. You never really thought that any of the girls he dated were good enough for him, come to think of it, but they never lasted long enough to pose any sort of problem or get in the way of your relationship with Bucky.
So why did the idea of Wanda wanting him after such a short time make your stomach churn?
This would never do. How would you act around them now, especially if they started seeing each other? He always did have a thing for accents.
This just wouldn’t work. You needed a way out of this situation, fast.
You stood up with a new determination, though utterly unsure of how you were going to act around him now.
It was time to figure out what you truly wanted.
Another week went by with little to no explanation from Wanda for where she and Bucky had gone that night. In fact, nothing much happened except going to class and studying.
She did, however, show you a beer bottle cap she’d taken from Brock’s party that reminded her of him. She had kept it that night after he’d opened another drink for her, thinking that he was showing interest, but now she was throwing it away to prove she was over it.
You felt guilty because you had suggested him, not realizing what a douche he was. Even Sam and Steve had backed off of being his friend after you told them what happened.
Of course, now that Wanda was known around campus after hanging out with you and Sam, she became more popular (though mostly because Sam was popular). Everyone wanted to be friends with the mysterious Eastern European beauty who was last seen with the rich and elusive Bucky Barnes.
Wanda approached you that Saturday, right before your next rehearsal with the volunteer group, to tell you she was so over Brock, and wanted to go see Vision’s music gig that night in Brooklyn. Since you were from there, she figured you would be willing to go with her.
All the contemplation, all the anxiety you’d put yourself through since catching Bucky in your dorm room hanging out with Wanda…it was all for nothing.
Relief flooded you at the thought of her being interested in her first campus crush. Of course, not because she wasn’t actually into Bucky. No, you just genuinely wanted her to be happy.
And if it was with someone who wasn’t Bucky, then great.
That was just great.
“I’d love to go,” you told her sincerely. “I heard he’s really talented.”
The grin she gave you in return set your mind at ease even more. Wanda was totally head over heels for this Vision guy.
Where did that leave you and Bucky, though? Was there even a ‘you and Bucky?’
You shook off the thought, since you hadn’t heard from Bucky in a week either. Your new plan to confront your feelings and ask him how he felt fizzled out as soon as you left the roof last Saturday night.
It was fine, whatever. You had to focus, anyways.
Finals were fast approaching. You had studying and volunteering to worry about. The kids were counting on you to help with their play that one of older kids, a talented boy named Peter from Queens, had written himself.
It was the story of a regular guy and girl, who just so happened to be secret superheroes who fought bad guys side by side. It was really creative, and the kids were having so much fun. You couldn’t wait for opening night.
As you arrived to the venue, you were met with the worried faces of two of the other adult volunteers.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, setting your bag down on the closest chair.
Clint, the leader of the charity, shook his head. “We’ve run out of funding, Y/N. The group has to decide between our theater trip and keeping this production on.”
The theater trip had been your suggestion. You wanted them to see a real live Broadway play, and then maybe use any leftover funds to visit art museums or the opera. Now, all of that was going down the drain.
“You can’t cancel either of them! They’re counting on us,” you protested, feeling your stomach drop. These kids didn’t deserve this at all. “They’re looking forward to both.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. You could tell he was torn up about it, too. “We just can’t afford both.”
“Well, you’re still doing the play, though, right?”
Clint nodded. “They’re too far in to cancel now. Opening night is next week.”
Thank goodness for that.
“So what if I found a way to raise some money? We could hold a bake sale or something? I could go around campus to the theatre department and see if they’d be willing to dona-“
“We tried calling our donor sheets, Y/N. It’s too late. It’s not going to work out for this year. In fact, we’re lucky we aren’t shutting us down completely. We can start fundraising for next year, though.”
You nodded, looking away to the stage where kids were milling about, waiting for the group leaders to begin final rehearsals. Tears stung your eyes and you willed yourself to not get emotional in front of them.
Life just wasn’t fair, was it? There were so many people out there who had more money and opportunities than any person could need in a lifetime, and these kids couldn’t even have the arts in their lives without some sacrifices.
You straightened your posture and blinked the tears from your eyes before making your way over to the stage.
The leaders decided not to tell the kids about the change of plans. They didn’t want them to be upset before the big show next Saturday, and you sort of saw their point.
Unhappy actors would make for an unhappy show, and Peter and the kids all deserved to show off their hard work to the best of their abilities.
You trudged back to your dorm, ignoring calls from Sam and Steve along the way. Wanda also tried to text you a couple times, but you read them without replying.
Tonight was Vision’s show in Brooklyn, and you really weren’t up for going, but you weren’t about to break your word to your roommate.
By the time you got to your dorm to change, you realized that everyone had gathered there to wait for your arrival.
“Why do you look like someone kicked a puppy in front of you?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at you. His girlfriend hit his shoulder lightly.
“I’m fine,” you countered, moving in between bodies to your closet. “I just didn’t expect all of you to be in here.”
“Sorry,” Peggy said, grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him into the hall. “We’ll wait in the lobby for you.”
“Bucky’s getting a limo to take us to Brooklyn,” Wanda said excitedly. “I’ve never been in a limo before.”
“Wait,” you said, turning to look at her. “Who invited Bucky?”
“I did!” She grinned at you. “He stopped by looking for you earlier, and I told him we were all going out tonight and that he should come, too.”
Great…just great. That was not the environment you wanted to be in when confronting him about…things.
You changed quickly and freshened your makeup just in time for Wanda to announce that the limo had arrived. As you made your way to the limo with the others, you decided to situate yourself as far from Bucky as possible.
The ride was short and sweet to the Brooklyn venue, where your group piled out of the limo and wandered inside. Wanda had secured VIP access through Vision, even though his band was only locally a big deal, so you made your way to that area and immediately got a drink.
Much to your surprise (and relief), Tony and Pepper were there sitting already, so you sat beside them, dragging Sam and his girlfriend with you to fill up the other seats.
The band was pretty good. They sounded like a cross between The Killers and Harry Style’s solo stuff, and you were pretty impressed by Vis’ talent. You got so into the music that you didn’t notice when Sam and his girlfriend got up from the table, leaving the chair next to you wide open for intruders.
So of course, Bucky sat down.
“Hey,” he said loudly, leaning over. “Good band, huh?”
“Yeah,” you replied, not bothering to look at him.
Oh my god, you were so uncomfortable! How could you look at him the same now? Was your crush really real or were you just lonely?
Besides, he’d totally reject you. You weren’t rich, weren’t fancy and going to an Ivy League school…you weren’t exotic, weren’t used to the finer things in life and you didn’t run on aesthetic and cucumber water.
What would you possibly have in common with him to make him interested in you?
Or worse, maybe he was lying before…maybe he really did see you as a sister?
“Are you avoiding me?” Bucky asked finally, turning his whole frame toward you. “Did I do something, or…?”
Shit.
“No,” you replied immediately, looking at him for the first time all night. His eyes were wide and serious, staring at you like you were the only one in the room, and you could practically feel yourself begin to sweat under the intense scrutiny.
“After you found me at your dorm the other night, you started avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you Bucky.”
“Wanda just gave me a tour around some parts of NYU after we left. She mostly talked about that guy,” Bucky said, nodding at the stage where Vis was currently head-banging his little heart out.
“Great. That’s not why I’m preoccupied.” It was only a half-lie, and you could live with that.
“Then what’s the matter with you? You’re acting weird.”
You shook your head. “It’s nothing…it’s just…” Your mind raced as you tried to find an excuse. There was only one other thing that was wrong right now. “The kids I volunteer with can’t go to the play they wanted.”
Bucky sat back, surprise on his features. “Why?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m working on something.” You offered him a small smile, thinking quickly to distract him. “Anyways, I saw your Instagram post. Don’s really working you to death lately, isn’t he?”
If there’s anything Bucky could go on and on about, it’s exercising.
This time, though, he merely shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
Great. Your one fallback topic failed miserably.
The two of you sat in uncomfortable silence until Sam and his girlfriend returned to the table, forcing Bucky to return to his seat.
The two of you didn’t discuss anything again that night.
The next morning, you were expecting to sleep in until at least noon. That was your only day to rest, and you usually looked forward to it. However, Wanda and your friends had other ideas.
Wanda shook your shoulder over and over again, until you rolled on your back and opened your eyes to glare at her.
“What, Wanda, what? It’s Sunday! Let me sleep.”
“You are not going to want to miss this, Y/N, trust me.”
“Miss what?” You rubbed your eyes; they felt like someone had scratched them with sandpaper. “You’re not making any sense. It’s Sunday!”
There wasn’t much you didn’t want to miss on Sundays, to be honest. You hated Sundays. Never mind the fact that you weren’t having dinner with the Barnes family today.
“It’s already afternoon, Y/N, and your group leader, Clint, he has been trying to reach you but you slept through the call. There is a charity event, some kind of fundraiser he needs to help with today.”
That made you sit up. “A fundraiser? They never mentioned a fundraiser.”
She shrugged. “I got the instructions from him, they are on your desk when you’re ready.” Wanda grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m meeting Vis for brunch, I’ll see you later.”
“See you,” you mumbled, pushing your blanket off and swinging your feet to the floor to stand. You padded over to the desk and grabbed her note, eyes widening.
Fundraiser – Columbia University’s alumni center – 1PM
You grabbed your phone to check the time, feeling a surge of panic when you realized that you had thirty minutes to get ready and get there.
After a quick Juno ride, you managed to step into the alumni center less disheveled than you originally expected. Your eyes quickly found Clint’s…
…and Bucky’s.
Now it all made sense…the sudden event, the Columbia location, the loads of people milling around…
You didn’t bother to hide your surprise as you made your way over to them.
“Bucky?”
“Hey,” Bucky greeted cheerfully. “Glad you could make it.”
“What is all this?” You gestured around the room. “Is this because of you? How did you swing this so quickly?”
At least twenty tables were set up just for silent auction items, some of which you recognized as being Bucky’s own property. There was a face painting station for little kids, and a few food tables (from some pretty well-known places) had set up to sell hors d'oeuvres to the attendees.
Speaking of those in attendance, it wasn’t your typical event. There was a mix of people in street clothes and designer outfits, all here to support Clint’s organization.
Your eyes slid back to Bucky’s in question, but he just shrugged.
“You seemed so sad last night, Y/N, that I asked Sam what was wrong. When he told me, I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. I wanted to do something good for a good cause.”
Okay, something was going on. Maybe you never really woke up this morning...there was no way that James Buchanan Barnes was holding a charity function. No, the real Bucky was somewhere doing pull-ups with Don in $600 gym clothes. This couldn’t be right.
Clint provided some clarity, looking the most relaxed you’d seen him, ever. “Bucky here saved the program. Initial tallies just from this first fifteen minutes are more than we received for our entire fiscal year, Y/N. You should be proud of your friend for what he’s done to help these kids.”
Your wide-eyed gaze flickered back to Bucky’s face, though he was showing no pride or ego. His eyes were just full of serious concern as he looked around the room, as if making sure that everything was going well.
He caught you staring at him. “What? I care about the arts!”
You grinned at him, and were about to thank him again when someone you recognized from occasional Instagram posts sauntered up to Bucky.
“Hey man!”
“Hey, Chase,” Bucky said, shaking the other guy’s hand. “Thanks for coming out, man.”
The guy – Chase – shook his head, looking around the room. His bright gold watch looked stupid with his grey suit, in your opinion, but it could just be that you were getting bad vibes from him.
“I just came down to see what James Barnes was doing here slumming it for charity. I never would have thought I’d see the day.”
Oh geez. You were about to open your mouth when Bucky’s brows furrowed, his stance changing a little.
“Slumming it? Since when is helping kids in need ‘slumming it,’ Chase? Don’t you have a problem with the way these inner city schools are left behind?”
Chase chuckled. “If they were meant to have the wealth, they’d have it, James. Just like you have it and I have it.”
Bucky turned fully, arms crossing over his broad chest. “I have it because my dad has it, jackass, just like you. We were born into the privilege, the least we can do is help.”
In that moment, you honestly had never felt more proud of him. Bucky was growing as a person, and you got to be here to witness his incredible kindness.
“You’re just new money trash,” Chase sputtered, turning to look over his shoulder at you. “It’s because you hang around with Brooklyn trash, isn’t it? This is your influence? Why don’t you go back to your lesser borough?”
Bucky let his arms drop to his side as he got in the guy’s face. “What’s your problem, man? She’s a good person, just trying to help, which is more than I can say for you.”
Chase held his arms up in surrender. “When you’re done playing house with the help, you know where to find me,” he said, backing away before turning and exiting the center altogether.
Bucky was fuming, but you had quite a different reaction. You knew how much his place in society meant to him. You knew what pressure George and Winnie put on him to maintain that status.
“Bucky, I’m grateful to what you did here, but you don’t have to-“
“No,” he said, turning to you with flashing eyes. “Don’t even worry about it. That guy? He doesn’t matter. None of these people do unless they want to help.”
“I don’t want to ruin your reputation,” you said weakly. “Or make you lose friends over this.”
“People like that aren’t really friends, Y/N. Friends stand by each other…they care about each other.” Bucky’s fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to regain some calm. “They don’t act like that.”
You chewed on your lower lip nervously, unsure of what else to say.
“Besides, this is for you,” Bucky added softly. “I’m not completely unselfish here. It’s for the kids, sure, but it’s for you.”
“You don’t need to make me your charity case, Buck. I had things under control.”
“No, that’s not what…I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N. What I meant was…you make me want to be better, in whatever I do. You’re smart and beautiful, and you have the biggest heart…”
Your heart soared, and a little hope began to bloom. “You think all that about me?”
His blue-grey eyes widened. “You have to know you are, inside and out, just…perfect. But that’s not the only reason why I’m doing this. It’s a good character building experience for me…it’ll look good on resumes…it’s a good character building experience...for me....”
“You said that already,” you chuckled, moving closer to him. “But I get it. You’re doing this for the kids, mostly. That’s all that matters.”
“They are the only ones who need me,” he confirmed, looking down at his feet.
“That’s not true.”
He looked up again. “It’s not? Are you saying that…you need me?”
“Bucky,” you laughed, reaching over to shove his shoulder playfully.
That did it, though.
Bucky pulled you into his arms, moving you both out of sight from the rest of the charity attendees. Your breath was shallow as you stared at him, his expression as unsure as he’s ever looked in his life.
You knew what you had to do. Bucky was good at a lot of things, it turned out, but this whole change-of-relationship thing wasn’t one of them.
So you kissed him.
You leaned over and planted your lips on his, and the second you felt his hands cup your face as he kissed you back, you knew you were done for.
And anyone could probably guess what happened next…
AS IF!
You weren’t ready to move that fast, not yet.
Instead, you asked Bucky to be your date to the opening of the kids’ play. Wanda brought Vis, and the rest of your friend group came to show their support, too.
The play about the crime-fighting duo was entitled ‘The Unknowns,’ and the kids really gave it their all. The masked heroes saved a group of kids from bad people who were trying to quash any art or creativity, and the parallels to real life not lost on you at all.
When Peter came out on stage for his bow as author, you started the standing ovation, proud of all that he and his troupe had accomplished.
And when Clint insisted that you join him onstage, well, you’d never heard Bucky cheer that loud for anyone before.
I know it’s been a while so if someone wants off this ride let me know:
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