Title: take the shot
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: College!Roommate!Bucky x f!Reader
Warnings: roomates au, forced roommates, acquaintances to lovers, mutual pining, drinking, swearing, suggestive situations, annoying characters (lol), varying points of view, countless amounts of sass, fluff
Word Count: ~6.7k
Summary: You transfer schools midway through the semester at college and get placed into the last dorm with space for you - a coed suite. And you're just in time for the rager he's throwing this weekend.
A/N: just a lil treat i thought up a few weeks ago <3 beta'd by the effervescent @jadedvibes , my beloved. if you enjoy it, reblog it! leave a comment, too, we love interaction here <3 thank u! happy aprilllllllll <3
The stone towers and tiled spires jutting upward from the main building on campus are a lot more intimidating now that you’re standing directly in front of them. They ooze class and history and money, which, up until you were awarded the scholarship that allowed you to transfer here midterm, you had heretofore never experienced. It awed you, even more so when you entered your dormitory hall. The walls climbed high into the sky, decorated with expensive, ancient portraits of people that must have been important at some point; the ceilings were gabled, rafters finely carved and decorated. Not a leaf in the multitude of bouquets adorning small tea tables at intervals along the hallway dared move a centimeter out of place.
You're brought back to the present when you run nose-first into the shoulder of your guide. Startled, she readjusts her hair and snaps at you, "Watch it, new kid."
Shrinking away from her, you smile sheepishly, "Oops, I'm sorry. My head was somewhere else."
Muttering under her breath, she adds, "Yeah, up your ass."
You frown, but before you can say anything else, she flips her hair and smiles so brightly at you that you squint and take another step back.
"Because you're starting so late in the school year, you've been assigned to the only room available, a coed suite. Hopefully that's not a problem."
Something about her smile feels insincere. "Oh that's fine, yeah I grew up with four brothers so this should be, like, a piece of cake." You snort, hoping for some kind of commiseration, but as your guide's smile wavers, nearly betraying her disgust, you wish you were anywhere but in this moment. You put your hand to your forehead, regretfully rubbing it as your guide turns and unlocks the door with what’s now your key.
The sound of laughter draws your attention back up, your new roommates bellowing from deep within. You take hold of your bags, eager to get in and unpack, waiting for your guide to step aside so you can get through the open door. But, she doesn’t. Instead, you’re left standing behind her as she stares straight ahead.
You step to the side of her and are about to ask her to politely move her toned ass out of the way when you witness a change in her demeanor. She transforms before your eyes from the grumpy, too-good-for-you mean girl to a sweet wilting flower, twirling her hair around one finger as her stance sinks, one hip jutting out pronouncedly as she simultaneously pushes her chest out. You snort again and lean against the tall handle of your suitcase, ready for whatever show she’s about to put on.
“Hey, Buck. Miss me?”
The blatant disregard for her question is enough to make your own cheeks blush from secondhand embarrassment as silence emanates from the room. You bite down on a knuckle to keep yourself from laughing as she continues.
She clears her throat and flips her hair, becoming visibly flustered, “Well, ha-ha, uhm, so, your like, new roommate is here, or whatever.” Feigning indifference with the added flare of valley girl mannerisms coupled with the proto-typical accent. Nice.
Poking your head inside, you look back and forth, then back at your guide, and you try to hold back your smirk, “There’s no one in there.”
Her façade falls away completely. She stamps her foot, flipping her hair again, trying vainly to regain some of her previous composure. Without looking at you, she tosses you your key, turns, and skulks back down the hall, hollering a rehearsed line over her shoulder, “If you need anything, I’m Missy.”
She stops and swings her head back to you, “But don’t need anything.” And then she’s gone.
Alone in the hallway of your brand new school, you take a deep breath and breach the threshold.
—
As it turns out, within the suite, you each get your own, unshared space, as well as your own bathrooms, and they trail down separate hallways, neither of them sharing a wall with the other. Each room leads to the center living area - it’s huge, decked out with a massive TV, gaming consoles, a huge sectional couch, foosball, a ping pong table, a pool table; anything you could think of wanting to do, you spotted.
Including your roommate.
Shaking your head, you put that thought aside for now. You just got here, for crying out loud. Once you were finished unpacking the mountain of things you hadn’t even remembered bringing in the first place, you flopped onto your mattress and stared at the delicate engravings dotting the crown molding encircling the room for a solid five minutes before you dragged yourself to your feet and headed back out into the main room.
—
It’s a surprise to see a body on the sofa when you reemerge, halting you in your tracks. He’s sitting there with his attention wholly focused on the shooter game he was playing on the massive plasma screen. You watch him lick his lips in concentration and immediately feel your cheeks blush.
Shaking your head and putting on your bravest face, you plonk down next to the boy, who jumps, stopping his game and pulling the massive headphones off his head. He stares at you, still as a statue, for a long, long moment before he jolts and sticks his hand out, “Uh, shit, hi. I’m Bucky Barnes, you must be my new roommate.”
His eyes are what strike you first: a piercing, bright blue, dancing in the warm light from the quickly dimming sky. His tousled brown hair sits perfectly messy atop his head, and a cocky grin finds its way to his lips. There’s a careless ease about him, a charm that melts into your skin and soothes any jitters you might have about meeting new people. You notice he’s a big fan of rings as well, his right hand sporting so many that it might as well be made of metal.
Clearing your throat and taking his hand, you introduce yourself, giving it a quick shake before letting it go, tucking your hair behind your ear. A somewhat awkward silence settles over the two of you, so you decide to break it, “So, this is what you do for fun, huh?”
“Yeah,” Bucky gives you an awkward laugh and turns back to the screen, resuming the game he’d paused when you had spooked him, though you do catch his gaze as he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. He then quickly refocuses as his character is shot and throws his controller down on the table.
“Aw, c’mon, no way that should’ve hit!” Bucky complains, rubbing his eyes. Without hesitating, you pick the controller back up and start a new round.
Bucky laughs to himself, a little surprised. “Actually, speaking of fun,” he starts, “you’re just in time for the Fall Mixer.” He laughs again as you look at him with an upturned brow, “I know, I know, sounds lame as hell, but they made the mistake of letting me plan it this year.” He waggles his eyebrows, “Get ready for the most kick-ass rager you’ve ever been to.”
“Well, who says I even wanna go?” you quip, smirking when you hear the dismay in his voice.
“I… uh, okay, how about we make a deal?”
You pause the game, turning to fully face him, intrigued.
He picks up a second controller and hooks it into the console, saying, “If I beat you, you come to the rager, no questions asked. If you win, you can stay home and be a loser.” He bumps your shoulder with his playfully. You roll your eyes and agree, immediately unpausing the game.
The two of you go head to head, the match clearly lasting longer than Bucky thought it would. “Damn, you’ve got skills, newbie. Where’ve you been hiding?” he asks, impressed. You’re about to answer when your controller is knocked out of your hands and your character is shot, the game declaring Bucky the winner.
“Hey!” You grin, “You cheater!” You throw a pillow at him, hitting him on the side of his head.
Bucky snickers, “Never said I had to beat you fair and square.” Rolling your eyes again, you flop into the cushioned sofa back. He hops up, stretching as though he’d just run a marathon, “Well, guess I’ll see you at the party Saturday, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Cheater.”
Bucky chuckles and disappears into his room, leaving you alone to try and get the image of his fingers flicking the different knobs and buttons on the controller out of your mind.
—
You blink, and suddenly it’s the day of the Fall Mixer. Tugging at your pleather mini skirt and readjusting your babydoll top, you open your bedroom door and are smacked immediately with a thumping bass and people mingling everywhere, the scent of beer wafting lazily overhead. Looking around for a moment, bewildered, you watch as a couple attached at the lips barrels towards you, clearly in search of a place to be alone. You quickly turn around and lock your door, then flash them a bright smile. They sneer at you for a moment before turning back to each other and going back down the hall, staking out their next spot. You wipe your brown and lean back against your door, taking your bedroom key and stuffing it in your bra.
A bedroom key. You had a bedroom key for your dorm room. What in the hell kind of fancy-ass school does that?
Turning to look out at the crowd, you spot your roommate and walk forward, dodging the next couple trying to get into your room for some alone time. They try the door and frown as you walk away, making you smirk.
You march your way towards Bucky, hollering when you get near enough, “Barnes!”
He turns toward you and waves, then immediately stops when he sees the look on your face.
“What the hell, Barnes? You didn’t say the Fall Mixer was going to be here!”
He smiles as you tap your foot, crossing your arms. Shrugging, he laughs, “You didn’t ask!” He takes a sip of his drink, then turns around, grabbing a solo cup and filling it from the keg that he somehow got into the dorm without you hearing. Man, those rooms don’t let any sound through.
“Here, lighten up, huh? It’s a party, just relax and enjoy!” he hands you the cup and you take it begrudgingly, downing half of it the second it hits your lips.
Grumbling, you say, “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
He winks and turns back to his friends around him, leaving you to your own devices as you wander through the crowd of strangers that have infiltrated your space.
—
“I know, I know, I don’t know what to do,” Bucky groans, leaning back against the counter as he watches you walk away, nearly knocking his buddies’ drinks over.
Sam reaches out and catches them before they lose a single drop, setting them back down and receiving an appreciative look from Steve as he grabs his and cradles it in protection. Putting a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder, Sam says, “First of all, you spill my drink, I kick you out of your own party.” Bucky glares at him, and Sam continues, “Second, dude, if you like her, just tell her.”
Bucky grimaces, “Ah, yeah, see I would, but that would upset —Missy! Hey!”
Missy trots up to him like an over-pampered lost puppy, “Bucky-wucky, there you are! Aww, I missed you.” She nuzzles into his neck as his grimace deepens, and Sam tries not to spit out his beer, covering up his laughter as a cough attack.
Making a disgusted face, Missy reluctantly pulls herself from Bucky’s chest, “Ohmigod, could you like, do that somewhere else, please? It’s super gross and super annoying. Thanks.”
Sam and Steve both stare at her for a second, unamused and, frankly, appalled. Steve cuts in before Sam can put her in her place, “Yeah, sure thing. Buck, we’ll be in the kitchen when you’re, uh, done here.” He gives Bucky a tight smile and pulls Sam with him, who doesn’t stop glaring at Missy until his eyeline to her is broken,
Pleased with herself, Missy pops her foot up, pointing her toes, and places a light, manicured hand on Bucky’s chest, “So, where have you been all week, Mr. Busy? I brought that awful new girl to your suite earlier this week, and you weren’t even there to see my cute little tour guide outfit.”
She pouts, and Bucky swallows the bile rising in his throat, “Yeah I, uh, I was out, y’know. Had to help Steve prepare for his speech next week.” He chugs his entire cup, not wanting to elaborate on his lie, then immediately bends over to refill it. The perks of standing near the booze.
Just as Bucky stands back up, his cup disappears from his hand, and he watches Missy dump it into some random passerby’s drink. “Ah, ah, ah,” she tuts, tapping the end of Bucky’s nose with her finger, “too many carbs and you won’t be able to fit into those tight, sexy jeans anymore. Can’t have that.”
She winks at him, smacks his ass, then waves at a friend she spots across the room, “Oh, hey!”
Turning back to Bucky, she kisses him hard on the lips, then she pulls back and purrs, “Don’t do anything too naughty while I’m gone.” She turns back around so fast that her hair whips Bucky across the face, and as she walks away, Bucky hears her holler in a shrill, high-pitched voice, “Ohmigod, bitch, what is up?! What the fuck are you wearing?!”
He’s left staring after her, his mouth downturned in distaste, as Steve and Sam make their way back over to him.
“Man, she’s a keeper,” Sam jeers, earning a simmering glower from Bucky.
Steve elbows him and chimes in, “I get why you started dating her, I mean she’s real nice to look at, but. Dude.” Bucky’s gaze is pulled to him, and Steve gives him a knowing look.
He sighs, “We never dated. She just. Decided that we were in her head, I guess. We hooked up once, and now she’s harder to get rid of than flies on shit.”
After a beat of the three of them taking long swigs of their drinks, Bucky’s newly replenished, Sam finally offers, “You know what might get her to take a hint? You actually dating someone else.” He not-so-subtly gestures his head in your direction. “Take it from somebody who knows,” he grimaces, clearly remembering something deeply unpleasant.
Bucky turns sheepish, talking into his cup as he brings it to his face, “Shut up, okay? Don’t rush me, I’ll get there.” He upends his drink again, drinking it dry, and leans over to get yet another fill from the keg.
—
Being the new kid sucks. Royally. No matter what age you are. You’d think it’d get better with age, but no. It’s the exact same. Actually, it may be worse, because as you stand with your back against the wall of your own living room, you can feel the judgment radiating from each pair of eyes that passes by. You sigh, taking a drink from your cup, then leaning your head back, observing the crowd.
You’re entranced by a guy who takes the center of the room hostage with his god awful dance moves when two ginger heads of hair block your vision.
“Hi,” one of them says, “I’m Wanda.” She gives you a little wave and a small smile, tilting her head.
The other one introduces herself as well, “I’m Natasha. You’re Bucky’s new roommate, right?”
You give them a crooked smile, “What, am I that obvious?”
“In a school this small? Yeah, kind of,” Natasha answers, looking you up and down.
“We just thought you looked like you could use a friend,” Wanda offers, giving Natasha a disapproving look.
She just rolls her eyes in response, turning to you and saying, “We also wanted to know if you’ve had the absolute pleasure of meeting Missy yet.” Natasha raises an eyebrow and gives you a tight-lipped smirk, cocking her hip.
“What, the tour guide? Yeah, I’ve met her. She’s, um,” you start, searching for the right words.
“A heinous bitch,” Natasha finishes for you, earning her a light smack on the arm from Wanda.
“Be nice! Bucky likes her,” Wanda admonishes, though the second half of her comment settles a pit in your stomach.
“He does?” you ask, hoping your disappointment isn’t too heavily lacing your voice.
Natasha scoffs, “Yeah, as much as you can like a boa constrictor slowly strangling you to death.”
That earns her another light smack, “Nat!”
“What? I’m just being honest, you said I should try that more often.”
“I didn’t mean like that —”
“Hey, guys,” you cut into their squabble, “I appreciate the check-in.” You give them light smiles, and they settle down a bit. “What do you say we drink to forget we even know her?”
Both of them laugh and raise their cups to yours, “Deal!”
“Let’s fuckin’ partayyyyyyyy!” Natasha hollers, earning a cheer from the crowd.
—
Over the next few hours, the partiers in the dorm room get louder and louder, more intoxicated by the minute. Between Flip Cup, Beer Pong, Drunk Jenga, and King’s Cup, no one is safe from making an ass of themselves. It's glorious.
At some point, the couch was moved out of the way and the music was cranked, the bass shaking the picture frames set on the built-in bookshelves in the living room. One of them falls to the floor and cracks, but someone just picks it up and yells something incoherent, throwing it back down the ground and shattering it again. You chuckle, thinking the school decor needed a little sprucing up. Plus, that framed picture of the dean had been creeping you out. You could swear the eyes had been following you all week.
“Here’s your shotttttttt, gorgeous!”
You turn around, rolling your eyes at Nat’s sing-song tone, “I thought you said all the cups were gone!”
“Found this mug up in the cabinets in the kitchen. You aren’t getting off that easy!” Natasha winks at you, walking over to you and handing you a well-loved ceramic coffee mug glazed in a bright blue. It reminds you of Bucky’s eyes.
“Well, at least not yet,” Natasha purrs, winking and clawing at you like a kitten, and you giggle at her drunken teasing. Then, with a grand flourish of her hand, she points at you, “Drink!”
You look back down at the mug in your hands, thinking about Bucky. It’s just the booze, you tell yourself, everyone is hot if you drink enough. Over the edge of the cup, you can see Natasha’s foot tapping. Sighing, you smile up at her, raising your mug in cheers, and then you down whatever was in it.
It burns as it runs down your throat, sending a shiver through you. You feel the alcohol seep out of your nostrils as you breathe out, “Holy shit, Nat, what was in that?!”
“Absinthe,” she says nonchalantly. When she spots the concern knitting your brows, she puts an encouraging hand on your arm, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Plus, it should help with the sad puppy dog look that’s been plastered on your face ever since you saw Missy give Buck a peck on the cheek an hour ago.
You frown at that, “I am not a sad puppy dog.”
“Right, right, sure,” Natasha says back, taking the mug from your hands. “I’m just gonna take that from you — Bucky will literally kill me if it gets broken.” She places it gingerly on the table beside you, being dramatically careful with it.
“Why, is it special or something?” you ask, eager to learn anything about your hot new roommate.
“All I know is that he drinks out of it every morning,” she pauses, thinking. “Huh. I’m pretty sure it was clean when I gave it to you.”
“Nat!” you exclaim. “Gross, dude!” You stick your tongue out dramatically, swiping at it with your hands in a comical attempt to clean it.
“What’d she do now, flash somebody again?” His voice is deep as it floats over your shoulder. Natasha has a smug look on her face as her eyes flick from you to Bucky, standing behind you.
“No one would call that gross, Barnes, and you know it,” she sasses, sticking her tongue out at him while simultaneously reminding you to pull yours back in. You snap your jaw shut and try frantically to get your drunk brain to stay cool and not make a fool of yourself.
“Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t call that gross,” you babble, watching Natasha’s eyebrows raise as she tilts her head, her smirk growing a little bit wider.
Bucky’s unsure voice wraps around you again, though it sounds like he’s closer this time, “Should I leave you two alone, then?”
You whip around with a quick, “No!” and your hands immediately land on his chest; you hadn’t realized how close to you he actually was.
Pulling your hands back as if his chest was white-hot to the touch, you collect yourself, “No, no, uhm, join us! Come drink— we’re playing Categories. Every time you fuck up, you take a shot.”
“Sounds like a game made for me, I’m in,” Bucky smiles warmly at you and you’re almost one hundred percent certain you’re melting into a puddle on the floor. Your knees wobble, then betray you, buckling, but Bucky catches you by the elbow before you can hit the ground. “Whoa, hey there, you alright?”
Your cheeks promptly heat, “Yes, yeah I’m fine. Yep. Who’s turn is it?” Hoping to draw attention away from the embarrassment taking over your face, you look around the group you, Wanda, and Natasha have attracted.
“Mine, I think!” Wanda giggles and hiccups, swaying as she leans down to grab her cup. Several others follow unsteadily in suit. “Hmmmm… my category iiiiiiisssssssss…” her eyes land on you, and she smiles, “cereals. You can do that, right?” Her looking out for you touches your heart, and you shake your head yes, though it makes you a little dizzy when you stop.
“Great! Okay, I'll start. Fruity Pebbles!”
“Cocoa Puffs,” Sam lists.
“Raisin Bran,” Steve answers.
“Dude, seriously?” Sam asks, looking at Steve.
“What? It’s good for a healthy diet!”
“Oh my god, will you let me answer, please?” Natasha asks. “Captain Crunch.”
“Bucky’s Charm,” you answer, a little slurred.
The group looks at you, half of them confused, the other half grinning widely. It takes you a second or two for your eyes to grow wide, “Lucky Charms! I meant… I meant Lucky Charms.”
No one around you says anything, but now everyone is grinning at you. “Oh my god,” you slap a palm to your forehead, too embarrassed to look at anyone. “Someone else go, for the love of god, please.”
Still no one says anything, so, without making eye contact with anyone, you call out, “I have to pee!” and you rush off, locking yourself in the bathroom.
Leaning against the counter, you stare yourself down in the mirror. “Get it together, you’re embarrassing me,” you tell yourself, leaning in close to wipe away more smudges from your eyeliner and your mascara, reapplying your lipstick to cover where it’s worn away.
After what you feel is too short a time, someone knocks on the door.
"Fuck," you whisper, then call out, "occupied! Just a second!"
The voice that comes through the door twists your stomach all over again. "You okay in there?" Bucky asks, rapping on the door a few more times.
Groaning, you know the jig is up. You open the door, slowly, and look up at him, "Uh, hey. I'm fine, yeah, if you don't take my pride into account.” Unable to help yourself, you roll your eyes again as you feel your cheeks heat, dropping your face into your hand. You tip your head back up when you feel one of his hands lightly grab your wrist to pull your hand away from your face.
Chuckling, Bucky says, “You don’t need to be embarrassed. It was cute, what you said.”
A pregnant pause seats itself between the two of you before he speaks again, “So, you think I’m charming?” The smirk that settles on his face compels you to punch him in the arm. He just laughs louder and grabs the spot you hit, “Ow!”
A coy smile finds its way onto your lips and you’re about to respond when a shrill squeal nearly blows out your hearing.
“Bucky! Ohmigod, I found you!” Missy comes traipsing over, standing directly in front of you and shoving you back with her ass, making you stumble. You laugh indignantly, amazed that she had the gall. “I’ve been hunting for you everywhere! Have you been hiding from me or something?” She taps the tip of his nose again, missing once or twice thanks to the alcohol now in her system. You give Bucky a quick two finger salute and dip out, eager to be anywhere but around those two right now.
Wading through the crowd of people, you head back to the table covered in different options of liquor and beer, grabbing an empty solo cup and resigning to just going and rinsing it off before making yourself a cocktail. These rich kids sure know how to party. You fill your cup with a mixture of something that you vaguely hope you don’t regret later, and you scan the room. You spot the wide French doors that lead out onto the balcony of your dorm, and you worm your way over to it.
Cracking the doors open, you get an immediate breeze, cool as it fills your lungs. This is exactly what you needed. You’re about to shut the doors behind you when Natasha and Wanda appear, slithering through the crack in the doors before closing them themselves.
The sounds of the rambunctious college students inside are immediately quieted, the stillness now filled only with the lazy shaking of tree leaves and the odd coo of an owl here and there.
“So, we saw Bucky follow you when you ran from the game,” Wanda breaks the silence, raising an eyebrow at you.”
“Very smooth, by the way,” Natasha teases, quickly reprimanded with a shush by Wanda. Nat just takes a smug sip of her drink in response.
“Did he, um, go to find you?” Wanda asks delicately, making you smile at how much care she’s taking to get to the gossip she actually wants to hear.
Natasha is slightly less tactful, “Did you two fuck in the bathroom?”
“Natasha!” Wanda exclaims.
“What? I’m not here to beat around the bush, unlike you,” she scoffs, turning her full attention to you.
“Oh my god, no — no. We didn’t fuck in the bathroom, Nat,” you answer, giggling, taking another swig of your mystery concoction. It scrunches your nose, but it’s actually not half bad.
“Well, that’s disappointing,” Natasha says dejectedly.
“Yeah, seriously,” Wanda agrees, taking a sip of her own drink.
“Okay, alright,” you laugh again, “you know what, we didn’t even get to talk that much because Missy showed up okay? Threw herself at him like he was the last man on Earth.”
“Ugh, vomit,” Nat responds.
You let silence sit with you for a bit as you all nearly finish your drinks. Curiosity overtakes you and you have to ask, “Does he really like her?”
“She would say yes,” Natasha says.
“He would say no,” Wanda adds, rolling her eyes into her cup.
“That’s — that’s incredibly unhelpful, thanks.”
“There’s one thing you need to learn about Missy, new kid,” Natasha starts, standing up straight and putting a hand on her hip. “She is like a plague, okay —I’m not joking, stop laughing! She slithers her way into guys’ lives and plants her fuckin’ roots. She did this a couple years ago to Sam, you remember that, Wan?”
“Oh my god,” she responds, exasperated, “she would not leave that poor boy alone! He thought up every excuse in the book to get away from her, and she would not take the hint. It’s like she thinks she’s entitled to every single boy or something, like all of them want to be with her. At least she thinks that until she gets bored or embarrassed, then she sinks her fangs into someone else.” Wanda holds two fingers up to her mouth like fangs and hisses, making you cackle.
Finishing off your drink, you sigh and ask, “So, you’re saying I just have to wait till she moves on?”
Nat’s eyes sparkle as she talks to you, “Why, do you like him?”
You purse your lips and bring your cup to them, face dropping when you realize it’s empty.
Wanda chimes in, her head turned towards the dorm, “Looks like you might not have to wait for long.”
Just as you follow her eye line, the doors open and quickly close, and suddenly, there’s Bucky. He only realizes the three of you are there when he takes a second to breathe.
“Oh, hey,” he exhales, addressing all three of you, though his eyes are trained solely on you.
Slinking their way around him, Natasha and Wanda move toward the opening Bucky just came through.
“We’re, uh,” Natasha catches your gaze, “we’re gonna go get you a refill, ‘kay?” She winks at you, and they’re gone.
Bucky moves towards you, sidestepping and leaning against the railing, looking out over the campus. You mimic him, turning around and resting your elbows against the stone banister, staring out in the same direction.
“Sorry about earlier,” Bucky finally says after a long time of gazing out over the treetops. “Missy is —”
You cut him off, not wanting to talk about her, “Yeah, no, I get it, you’re dating. It’s fine, it’s whatever.” You attempt to take another sip of your drink, again realize it’s empty, and set it down frustratedly next to you.
He looks at you hard for a beat, then says, “We’re not dating.”
You just snort in response, “Right, yeah, her dangling herself off you every chance she can really gets that message across.”
“I’m serious,” Bucky runs a hand through his hair frustratedly, “I don’t know what her deal is, but one day, she just decided —” He sighs, drops his hand, and continues, “She acts like I’m hers, but I’m not. And I don’t want to be.”
You’re looking at him now, though his eyes are focused somewhere off in the distance, “Is there someone else you’d rather it be, then?”
His strong jaw cuts into the night sky, the muscles flexing as he clenches his teeth, the rings on his hand glinting in the light spilling through the window panes of the balcony doors. Reaching over, unthinking and still tipsy, you grab his hand, playing with his rings and gazing at them. The two of you stay like this for a while as you spin the jewelry around and around his fingers. At some point, you look up, realizing he hadn’t answered you, and find his bright eyes focused on you.
“Yeah, there is,” he replies simply.
Without another word, he pulls his hand from yours and reaches it up, tracing along your jawline beneath your hair, cupping the side of your face as his other hand does the same. Bucky pulls you to him, close, and just as your lips are about to meet, the doors crash open.
“Bucky-wucky!” her shrill voice pierces the night, and then she gasps. “What are you doing?!” Missy demands, placing both hands on her hips and tapping her toes, waiting for a response.
Neither of you had stopped moving though, ignorant to the world around you, and as your lips meet, a wave crashes over you.
Desire. Contentment. Arrogance. Surprise. Need. Passion.
You pull him close to you, arms wrapping around his neck, his hands instantly moving to your waist as his lips press against you harder. His tongue snakes its way into your mouth, and you hang onto him tighter, bringing your hips forward to meet him. His hands respond again, one claiming the small of your back while the other travels downward, gripping you through your pleather skirt.
“Hello?!” Her voice is frantic and laced with anger. She huffs as the two of you continue to ignore her. Clearing her throat, she makes a show of her irritation by hollering over her shoulder to the crowd slowly forming behind her, “Well, fine! You’re not good enough for me anyway! I hope you and that ugly tramp are happy together, because we’re through. Do you hear me, Bucky Barnes? We’re THROUGH.”
With that, Missy turns her nose up, flips her hair, and stomps back inside, though not before tripping over a precariously placed foot, sending her flying forward. In an attempt to save herself, Missy whirls herself around to try to break her fall, but it doesn’t save her from the cold of the ice bucket of drinks her ass lands in anyway. She tugs herself up two or three times before she’s finally able to hoist herself up on her feet, with no help offered from anyone else. She’s met with a swell of laughter as she lets out a frustrated noise and stomps away.
Hidden from prying eyes, Wanda gives Natasha a little high five and giggles.
You and Bucky, however, are completely unphased, still attached to each other, clinging tightly as though you could be ripped apart at any moment. You run your nails up the back of his scalp, taking handfuls of his hair and tugging, eliciting a moan from him that travels through your veins and makes you shudder.
“Alright, alright, folks, nothing to see here,” Natasha calls out, attempting to herd the crowd away to give you some privacy. When no one moves, she screams out, “Hey, FUCK OFF.” She gets a few dirty looks as the students disperse around the room again, but she nods her head, satisfied.
Turning back to the two of you and spotting you on your back on the balcony with Bucky straddling you, she quickly moves to either side of the doors and releases the strings holding tasseled curtains back and out of the way of the windows. As they swing closed, the two of you are swathed in darkness, the last thing Natasha is able to see being Bucky leaning down over you, biting your neck and sucking, and making you moan back at him as you wrap your legs up around his waist.
—
Natasha strides over to where Sam, Wanda, and Steve are congregating and stealing peeks at the balcony doors.
“My boy finally did it, I’m so proud,” Sam wipes away a fake tear and sniffs dramatically, then takes a swig of his beer.
“I’m surprised Barnes had the balls to do it, if I’m honest,” Natasha jokes as she pours herself a new drink.
Wanda lets out a little sigh, tilting her head, “I think it’s sweet that they finally got together. I think they’re really cute as a couple.”
Natasha reaches over and clinks their cups together, “Amen to that. And the fact that we never have to be around that horrible, stupid, bitch of a woman—”
“Missy!” Steve calls out, bewildered and awkward, as she pushes her way into their conversation. “I’m surprised you’re still here, I thought you left.”
She looks over at him, batting her eyes, “No, no,” she flashes Steve a million-watt smile, “I couldn’t leave just yet, not without saying goodbye first.” Still moving in, she weasels her way next to Steve, dragging a long, perfectly polished fingernail down the center of his chest between his pecs.
“Okay, bye,” Natasha grumbles nastily into her cup, earning her a sharp look from Missy.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she sneers, flipping her hair around and placing herself directly in front of Steve, who’s pressing himself as far into the wall behind him as he can to get away from her. “I was talking to this big hunk of a sex god standing in front of me.” All Steve can manage is a stiff, insincere smile.
Wanda turns her head away, uncomfortable, as Natasha keeps her face buried in her drink, and Sam does his best not to laugh out loud as he watches Steve’s reactions.
Trying to ease her away from him, Steve takes hold of one of her shoulders and gently pushes her back, saying, “That’s real nice of you, but I’m sure you’re just torn up about the whole Bucky thing, I’ll bet you just wanna go back to your dorm room and—”
She cuts him off with a scoff, “Oh, please, that dork? Ugh, no, that’s like, so yesterday—”
Natasha interrupts again under her breath, “It was literally less than an hour ago.”
“— and I’m completely over it,” Missy finishes, glaring at Nat, who smirks into her cup. “Anyway, I’ve got my eye on someone new.” The hand that had been trailing down his chest makes its way around to Steve’s ass and gives it a hard pinch, making him jump and reach back to rub the now sensitive spot.
“Plus,” she adds, “I thought you might want this.” She holds up a tiny, folded piece of paper, and without waiting, sticks her hand in the front pocket of Steve’s jeans, leaving the paper there and patting its place when she pulls her hand back out. “Don’t miss me too much, ‘kay?” she winks at him and blows him a kiss as she swings her hips and strolls out the door.
The four of them just stare after her for a beat before Wanda asks, “Should we lock the door?”
The rest of them burst out laughing, minus Steve, who looks like he’s just found out he has a malignant tumor.
“Ah, cheer up, Stevie,” Natasha says, throwing her arm up around a slouching Steve’s shoulders, “think of this as an opportunity to work on your evasion tactics!”
Steve just sighs and holds out his cup, signaling a desperate need for a refill. Sam chuckles and obliges, helping him out as Steve just stares despondently at the floor.
Handing him back his cup, Sam remarks, “Hey, it’s basically a rite of passage at this point. Don’t worry about it.”
Steve looks up, makes eye contact with Sam, and, without saying a word, upends his full drink, wiping his mouth clean when he’s finished.
Sam grins, “That’s the spirit.”
“Oh my god,” Wanda shouts, startling the group. She looks around at them excitedly, “I love this song! Come dance with me, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease pretty pleaseeeee?”
Natasha and Sam move forward almost immediately, Sam with an excited, “Hell yeah!” while Natasha stops herself and turns around to face an unmoving Steve.
“Come on, you grumpy old man,” Natasha coos, holding her hand out to him gingerly as though she might startle him away, “have some fun. There’s not much you can do about Missy now.”
Steve sighs, putting a good-natured smile on, and takes her hand, following Natasha to the center of the room.
—
Together, the four of them dance the night away into the wee hours of the morning, not spotting either you nor Bucky separated from each other for the rest of the party, though they all only saw you both once on the way to your locked bedroom. They also could have sworn Bucky’s pants were on backwards as the two of you scurried by. The three of them watched as you reached your door, dug the key out of your bra, and disappeared inside, tugging Bucky in by the collar after you. They each took a shot in your honor, drinking out of the coffee mug you’d left on the table inside that was glazed the perfect blue to match Bucky’s eyes.