pov- imagines

PEBBLES- B. BARNES

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of other characters
warnings: broken glass, language, i can't remember anything else?
about: based off of this

he is aware of how dumb this is- too aware of how stupid he looks, standing outside of the apartment you'd gotten for situations specifically like this: when you were mad and knew how little bucky had to do to get you to forgive him, even when you didn't particularly want to yet.

the most relevant- and the reason he's standing in front of your apartment with an obnoxiously large boombox over his shoulders- was his forgetting a date. a date that wouldn't have been a big deal if you hadn't constantly talked about it for months, considering your excitement for planning a date "he deserved," in your words. it took months to set up, thanks to the authentic vintage items you ordered for him. he felt horrible about it, and his heart fell into the pit of his stomach when his eyes fell on your decorated room, candles blown out and the food you spent hours making deep in the trash can. the grin he wore from his night out dropped like the hair you twisted delicately into the intricate hairstyle after ripping out the stunning hair clips you had bought two weeks before.

he had barely been able to see you for a minute before you shook your head with glossy eyes, murmuring that it was fine when it clearly wasn't, and he was nearly too caught up to notice how marvelous you looked, the ghost of the makeup you carefully applied, with red lips and shiny silver nails, tiny constellations of stars hanging off your ears. he was left to stare at the trail of disappointment you left when you walked away, and then finger the dress he remembered seeing on pretty girls at dances that could never compare to you. he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration at himself, smelling your perfume on the dress that he'd probably never see on you- and it was his fault.

he had let sam convince him that you needed space and left you alone for all of twenty- three hours and fifty minutes before calling you every ten minutes to apologize profusely. he called until your voicemail was full and natasha was jamming a finger in his chest because she had actually gotten through to you, which meant she knew exactly what happened (and she was angry, understandably). at least he now knew your phone wasn't broken, although he never truly thought it was; he wasn't stupid enough to believe so.

now, he was regretting ever talking to steve, and now pondering how he ever thought asking steve-never-had-a-girlfriend-rogers for relationship advice was a good idea. but it was either him or sam, who would absolutely push him into a lake if he had the chance. steve's advice was obvious, something along the lines of incorporate your sorry into something she likes, which was confusing, but bucky figured it out (contrary to the current situation, he really wasn't that stupid).

so at the moment, he was trying to figure out how a boombox worked. he was from the forties, and he had barely figured out how to work a cell phone- thanks to you.

muttering a curse under his breath, he jammed his flesh finger on one of the comically large buttons continuously, flinching when it suddenly began to ring out a song at an unreasonable ear- piercing volume.

why did you have to be so obsessed with rom coms, and why did they have to be so ridiculous?

he hoisted it on his shoulders and waited, calling out your name. after a minute of his ears begging him to stop, he grunted, unsure if the reason you hadn't made your way over to your window was because you hadn't heard him or because you had.

putting the huge thing down, he remembered a scene from one of the movies you'd made him watch a few weeks ago. he raised an eyebrow and picked up a small rock, contemplating where this was a good idea or not, and decided fuck it- what's the worse that can happen?

breaking your window, he realizes soon after, is the worst thing that could happen, but he consoles himself by remembering it could've hit you, but that doesn't help much when he hears your startled yell. he cringes for underestimating his super soldier strength, glancing at the metal palm where the pebble had once laid.

"what the fu-" he hears soon after, a string of curses following, and your wild form running to your window with a gun grasped in your hand, "what was- bucky?" you ask, putting the weapon down and squinting at him.

he honestly doesn't know what to say, and the sounds of the song from the boombox are still loud and right next to him. "i'm sorry! i'm trying to apologize!"

"you're trying to- you broke my window!" you yell, pointing at the shattered glass.

he winces, "i- i was trying to be romantic? like in the movies!"

you look at him, and he's surprised when he hears you laugh, your head tilted back. "wait for me down there!" you request, and he does, staying in the same, sheepish position when you come down. "doll, i am so sorry for- for everything. the date and the window- which i will pay for-"

you shake your head and cut him off with a hand on his chest, "it's okay, i was really angry at you and i still am, but the- this whole thing- it's the sweetest thing anyone has done for me. you owe me a window, but i forgive you, you big dumb idiot."

bucky's chest rumbles underneath your fingers when he laughs, and his arms pull you closer, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. the song is still playing when you pull away and you push at the box with your feet, "how do you turn this off?" you ask, and bucky hesitates, "i... think we're going to need to call shuri for that."