CRAVE - Bucky Barnes x Marvel AU

Part 1

Rolling my eyes at yet ANOTHER messed up 'piece of art.' Pathetic. All my workers are, utterly useless. Do I give a damn if they have a fashion degree in whatever prestigious collage they went to? No. I want artists, I'M an artist for crying out loud. And there's nobody who can do what I do. That little line keeps my cool each and everyday.

"No." I casually push another mannequin out of my way as I walk down the isle. All my little artsy designers line themselves up with their mannequins with something they've "poured their heart and soul into," each day, it's rare I actually pick out any.

"So you've replicated Hiroshima?" I ask a newbie with giant puffed up sleeves on her design
"N-no ma'am," she stuttered, keeping her head down "sorry."

I walk on. The design wasn't hideous, I'd just be too embarrassed if Vogue saw THAT was created in my workshop.

"OKAY!" I snapped and turned around, looking down the isle. Not a soul dared interrupt me, or move. I smiled at my power. "I want Hiroshima in my office." I said casually, the girl squirmed a little as she gathered up some of her design papers and heaved her mannequin down the end of the isle, eyes watching her, down the corridor into my office.

I call it the workshop, it's actually an old ballroom, and my office was once some snobby lord's drawing room. My building was situated in the centre of London, the architecture making people look or take a photo on occasion. I preferred it to a skyscraper, it was more me more artistic. Fuelled me and my workers with ideas.

"Now don't threat," I said casually as the girl sat down in front of me "what's your name?"

"Wanda, ma'am," she told me keeping her head down

"You're new, correct?" I asked, jotting her name down

"Yes, I've been here three weeks," she said. Probably wondering why I haven't noticed her sooner, I have done, but only now I've wanted to talk to her.

"I love Hiroshima." I said bluntly, her face lit up "I just need a few adjustments; make it silk, a sweetheart neckline, all white, elaborate the sleeves a little more, make it shorter, have diamonte net over the legs and arms. Then sort out some shoes- can I trust you on that?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yes, I'll get right to work," she furiously scribbled what I said down on her hand "thank you!" She said as she left the room, dying to get to work again.

~

I hopped into my sleek Bugatti La Voiture Noire, handing the driver who brought it round a note, not glancing to see what it was. From his thanks, I knew it was a fifty. Speeding down the road, something that came naturally to me, being a good driver. I glanced at my lipstick in the mirror, rubbing my temples with one hand, when I noticed my face was fixed in that scalding position.

I never liked to call myself a bitch, but at times like these I knew I was acting like one. There were a couple of names I'd been called before.

Ma'am, yes. Babe, from some idiots. Cutie, from those who wish to get slapped. Boss, I liked that, in all contexts. Bossbitch? Occasionally.

That's who I am, so much so I can't remember who I used to be. That saying, nobody does. I've done well to keep my past completely private, and it'll stay like that.

My phone bleeped- Howard. My personal assistant, the only voice I can stand half the time, his voice truly belonged to a New Yorker, I hired him for that reason.

Joking. He's the best, wonderfully artistic, organised, gay, serious but funny, always employee of the month.

"Hey Howard," I said casually, only ever answering the phone like that to him

"Hiroshima?" He asked, I could feel him raising one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows

"Oh stop it, Wanda's got a great eye. She doesn't know it."

"Well, your winter collection will be stunning- so we're going all white?" He asked

"Yup. But tell them to design with whatever colours they want, I'll just paint over it at the end."

"Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant..." he seemed to be writing stuff "who's closing the show this time?"

"Make it Winnie?" I pleaded jokingly, I knew Winnie Harlow was the perfect option to close the runway.

"Oh honey..." he laughed a little "if Crave isn't the cover of Bazaar, Vogue, Harrods and EVERYTHING I swear down I'm suing them all!"

"Bye Howard," I laughed and hung up, pulling up outside my humble abode.

I bought three Georgian townhouses in belgravia square and built them together, my creation looks intimidatingly over at the three houses opposite. I spent the rest of the night answering calls and opening emails.

I stared at my inspiration board. Not what you'd normally expect a fashion designer to have on theirs: white feathers, fabric, snake skin and leather, a back drop of red, pictures of all my idols, song lyrics, and CRAVE spray painted black over it all.

Okay yeah, so I called my fashion brand empire Crave. It's meaning to me. I've craved this life for as long as I can remember, it pours my whole hearted soul, determination and desire into five letters. And at times, I still crave more.

NOTE:// so hope u like it! Winnie Harlow is a queen so I had to make sure she was modelling for Crave!

Also, Wanda will get a part in this story! Generally excited to build her character up.

Would appreciate feedback btw ;)