One Shots || Bucky x Reader || ABC

F || Fall Feelings and Funfetti

Of all the things Bucky Barnes had expected to find during his usual morning run on a beautiful fall Sunday, it hadn't been you. And it definitely hadn't been you in the way you were currently hanging out of an upstairs window, dressed in nothing but an oversized ABBA t-shirt as you hurled insults at a blond man standing on the sidewalk in nothing but his boxers.

You, in your furious rage, were completely oblivious to the handsome blue-eyed man who stood to the side, watching the spectacle unfolding right in front of his eyes. You only had eyes for your now ex-boyfriend standing there in his boxers, looking up at you with a stupidly dumbstruck face you wanted to punch so badly. He was surrounded by a variety of his clothes he had kept at your apartment and a large variety of CDs, some of which he had desperately tried to catch as you had flung them out of the window like frisbees.

"No babe! No- Not that one-" the blond haired man started before he was forced to duck out of the way to avoid having the CD case hit him in the face. You grew even more frustrated as you kept missing.

"You listen to trash anyways you cheating piece of shit! Also- who the fuck doesn't love ABBA music, you freaking maniac?!" you retorted as you flung the last of his CDs out of the window, one of which hit him in the chest before it crashed to the pavement spectacularly. You almost didn't realize you had drawn a crowd to your apartment building that was clearly watching your meltdown like a very entertaining scene from a sitcom.

"Babe- just listen to me! It was just a mistake, she- she meant nothing to me!" he shouted back up to you, but you had left the windowsill to find yourself new ammunition. You returned promptly, carrying the half-eaten birthday cake you had baked him only yesterday, holding it up like you were about to drop the biggest bomb on his sorry ass.

"Suck it John, you're out! And you better stay out, you egotistical Funfetti-hating bastard!" you hollered out the window, throwing John's birthday cake at him for good measure. This time- you hit the bull's eye. You laughed loudly as you saw the outraged look on his face as he stared at you dumbfoundedly, his face largely covered in buttercream. You howled with laughter as a piece of cake fell off his shoulder down his front, leaving a particularly embarrassing line of whipped cream down his boxers.

"That's it- I'm coming back up!" he shouted as he foolishly attempted to rid his face of buttercream while he made for the apartment building's entrance.

This was when Bucky, after having stared up at you with a shocked but amused grin on his face, stepped up to the man and grabbed onto his arm before he could make it to the door.

"You should stay out man. She was quite clear you aren't welcome anymo-" Bucky started before John spun around immediately to push Bucky off of him, leaving buttercream imprints all over Bucky's running shirt.

"Stay out of it fit boy," John spat at him before he made another move to pull open the door. Before he was able to do so, Bucky pushed him up against the door, putting him in a very efficient but painful armlock. As delightful as it felt to have a handsome muscular stranger put John in a painful armlock, you shrieked loudly as you saw it happen, threw on the closest thing to shoes you could find and flung yourself down the stairs in a hurry.

"I suggest you rethink your actions before I have you arrested for the assault of an off-duty police officer and attempt at breaking and entering," Bucky said, his voice calm but cold as he waited for the man to stop struggling. Pulling John's arm tighter behind his back did the trick, as he finally relented.

"Fine. Fine, I'll go. That bitch is nuts anyways," John huffed, sighing in relief when Bucky released the painful grip on his arm and let him go. Right when John had collected most of his CDs and belongings, you had finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, bursting through the front door in time to see the crowd parting for an in-cake-covered John barely managing to hold on to all of the stuff in his arms.