The Winter Highlander || Bucky x Reader

Part 2

Note before reading:

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story so far. Your comments made me smile.

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The Fat Falcon was completely jammed. You felt confused for just a moment, seeing as this was a smalltown pub on a regular Tuesday night, but then remembered you found yourself in rural Scotland. It reminded you of a vacation you and Oliver had taken to Cyprus, finding 16 year olds buying liquor at the supermarket whereas you, 20 at the time, weren't able to do so in America.

You ultimately managed to push your way through the crowd, gathering some looks from people you passed. You weren't sure whether they were looking at you because you were not from around here or because of the bright red coat you were wearing, which stood out like a sore thumb. You might as well have put a sign on your head that screamed that you were a foreigner. You sighed in relief when you managed to snag a barstool and sit yourself down at the bar. The place smelled of beer and the smell of some hearty dish wafting from the kitchen at the back. Peoplewere loud but seemed incredibly comfortable with their surroundings.

"Hi there hen. Can I get you anything?"

You looked up to find yourself staring at a redhead who stood across from you on the other side of the bar. She was holding three dripping pints in her hands as she blew a streak of hair from her face, revealing her bright green eyes to you. She seemed extremely skilled at her job as she somehow managed to not break eye contact with you while she put down the three pints next to your neighbours and quickly redid the messy bun she sported on top of her head.

"Oh yeah- amazing. Thanks. Do you sell food?" you asked as you peeled the red jacket off your body, revealing the warm cardigan you were wearing underneath.

"Fuck yeah, we do. Best pie in the Highlands," she replied with a cheeky smile.

"Sold," you said immediately, the prospect of food immediately brightening your mood.

The redhead smiled at your appreciatively, walked to the back of the bar and tapped on a little sliding window. It opened after a minute, revealing an old man with wispy grey hair who took the order. When she ultimately returned, she turned to you and looked you up and down, not even attempting to hide it.

"So- America. Want to try a proper beer?" she smiled as she grabbed a pint glass and started filling it. No foam. Beer up till the brim.

"Is it that obvious?" you sighed as you accepted the pint glass and stared at it tentatively when suddenly, you heard someone snigger only a couple of feet away. You looked up to find the blue eyed, dark-haired stranger who had watched you with that annoyingly handsome and unimpressed look on his face only hours ago, stare at you with a similarly irritating smile.

The deep chuckle that sounded from his lips reverberated in his chest. You rolled your eyes and brought the pint to your lips to chug down about a third of it in one go. This gave you the time you needed to stop your eyes from studying the man's stubbled jawline and his muscular upper arms, and instead changing your face to the famous scowl you had inherited from your father.

"You do drink like you're from here though," the redhead smiled. You chuckled as you set the glass down and took in a deep breath.

"I'm Wanda by the way," she continued as she started cleaning some of the pints that had been stacking up.

"Nice to meet you. My name is-"

"Bonnie?!" a man shouted before you could finish. You looked up to see the old man with the wispy grey hair staring at you with an astounded face. He had a large belly that was way too big for the cooking apron he was sporting, and held a steaming meat pie in his left hand.