With Him | Bucky x Reader | Enemies with Benefits

-48-

Y/n's POV:

Ouch.
My head hurts.

My eyes fluttered open slowly and I winced at the brightness around me. The curtains were drawn and sunlight was flooding into the room which wasn't doing much for my headache.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts, but I cringed at the memory of me practically throwing myself to Bucky in my intoxicated state.

I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose; it hurt just to think about it.

It was then that I noticed the absence of Buck's presence beside me, I definitely remembered forcing him into cuddling with me as I drifted off to sleep (although I was surprised that I could remember anything at all).

I forced myself to sit up in his (otherwise empty) bed and stretched as I looked around the room and tried to process everything.

1. I was in his Henley again, it was comfortable.
2. I was alone, his side of the bed was empty
3. I think I remembered biting him (?)

Then I looked to the bedside table on my left and discovered a note, some water, an emergency sick bowl, and some Aspirin.

Taking the pills and chugging down half the glass of water, I picked up the note and read what it said:

Morning, Y/n/n,
I decided not to wake you up, but I'm on a quick mission with Steve - I'll be back tonight.
I hope you don't feel too shitty, you can shower in my room and change into some of my sweatpants to walk back to yours.
Buckaroo :)

Fuck.

I called him "Buckaroo", didn't I? I'm never going to live that down.

I walked into his bathroom, still swaying a little on my feet, and saw how shit I looked in the mirror. Fun. 

Stepping out of the shower with a slightly clearer head, I did a double take and went back to check what I had just seen.

In the shower, next to his toxic green-colored bottle of three-in-one was some new shampoo and conditioner. Lemon-scented shampoo and conditioner. The same as my shampoo and conditioner. He bought it for me.

I was so fucked with this man.
I was still angry about what he had said but at the same time, I was practically falling head-over-heels in love with him.

Shit.

Nope. I'm not in love with him.
No way. Cannot be. I hate him. I told him that I hate him just two nights ago.

I. Am. Not. In. Love. With. James. Buchannan. Fucking. Barnes.

I raked my hands through my soaked hair and walked over to his dresser, pulling on some of his boxers, sweatpants, and another shirt to add to my collection back in my bedroom.

But just as I was about to close the drawer, I spotted something. More than just one thing, a couple of things actually.

Notebooks.

Maybe fifteen or twenty notebooks were littering the back of the draw, each one stained and dog-eared. I scanned the room before opening one.

I know I shouldn't have, but the intense curiosity building in my chest wouldn't go away until I flicked through the book. Noticing the scribbled-out words, the doodles, and the occasional missing page. 

The pages were filled with descriptions of memories and things to do, one read: 
Little Steve threw up at Coney Island, take big Steve back and see if he pukes again.
Watch "Diehard"
And another said:
Becca used to draw me pictures of squirrels.

After that, I stopped and closed the book. These were all things he didn't want to forget. Things he couldn't  forget. It felt wrong to keep reading the books, It felt like I was scrolling through his memories and it felt...wrong.

I went to put the notebook back when a different one caught my eye. This one was different from the others in just one way. It looked almost identical in that it was the same size, same color, and same raised texture on the black cover, but this one looked pristine. I thought it was brand new until I opened it up to see pages and pages of writing.

The first couple of pages had me smiling and giggling a little, it looked like Bucky had been keeping tabs on me to irritate me.

Get her a hot drink while she's around people, it'll fuck with her head because she hates hot drinks but won't want to seem rude.

She always forgets where she puts things so take her crap and put it in really obvious places to make her think that she's going mad.

Some of his notes had strikethroughs and annotations, one even said: "Don't attempt again if you want to live" but after skipping a couple of pages through the book the notes started to become sweeter and my heart began to melt.

Hates the sound of fireworks, loves how they look.
Salted Caramel milkshakes are her favorite.
Looks gorgeous in green red blue anything.

Mumbles in her sleep.
Eats the last of the cookie dough ice cream every time we get it.
Drinks orange juice after workouts.

Most ticklish at the side of her stomach.
Always smells like lemons.
Only takes her hair out when she feels tired or pretty (but she's always pretty).

...

He didn't want to forget this. He didn't want to forget me. 

A bittersweet pang ran through my heart, he was still worried that one day he would forget everything, but he valued me as important enough to try and remember me.

Fuck.
Forget what I said earlier, I'm falling in love.

(883 Words)

A/n:
Hi Guys,
Sorry I haven't been updating regularly, I've got a bit of shit going on atm but I'll try to get back to it ASAP. I'm not scrapping the story or anything, I just sometimes need to take a break so that I don't burn out.

Thank you so much for your comments, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! I'll update again soon.

P.S.
Thank you for over 20K reads! That's actually fucking insane <3