Inspired By Taylor Swift Series

Gorgeous (Marvel)

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

"Hey, maybe we've had enough for tonight?" Bucky suddenly interrupts, seemingly appearing out of nowhere to pull the drink you're about to down out of your hand.

"Maybe we've had enough for tonight?" you mock, your slurred words a clear indication that you'd had too much to drink. You're unconcerned with the drink Bucky just stole from you, courtesy of the open bar paid by Tony Stark himself. You turn to the bartender, the one that Bucky hadn't been flirting with all night, "Can I get another whiskey on ice?"

It was your fourth drink. Maybe your fifth. You'd lost count.

The first when Bucky walked into the party, ignoring you entirely. Barely acknowledging you with a tip of his head.

The second when he sat at the other end of the bar. Despite there being an open seat right next to you, he say as far away from you as humanly possible. You downed your drink and pretended like you hadn't saved it for the first hour of the party for him.

The third when, from way across the bar, you saw him getting very friendly with the pretty bartender. You watched him chuckle, lean further into the bar, and freely converse with her the entire night. Or how ever long had passed since he'd made his appearance.

Even surrounded by other people, all laughing and talking to you, no one could hold your attention quite like Bucky could. Even from across the bar, his ocean blue eyes held you captive, enchanting you from the moment he entered your life.

He made you happy, even as a friend, he made you so entirely happy. And then he made you so happy it turned back to sad. Because there was truly nothing you hated more than what you couldn't have.

He radiated a type of cool that was so effortless it was downright infuriating. The leather jacket that he donned more often than not. From his crooked smirk to the way he tossed back the Asgardian mead without so much as a wince. The man was gorgeous. So gorgeous it actually hurt.

And tonight, it makes you hate him so much.

"I think she's good," Bucky insists.

"I think she's good," you imitate, dropping your voice to poorly imitate Bucky's gruff voice. Just with those few words, the bartender leaves. You huff, turning back to Bucky. The asshole looked smug, content even, at getting you cut off for the night. You take the drink back from Bucky, accidentally gazing your hand with his. A strange look flickers across his face, almost like he's upset that you touched him at all. It steels your drunken resolve. "I'm not. Go back to flirting with the bartender."

"Where's your boyfriend?" Bucky pointedly asks, as though to remind you that you have no right to tell him who he can and can't flirt with. Or at least, that's what your inebriated mind is telling you. "He needs to take you home."

"He's over there," you dismiss, waving leisurely waving your hand towards the dance floor. "Doing...I don't know what."

"You want me to get him over here?" Bucky offers, though you can hear a bit of anger in his tone.

You ignore his question entirely, rolling your eyes and spinning in your stool to face him, "And he's not even my boyfriend. We went on a date. Once."

"Good, he's too old for you."

"He's like 45."

He scoffs, sliding into the stool next to you, "Yeah, too old for you."

"Hah," you loudly chuckle, barely noticing the drink you've fought Bucky for almost spilling all over the bar. Because yes, Bucky was way older. Give or take 60 years older, but physically he was younger. You wonder if he thought 106 year old super soldiers were more appropriate for you. "What are you doing here? Go back to flirting. Or ignoring me."

"I'm not ignoring you."

"God," you groan loudly, though not loudly enough for anyone else except Bucky to hear you over the thumping music in the background. "You ruined my life."

And now, those ocean blue eyes were looking right in yours, and it felt like you might sink and drown and die.