Inspired By Taylor Swift Series

Gorgeous (Part 2) (Marvel)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Bucky POV

It had already been a long night. A terrible, dreadful night.

Not only because you looked gorgeous, done up for the evening with a red lip and little black dress that he's certain he's never been lucky enough to see before. It was the kind of gorgeous that was out of Bucky's league and completely unattainable.

But also because from the moment he walked in and saw you consistently surrounded with all kinds of people, both people he knew and some only distantly familiar, he knew that it was going to be that kind of night, a night filled with silent, one-sided pining, looking but always from afar. A rough night.

You should really think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.

He wasn't used to being drunk anymore. But tonight, courtesy of the weird Asgardian liquor he kept drinking, Drunk Bucky was resurrected. And now his head was fuzzy, swimming with the Asgardian mead he couldn't stop drinking.

So he watched.

He let the bartender flirt with him, not shutting it down like he normally would. He'd engaged in pleasant, if not a little excessively long, conversations all night, all the while barely acknowledging you.

Sam.

Steve.

Natasha.

Even Wanda.

But you should really take it as a compliment that he's talking to everyone here but you.

Still, he kept an eye on you. His eyes flickering to you all the way at the other end of the bar. He knew he could probably just go over there, sit in the empty bar stool that he'd coveted all night, but he was drunk and Drunk Bucky was apparently a little immature.

Wasn't alcohol supposed to be liquid courage?

Evidently not.

Because he watched. And that's all he did. He watched, gritted his teeth and felt the hatred and fury simmer beneath his skin.

He watched the endless rotary of people that approached you. Random Compound employees make passes at you. Or the really bold ones that touched your back while flagging down the bartender and offered to buy you drinks.

He also watched the first whiskey on ice.

Then the second.

And the third.

And fourth.

He sees you flag down the bartender for your fifth, and that's when he decides enough is enough.

He stumbles out of his seat. He actually stumbles. And that's probably the first real sign that he's definitely not sober anymore and he should just call it a night. Still, he determinedly trudges over to the other end of the bar.

"Hey, maybe we've had enough for tonight?" he suddenly interrupts, pulling the drink you're about to down away from you.

"Maybe we've had enough for tonight?" you repeat. Are you mocking him? It certainly sounds like it. Your slurred words and poor imitation do nothing to change his mind: you've definitely had enough for tonight. You turn away from Bucky, ignoring the fact that he just stole your drink and simply order another one. "Can I get another whiskey on ice?"

"I think she's good," Bucky insists, his scowl deepening at the bartender.

He almost lets a chuckle slip when the bartender frightfully nods and scurries away.