Bucky Barnes x Reader Oneshots/Imagines - Unconditionally

Baby, Just Say Yes

Summary: 40s Bucky Barnes X Reader based on Taylor Swift's Love Story. As usual, I took creative liberties.

*This is kind of an AU based after WWII where Bucky did not fall and Steve did not crash into the ice. This is not accurate to the comic books either.

Request by @QueenZain3 - Sorry it took forever xx

Important A/N: Apparently, Wattpad is deleting the direct messaging feature on May 6th :( So, if you'd like to submit a request you can either post it in the conversations tab on my page or leave a comment on a part after that date.

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...

Half-melted ice cubes clink against the sides of your empty highball glass as you swirl it around gently. Your gin and tonic is long gone, but it would be too much of a bother to fetch another one from your comfortable perch against the balcony.

From here, you can see all of the rich party-goers mingling in the spindly gold ballroom below. Their annoyingly posh voices echo up the grand mahogany staircase and bounce off the huge, crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, making your nose turn up in annoyance.

This is so not your scene and certainly not your people. No, your people were genuine and kind, unlike half of Manhattan's wealthiest investors in your home. If it weren't for your parents, you might've had the chance to enjoy a nice night in your study or snuggled up with a nice book, but nope. Being a Stark meant enduring parties for any and every occasion. This just so happened to be the Starks' biggest night of the year, their annual gala to raise funds for Stark Industries... so, duty calls.

"Come on, Y/N. You can't stay up here all night," Alice pleads from behind you.

"Why not, mom? This isn't my party," you mumble, staring at the ice cubes.

Alice sighs, "This may not be your party, but you're a Stark." She places her hands on her hips, "You need to go make an appearance."

You groan loudly, "Why? I don't want to go mingle with your friends. Aren't we rich enough?" you trail off.

"Y/N," she warns with a motherly tone, making your eyes glance in her direction. "This is a big night for your brother. Now, take your drink and go downstairs. I want to see you mingling."

"But-"

"This isn't a discussion," Alice throws her hands up. "There are plenty of other girls your age here. It wouldn't hurt for you to get some friends more like us."

You roll your eyes dramatically, getting up with a huff and leaving the empty glass on the banister purposely as you shoot her a glare. You walk slowly to the staircase, smoothing out your burgundy evening dress and combing your fingers through the bouncy curls on your shoulders.

If you're going to make an appearance, might as well give them something to look at.

You walk down the stairs gracefully, placing a hand on one of the wide wooden banisters to assist your feet, currently suffocating in the latest Dior pumps. You catch looks from gaggles of sporadically placed cliques, scrutinizing the Starks' notorious daughter as she descends. You wink at a few of the older men, a smile taking over your face as their glares harden. You couldn't care less what they think of you.