Pre War Bucky Barnes One Shots

Bus Buddy

You sit on at a window seat in the middle of the bus and watch the streets whizz by. Turning from buildings and bricks to fields of grass and then back again all in one giant blur. It's a lovely day, the sky is clear, the sun is shining and you can't help but think that your waisting this beautiful weather by sitting on a bus, but you know it'll all be worth it in the end.

There are a few other people on the bus, but not enough to mean that there aren't any completely free seats. However, at the next stop in Brooklyn when the fawny haired, baby blue eyed young man hops on and stands at the top of the steps, scanning the bus for a seat, for some reason he chooses to sit next to you.

Of all the free seats in the whole entire bus he chooses to sit right next to you. Why? It bugs you a little, you just wanted to have a quiet little corner to yourself and your thoughts and he's just come and interrupted it. Although, you would be lying if you said that when you first pulled up at the bus stop and saw him standing there with his duffle bag and waistcoat and cap on that your first thoughts weren't that he was an extremely handsome man.

As he trains his eyes on you and starts to walk towards you you try to act as if you haven't seen him and just continue looking out the window at a little girl in a red coat skipping along the footpath after her mother. But you can't miss the bright, white smile plastering his lips as he sets his bag in the overhead racks and plonks himself down in the seat beside you.

"Hi there," he says confidently, taking off his hat politely and holding out a hand.

You internally groan. It's not even been five seconds and you know that he's a talker.

You turn to him and give a wry smile. You're about to give a flat answer when you realise that he's even more attractive up close.

Plump pale pink lips, smooth, clean shaven, olive skin, slicked back and perfectly styled curls and his eyes really are brilliantly striking. You can't tear your eyes away from him.

"Hi." You sigh, your jaw hanging open slightly with the shock of his beauty.

"I'm James, but you can call me Bucky," he says, breaking into another dazzling smile.

"I don't see how those relate but I'm (Y/N)." You quirk an eyebrow.

He chuckles a little and shakes his head, his eyes crinkling cutely in the corners. "It's confusing I know. Nice to meet you (Y/N). Since I've shared mine, are there any nicknames that I should know about for you since I told you mine?"

"Nope, just regular old (Y/N)." You shrug.

"Well, that's good. It's a nice name. It doesn't need to be shortened," he says sweetly.

You blush and give him a smile. "Thank you," you mumble.

"So, what's got you on this bus on such a splendid day?" he asks.

"Where do I begin." You huff.

"If it's a long story then I don't know about you but I've got plenty of time to listen. About 11 hours to be exact," he urges you, looking at his watch and then watching you curiously.

"Things with my family are a bit rough at the moment. I just got sick of all the fighting and shouting and throwing things that my parents keep doing. It was making me feel so bad all the time so I kind of just up and left," you explain sheepishly.

"Fair enough," Bucky says casually.

He's the first person you've told that hasn't judged you at all.

"Where exactly are you going though?" He frowns.

"That's the thing." You sigh. "I don't know. I figured I'd just sit on the bus until it takes me to somewhere that I like the look of."