Bucky Barnes: Tony Starks daughter

21 - the met gala special: part 1

I woke up in Bucky's bed in his arms, in his bed. It was early, definitely before ten, but I should've already been it of bed a couple hours ago. His body was so warm though. I sighed to my self and got out of bed trying not to wake Bucky up.

I felt a pull on my mechanical hand, I looked behind me seeing he was trying to pull me back in.

"Buck it's Gala day, I need to go," I whined.

"Just five more minutes you're warm," his morning voice cracking slightly.

"I'll see you later, I love you."

He groaned, "don't expect me to say it back."

I chuckled and gave him a long kiss on the lips, the kind you'd see in movies where the two were so madly in love they wouldn't be able to eat or sleep without the other.

"Okay I love you," he said. "There I said it."

I gave a laugh and put one last kiss on his lips before walking over to my walk in wardrobe. I picked out some purple corduroy trousers and a red crop top.

"Good morning dad," I said as I entered the kitchen area, walking over to the toaster to make some toast.

"Oh hey, good morning kiddo," he said looking up from his breakfast, he was having a full English. "So you ready for tonight?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, definitely, what time we off?"

"Well it starts a six so we should go at seven probably," he replied, giving a laugh. My father was definitely one to turn up late to every party even if it was him hosting the event.

"Probably?" I laughed. "Pepper said we have to be there by at the latest six thirty or we'll miss the press."

"You always have to turn up a little late to keep cool," he chuckled.

"Okay," I said still laughing.

The only reason I was organising everything was to keep up with the yearly tradition, I would suit up everyone, arrange dresses and accessories, and then by the time the event came around all I could do was sit at home with whoever didn't go that year. Bucky hardly ever went it was only this year he was going because of me, he said he wanted to able to get pictured next to me when we were both dressed up so he could get a photo for his wall.

Nat and Wanda had helped me with my makeup, doing, something plain obviously, I wasn't one for a full face, just simple black liner and some eye shadow, they even convinced me to do lip liner and lipstick.  The guys — Bucky, Sam, Vision and Steve — had constantly joked behind us, pretending to be beauty gurus from YouTube, cracking the three of us up.

It was really nice being able to act normally around Bucky, now that most of the team knew about us.

It had taken hours and hours of looking through 90s archives to find the perfect dress, I wanted to match my era with Bucky's so we'd look similar. Now it was officially my first year of going to The Met Gala, I had to make a good impression on the press. The dress was from the 90s Chanel archives, a black body con with gold chain detailing across the hips and torso.

"You ready Y/n?" Peter shouted from just outside my wardrobe.

"Yeah one second," I shouted back.

Me and Peter had become pretty good friends over the past few weeks, we had even gone out together at night, even been to the Brooklyn bridge together and watched the city that never sleeps. It was nice to hang out with him as just friends, just watch the stars and joke about what we thought people on the street below us were talking about.