High School Reunion (Bucky x Reader)
You carry a basket of flower petals in one hand while holding strings of balloon centerpieces in the other hand. Running around the hall, you place balloons on tables, followed by spreading rose petals on the red carpet leading the guests inside. Finally, with an hour to spare, you and your team have successfully transformed the once empty room into a grand party space, perfect for a high school reunion.
“Y/N! It looks amazing!” Wanda, your assistant, shouts, “Everyone is going to love it!”
“They better! Do you know how many requests they asked for? Alternating pink, blue and purple fairy lights around the perimeter of the ceiling, a photo booth with hand-crafted paper flowers as the backdrop, large silver-glittered foam letters hanging from the stage frame, and one hundred LED candles to light up the pathway,” you complain.
“That doesn’t sound so ba…” Wanda starts before being cut off.
“That wasn’t even the half of it. Don’t even get me started on music and food,” you sigh.
“Wow,” Wanda breathes, realizing the extent of your work. “Well, at least you’re done for now, and besides, they’re your old high school friends. I’m sure it can’t be that bad, right?”
You think about high school and your experiences with your class. It could have been worse. You just nod your head and murmur a small ‘yes’. Suddenly, Wanda gasps looking at the clock on the wall.
“You should hurry! You have less than an hour to get ready, and judging from the stories you’ve told me, the chosen emcees are going to be here any minute,” she panics.
“You’re right. Could you please ask the rest of the team to check that everything is prepared outside and tell the food and waiting staff to prepare. The appetizers and drinks should be ready to go as soon as the first guest arrives,” you order.
As she leaves, you do a quick scan of the room, checking that everything is in place. You’re about to get dressed for the event when you notice a balloon missing from its centerpiece.
“Really?” You sigh. A balloon that escaped from one of the centerpieces, was now on the ceiling where it wasn’t supposed to be. You take off your shoes and climb up on one of the chairs, trying to reach up for the string. You almost have it and are so close to getting it, when you lose your balance, causing the chair to tilt and fall. You scream, waiting to feel the hard surface of the floor against your face, but instead, you feel a pair of arms supporting you under your legs and on your back. You open your eyes to see the person who saved your life, but instead of feeling relief, you wish you had fallen instead.
“Ha-ha. Well aren’t you still as clumsy as I remember,” he snickers, his strong arms still holding you up.
“What are you doing here?” You question, his steel-blue eyes piercing into you, bringing back memories you never wanted to revisit.
“Wow… Am I in the right place? I thought I was going to my high school reunion, not your wedding reception,” Steve says, holding back his laughter.
You immediately wriggle out of your rescuer’s hold. “Yes, you’re in the right place, and no, that will never happen,” you say sternly.
“So, what did I just walk in on? Is that how we’re all greeting old friends now?” he asks, “Cause, I could get used to that as long as I’m the one being carried.”
“No! He just happened to be there after I fell. Anyway…” You say, quickly trying to change the subject, “Speaking of greetings, I need to talk to you about your part in the program.” You grab his arm and walk out into the foyer.
“You’re welcome, by the way!” Bucky calls out after you.
“What is he doing here?” You ask as soon as you’re out of earshot. “If it wasn’t clear enough on the off-white, gold-lettered, size fourteen and a half, Apple Chancery font invitation, this is the high school reunion of the people who graduated from our high school.”
“Yikes, Natasha’s really pissed you off with all her demands, hasn’t she?” Steve queries.
You stare him dead straight in the eyes, nose flared, fingers digging into your palms.
He catches on quickly after seeing your expression, “I’m sorry, okay. I was allowed to bring a plus one, and Buck’s my best friend. I’m sure people will still remember him. See, like how you still do.”
You calm down slightly, but your head feels like it’s ready to burst, “Fine. Whatever. It’s not like I can do anything anymore. He’s already here.”
“Take a breather, okay Y/NN? Everything’s going to be fine,” Steve assures you. “Now, go get dressed because I don’t think you want any more people seeing you in sweats.”
‘Easy for you to say, you don’t know the whole story,’ you think and just sigh. He pushes you off towards the private dressing room that’s off-limits to everyone else, and sit down to get your make up and hair done by Wanda.
As she straightens your hair, you notice her conflicted facial expressions in the mirror.
“Wanda, you’re very bad at hiding your feelings. What’s wrong?” you ask, giving her an encouraging smile.
“Sorry, it’s just that I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Steve. If it’s ok with you, I was wondering what happened between you and his best friend,” she admits, biting down on her lip.
You laugh at her timidness. “Is that what you’ve been worried about? I guess you’ve gotten the right to know after being my assistant all these years,” you say, making yourself comfortable for a long story.
“Well, it started when we were in our second year of high school, he was the new kid and he was joining my drama class. All the girls were squealing and blushing when he passed them by. It was like a scene out of a movie. Me being shy and awkward led me to try and avoid him in case I accidentally told him how I felt, but that plan went out the window because he turned out to be Steve’s old childhood best friend. So that complicated things a bit because Steve was my closest guy friend at the time. Actually, I’d say he still is. Eventually, because he would hang out with our group, we became really close, but he had no idea I had a huge crush on him. At the time I only told one person about it. Then suddenly, one day, he changed. He became really nice and he would always hug me. He always wanted to hang around me and talk to me, and he would act like we were dating or something. My friend who knew about my crush on him, after a lot of convincing and begging, got me to tell him how I felt. This was based on how he had been acting of recent, but I never told him.”
“What! Why?” Wanda exclaims, pulling your hair in the process. You yelp in pain.
“Sorry,” she apologizes, fanning and putting pressure on the area she pulled. “What happened next? Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him, because he didn’t like me,” You sigh. “It turns out he was being extra nice and clingy to me so that I’d help him court this girl in my English class. It’s not like he knew how I was feeling, so I helped him. They got together the next year and he stopped hanging out with my group. We ran in different circles and I only found out he was leaving a few years later after everyone left for winter break. The last I heard of him; he and Steve were thinking about joining the army.”
You hear sobs and sniffles and look up to see Wanda in tears. “Hey… It’s okay. I’m fine and that was years ago. You don’t have to cry about it.”
“But… It’s… So… SAD!” she wails, grabbing a tissue from the table.
You stand up and give her a hug, patting her back, hoping it’ll help her calm down.
“I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing, I’m crying in front of my boss,” she says, barely audible. “You should go change into your dress. Please. I’ll have stopped when you come back.”
You let her be as you go into one of the stalls to change into your cocktail dress for the party. When you come back outside, she’s stopped and is in the middle of putting her makeup and hair accessories and tools away, when she sees you.
“I know I said I wouldn’t be crying anymore, but you look so beautiful!” she cries, grabbing more tissues.
“Why are you so emotional? You’ve seen me in a party dress before,” you say.
“Not after hearing that story, I haven’t,” she mumbles through her tears. “God, I have to pull myself together when I get out there.” She takes a deep breath and flaps her hands in front of her face.
You hand her a bottle of water and rub her back. “I have to go greet the people outside and make sure everything is running smoothly. Are you going to be okay here?” You ask, struggling to decide between going and staying to look after Wanda.
“No, you should go. I’ll be fine,” she says, waving me off to join the others.
You walk out of the dressing room and there are, what seems to be, just over sixty people who have arrived. You smile and small talk your way around the room until you finally end up seeing a familiar friendly face.
“Y/N!” she excitedly squeals, “You look amazing!”
“Thanks, Y/F/N. You look awesome too!” you say, getting your phone ready for a photo.
“While we are on the subject of being amazed. I was very amazed to see a certain someone here,” she says, her cheeks full and pink from holding her smile.
You roll your eyes at the mention of him. “Steve brought him as his plus one. But it’s fine, I’ll just avoid him until the party’s over. A few hours in the same venue won’t kill me,” you shrug.
“Okay, good luck with that,” she scoffs.
You spend the rest of the night half getting back in touch with past classmates, while also making sure the program and all the props are where they’re needed to be until finally, there’s only you and a handful of others left.
“How are they still standing and taking photos?” Y/F/N drones, looking up from the back of a seat she lays her head upon.
“No pain, no gain,” you reply, finally able to take off your heels.
While you focus on removing the straps from your heels, you don’t hear Bucky sneak up on you into the seat in front of yours. You lift your head quickly before all the blood rushes to your head and are met with dazzling blue eyes and a smirk.
“Hey, Y/NN. I didn’t even get to talk to you during the party,” Bucky says, almost disappointedly.
“I was busy,” you reply, “and don’t call me that.” You notice the photo-taking group has finally left and you can clear the hall. You get up with heels in your left hand, about to pick up one of the balloon centerpieces, when something small and hard hits the back of your head.
“Ow!” You turn around and see Bucky holding a bunch of tea lights as he throws another one at you.
“What are you doing!?”
“At least I’ve finally gotten your attention. If this is the only way how I’ll keep doing it,” he says, throwing another one.
“You’re being such a kid!” You retaliate, storming off.
“I’m still talking to you!” He shouts, following your steps.
You duck, feeling another light coming your way, but you wish you hadn’t when the following happens. Instead of hitting your back, the light hits the mirror in the foyer causing thousands of shards to fly and shatter on the midnight blue carpet.
“Look what you did now!” You yell, half furious half terrified of what the venue managers would say if they saw this now.
“What I did? You’re the one who ducked! It’s your fault!” He shouts back at you.
“But this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t such a kid!” You retaliate.
“I’m the kid? Who’s the one that keeps avoiding me instead of just talking to me about whatever it is that’s wrong?” He asks.
“Enough!” Steve yells, “Both of you are acting like children! Lucky for you I know a guy who I think can help us with this mirror incident. So, both of you are going to go to his repair shop and on the way, you better make up for whatever it is you two are fighting about.”
You both start arguing against the idea of going to the repair shop together, but Steve’s word is final, and he sends you both on your way with the broken mirror in the boot of your car. The trip is a forty-five-minute drive away, but half of the way there, the car is filled with silence and tension.
“Are you ever going to talk to me?” He asks.
You stay silent and focus on driving. The pouring rain setting the gloomy and unfortunate situation you’re stuck in.
“So, this is how it ends? You’re giving me the silent treatment? And you call me the child,” he scoffs, putting his leg up on the dashboard.
“Will you get your feet off,” you hiss, your eyes taking a moment to look away from the road to bat his leg down.
“I will if you just tell me what’s wrong!” he says.
“I don’t have time for you and your stupid demands. Just take your feet off the dashboard!” you answer, still trying to push them off yourself.
“Why can’t you tell me? What did I do that was so bad? Why can’t you look me in the eye when I talk to you? What’s your deal with me? It’s not my fault this is happening, and you know it!” he persists.
“JUST STOP! IF I DON’T WANT TO ANSWER THEN STOP FORCING ME TO TELL YOU!” you shout, the speed you’re driving, increasing.
There’s a moment’s silence as he’s taken aback.
“Fine, but crazy woman, we might hit something if you’re not careful, so could you please slow down?” he asks, in a gentler tone.
“We’re not going to-” you start, turning to look at him when unexpectedly, a loud crash grabs your attention. A large tree branch has fallen onto the road, causing you to turn. You lose control of the car, swerving sideways. Both of you are screaming, and you close your eyes, hoping the spinning will stop, when it does. You open your eyes, your hands pale, still gripped on the steering wheel, frozen. If it wasn’t for the deep breathing beside you, you probably would have stayed like that the whole night.
“Are you ok?” he asks.
You barely nod, finally taking in your surroundings outside of the vehicle. Your car has skidded off the main road, ending up at the fence of an old car parts yard.
“Maybe I should…”
“Shh!” You hiss, “Please, just not now.”
He willingly abides as you try to start the car again, but with no luck.
“Great. This has just been the best day, ever!” You shout into the air.
“I think I saw a hotel back there. Hopefully, they’ll be able to help us,” Bucky says quickly before you can silence him again.
You realize there’s no point in fighting him on it, so you get out of the car, lock the doors and head back in the pouring rain, still wearing your long cocktail dress.
By the time you reach the hotel, you’re both soaking wet from head to toe, freezing from the icy rain. The staff at the front desk offer you towels and warm tea.
“Could we please get two of your cheapest rooms for one night?” Bucky requests.
“Our cheapest rooms are both Superior Rooms, valued at $780,” the receptionist tells us.
“I’m sorry, and that’s only for one night?” You query, your mouth going dry hearing the price of the room.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry to say they are the only rooms available on such short notice.”
“You know what, we’ll just share one room,” you say, just overall exhausted.
“Great. We’ll prepare your room and it’ll be ready for you shortly. While you wait, you are welcome to stay in the bar,” the receptionist says, pointing towards their drinking facilities.
You take a seat on a stool, ordering a mojito. Barely anyone is there, and the soft jazz music helps in putting you in a better mood.
Two drinks in, is when you notice that Bucky is sitting in the opposite corner of the room to you, his tie loosened, hair pushed back. Despite what happened all those years ago, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. You take your drink and shuffle over to where he’s sitting.
“I don’t know if it’s the drinks or not, but I should apologize for the way I’ve been acting tonight and know that your efforts have definitely not gone unnoticed,” you say.
He sighs in relief, “It’s like I’m talking to the same Y/N from high school, again. I just wish I knew what it was that I did that made you so upset with me.”
It’s your turn to sigh as you tell him the story. “I’m going to need more drinks to get through this story.” Going through the details, you consume another two drinks. “… And I know that was years ago, but every time I think about you or see you, it just reminds me of that.”
Before he can react, an attendant comes over to say that your room is ready.
You sort out the details of your stay and finally get your room key. As soon as you get to your room, the first thing you see is the ginormous king-sized bed in the center of the room, but instead of worrying about it, you opt to sit in one of the lounge chairs, tired and hungry and sticky from the rain.
“Y/N…”
“Haven’t we been through enough today? Want to just order some pizza?” you say, not really in the mood to hear what he has to say, partly because the liquor has gotten to your head, not making you a suitable conversationalist at that moment.
You order pizza, and clean up, using new bathrobes and complimentary pajamas from the hotel, while waiting. The pizza comes, and you chow down half of its entirety, before passing out on the bed. You dream of Bucky, and what he was like before all the awkwardness.
He’s leaning in to kiss you when you abruptly wake up. The sound of shuffling on the floor brings you back to reality.
“Good morning,” he greets cheerily, “I got us room service for breakfast.”
“Why didn’t you wake me? Now we have to pay extra for the room service,” you say.
“Don’t worry, this is on me,” he smiles, “And besides, I didn’t want to wake you considering what a busy day you had yesterday, I figured you needed the rest. Speaking of rest, I hope you still got a good night’s sleep with one less pillow there on the bed. I didn’t want to disturb you after you fell asleep, so I just borrowed a pillow and slept on the ground. Also, I called Steve and told him what happened. He said he’s settled everything with the event managers, so as long as we can fix or replace the mirror, everything’s fine.”
“Bucky…” you say, holding his arm, “You need to calm down and breathe. I feel like you said all that in one breath.”
“Sorry,” he laughs.
“Look, I don’t know if you’re doing this out of pity because of what I told you last night, but you don’t have to be so nice to me. I mean, room service, letting me sleep in, which we’ll have to pay extra for as well, because of late checkout, and plus sleeping on the ground? This bed is huge. You could have slept up here and there would still be lots of room to spare. I know you want to talk to me about what you think of my story, but if it’s rejection, I can handle it. You don’t have to go out of your way to cushion the blow.”
“What? No! No, no, no, no, no. You’ve got it mixed up,” he says. He takes a seat on the bed beside you, holding your hands. “Y/N, I know we were still in high school then, but I just should have been honest with you. I was a jerk. I really was doing all of those things for you, hoping to ask you out, but on the day, I tried to ask you, I got scared and asked about Carol instead. I actually asked Carol to help me court you, but I guess because you thought I was into her, you didn’t budge. Then everything became complicated when Steve said he was starting to like you.”
“Steve? Steve Rogers? You mean your best friend? My guy best friend, Steve? That Steve?” you ask, unable to process this new information.
“Ha-ha, yeah. That Steve. I didn’t want to see him trying to court you just in case you said yes, so I started hanging out with Carol’s group,” he explains.
“But didn’t you guys date? I mean, I saw you with your arms around her shoulder all the time,” you respond.
“Like the way I used to with you?” He says.
You take a brief moment to think about it, and you realize that he was like that with every girl. “So, you guys didn’t date.”
“Rumours got around that we were, but we were just really close friends. On the day I left was when Steve decided to tell me that he wasn’t going to try and court you anymore. You know Steve, he’s never understood women. Heck, the last girl he liked, told him he had no idea how to talk to a woman. So, he was scared to try just in case it ruined the friendship. By the time I found out, I was already on the plane,” he finishes, looking down at your hands still in his. “I wish I had just told you. I wish I wasn’t such a coward. You really are important to me, and knowing that I hurt you like that…”
His eyes turn glossy. His usual strong, scowling features, softened. You let go of his hands and hug him. You feel his arms wrap around your back, making you realize just how much you’ve missed him after all these years.
“Hey, I forgive you,” you say, “And besides, we have a lot of time to catch up.”
You get up from the bed to start getting ready, but he holds you back.
“I know we haven’t caught up in a while, but I missed the opportunity once, and I don’t want to do it again. Y/N, I like you and I hope that one day you’ll say yes when I ask you out, officially,” he says, leaning in, kissing you on the forehead. “And if you don’t say yes, I’ll just keep asking and asking, or I’ll throw tea lights at you until you do.”
You end up spending the rest of the day together, falling for each other, all over again.