Fiery Hatred || Bucky Barnes x OC

secrets and lies

For the next few days Harley spent every waking minute with Bucky. He called off work so he could be with her, even after she'd taken the dogs back to her dads. They lived like a real couple, in their own little bubble. 

By the end of it he was happy that they were going public, for lack of a better word. He wanted to show her off, let people know she was his. And that he was hers. 

On the Saturday morning, well more like afternoon, he woke up and was dying to see her all dressed up, with his arm hooked around her waist. 

Bucky rolled over in his bed to see her lay softly snoring, her hair plastered across her face and a little drool dribbling from the corner of her slightly open mouth. He tucked the strand of hair behind her ears and away from her face.

She was fucking celestial. Like a goddess sent from the heavens. He placed a kiss on her forehead slowly getting out of the bed.

Harley stumbled out of bed no less than five minutes later. It was as if she could tell that he wasn't there in her sleep. She wandered down the stairs rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Elvis was already humming through the ceiling speakers and she could smell the coffee radiating from the kitchen. He was part of their morning ritual, whoever was the first awake would turn on his number one hits and make coffee. They'd dance to it in the kitchen, which Harley thought was way too cheesy, but it grew on her.

She was in such a sleepy daze she didn't even notice the mountain of boutique bags piled on the breakfast bar. She almost jumped at the sight of them when she turned around from pouring her coffee. 

"Bucky?" She called. "Where are you?"

There was a muffled call from the other lounge and Harley wandered through. He was sat, shirtless as usual sipping on an espresso and staring off into space. 

Harley nestled in beside him, lifting his arm to wrap it around her neck. "Good morning." She smiled, gazing up at him, tracing a finger across his tattoos. "What are all those bags out there?"

"They're for you." He said, stone faced as he continued to stare out the window. "A gift for tonight."

"What is it?" She hated when he bought her gifts. The most she ever let him buy her was random groceries (mainly just cereal).

He sighed taking her hand and pulling her back through to the kitchen. He sat himself at one of the stools and nodded his head, gesturing for her to open them. She hesitantly took the first bag, it was shiny and black with white tissue paper concealing its contents. 

She reached her hand inside, pulling out something heavy and holding it high to make out what it was. A black velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline. It was beautiful and obviously a couple thousand dollars.

"Bucky, I- what?" She stuttered frowning at him. 

"Just keep fucking opening them." He grumbled, hiding a smirk.

She let out a shaky breath, placing the dress down on the counter gently. She moved onto the next bag which was slightly smaller and produced a pair of black velvet gloves, matching the dress. "Bucky this is too much." 

"We're not done yet dollface, keep going." He smiled. 

Harley pulled at the final bag which contained two small black boxes. She looked at him dubiously before flicking the first boxes lid open to reveal a sparkling pearl bracelet.

"No fucking way Bucky. I told you I hate this. This is too much." She whined dropping the box onto the counter and turning away from him. He jumped up racing to her and spinning her around gripping her waist tightly.