Fairytale of New York - Professor Bucky x Reader

One

Y/N

"One more beer please," you called over the music leaking out of the jukebox, some ridiculously cheesy 80s tune that you were certain your dad would love if he was there. But he wasn't, you found yourself stuck with the group of girls that you'd met at the mixer the day before, primadonnas in your English class who had insisted on 'taking you out' to celebrate your first night in New York, and of course, your first night at SHIELD.

'SHIELD Institute, a most prestigious university academy for only the brightest of students, founded on the belief that with hard work and dedication, anyone can achieve anything'.

At least, that's what the brochure had said; you would know, you had re-read those words over and over again thousands of times. 'Anyone can achieve anything', that was the part that had really caught your eye. That's all you wanted to achieve; anything. Anything that you set your mind to. But based on your current company it seemed that the only real thing you could achieve at SHIELD Institute was the ability to pair baby pink pumps with any skirt.

As you waited for your beer you peered back over your shoulder to where your new classmates were huddled around Liz's phone, likely overanalyzing the latest text from the boyfriend she'd left back at home, just as they had been all night. It wasn't that they were bad people - they actually seemed quite nice - they just weren't your type of people. Back home, in that tiny town that you'd left only the day before, you'd surrounded yourself with the outcasts, the population of your high school that the likes of Liz likely wouldn't pay any attention to. That's who you were as well; you weren't a Liz, you were a you, quiet and content, preferring the company of books or a blank word document to keep you company on a Saturday night. However, with classes starting the next day it made sense for you to find someone, anyone, to be able to walk into your first lecture with.

All you could hope was that your roommates were a bit more your speed. You hadn't had the chance to meet them yet; you had arrived late the night before, having realised that despite booking on-campus student accommodation, the university had overbooked, and instead you had been sent off-campus, suitcases in hand. The woman at the desk had rather insistently provided you with an address and little else, before essentially pushing you out of the door to fend for yourself in a new city. The apartment itself was old, a townhouse that had been converted into off-campus accommodation. Your room was an adequate size though, and the apartment was large enough, with three shared bathrooms, five bedrooms, a large communal room and a clean and equipped kitchen, and really that was all you could ask for. Everyone else had been asleep when you'd arrived, and whilst you had heard them coming and going through your bedroom door all day, you'd chosen instead to attend the English student mixer in the hopes of finding a friend or two with similar interests.

Hopes dashed you supposed.

Finally, the bartender slid your beer over to you, and with a quick 'thanks' you handed him the money and told him to keep the change. The beer was cold in your hand as you turned to lean against the bar, watching the girls on the far table fuss over Liz's boyfriend as you took a long swig of your drink.

"Let me guess," a smooth voice sounded from beside you. Blinking slowly, you turned with a frown to find a man slightly further down the bar looking in your direction. He was older, that much you were certain about, with a slight stubble on his jaw, and hints of grey strands streaking through his dark locks. You guessed that he was in his mid-thirties to early forties, although you had never been good at guessing people's ages, a lack of skill that your dad had often teased you about, ever since you had taken a wild guess that his work colleague was nearing fifty when she was in fact only thirty-seven. The man looked at you over the top of his glasses, his eyebrows raised slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips. He twirled the liquid in his glass around carefully, but his eyes were trained on you, a shining blue even in the dim lighting of the dank bar. "Work outing?"