Fairytale of New York - Professor Bucky x Reader

Five

Y/N

It was late when you woke the next morning, the late morning sun seeping through the crack between your curtains bringing you back to the real world and away from the world of dreams. You didn't open your eyes at first, instead relishing in the warmth of your bed for a moment longer. A heavy arm was slung over your waist, a scruffy jaw nudging into your neck gently, and you couldn't help but smile. The warmth that he provided, the comfort and feeling of safety, was something that you never wanted to let go of again, and if it were possible you would stay there forever in that bed with him, and you'd be perfectly content with that.

You stayed like that for a while, snuggling back into his frame, a sleepy smile pulling at your lips. But when he began to stir, you rolled over to face him, your eyes finally fluttering open to glance up at him. He was still fast asleep, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his lips parted ever so slightly. He looked so different like this, you always thought, that moment in the morning before he woke up and was forced to put his teacher persona back on. These were the moments that you enjoyed the most, the moments that you would replay in your head, just the two of you together, completely at peace with each other.

The smell of coffee was what finally pulled you away from his warm embrace. You shuffled back, but his arm held you tight, pulling you back into his chest.

"Don't go," he mumbled, causing you to chuckle.

"I need coffee," you replied into his chest, and after planting a gentle kiss on your hairline, which you reciprocated by pecking at his chest, he finally let you go. You rolled from the bed, grabbing the shirt that Bucky had been wearing the night before and throwing it on before slipping from the room and into the kitchen.

Wanda was already in the kitchen brewing coffee, humming along to the radio as it played Taylor Swift, a favourite of hers you had noticed over the time you'd lived with her. She turned as you approached and leaned on the counter, throwing you a smirk as she poured herself a cup of coffee, and one for you as well, handing you the mug.

"There's a boy in your room," she said, her smirk never dissipating despite not looking up at you as she added a teaspoon of sugar to her coffee and stirred it.

You could feel the blush rising on your cheeks, but you simply shrugged. "There is."

"Is this the boy you were talking about?" She asked, finally looking up at you as she leaned against the counter beside you, taking a sip of her coffee from the mug that she held tightly with two hands as if she was scared that if she let go it would disappear.

"Oh, it is," another voice sounded from behind you as Yelena dragged herself into the kitchen to join you. Her voice was groggy, and based on the way that she rubbed her eyes she too had just woken up. Wanda rushed to pour her a coffee which she gladly took, taking a big sip before glancing over to you. "He stayed the night."

"Oh, that's great!" Wanda beamed. "Does that mean that it's something serious?"

You grimaced at the word. Serious. You didn't really know what you and Bucky were, or where whatever it was that you had together was going. Certainly there was only the smallest of chances of anything more than simply hooking up, but you couldn't deny the connection that you felt to him. The way that the two of you had been the night before, more intimate than ever, linked for better or for worse. But serious? You didn't think that was the right word to describe what you were. Even if it weren't against the university guidelines, you weren't certain that Bucky would be interested in an actual relationship with you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you had the chance to say anything the door to your bedroom opened and Bucky made his way out, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. You noticed that he'd foregone a shirt, his delicate muscles on full display, flexing under his skin as he moved. He'd clearly gone rooting for something to wear, an old pair of grey sweatpants that you'd stolen from your ex hanging low on his hips.