Please

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Summary: Your enemy admits that he loves you when he's drunk, but you can't bring yourself to admit your feelings for him.
Word count: 2.1k
A/n: Listening to cherry by Lana Del Rey and I wanna be yours by Arctic Monkeys while proof reading this sent me into orbit.

Bucky stumbles in drunk as he searches the house for you. "Doll!" He shouts as he grabs onto the counter for support. "Doll!" He repeats, but there's still no sign of you. He leans his head back and takes a deep breath as he prepares to shout your name again.

"DoLl!" His voice cracks when he shouts, but he doesn't really notice.

You on the other hand, do notice and start laughing your ass off. Walking out of your room, you find a drunk Bucky, swaying back and forth and smiling when he sees you. "There she is," he says as he walks towards you and you have to catch him so he doesn't eat shit.

"Wow, you're drunk," you say and he shakes his head as he touches your nose with his finger. "Boop," he says with a chuckle.

"Let's get you to bed," you say and head towards your guest room. "How'd you even get in my house?" You mumble, but Bucky hands you a key.

"I have a copy," he says with a laugh and you look at him in shock. "I'll yell at you in the morning," you say as you take the key from him, and he whines.

"Oh no, now you're mad at me," he whines and stops walking so you're practically dragging him.

"Bucky, c'mon, you gotta help me out here," you say as you try to drag him, but it's not working out for you to well.

He turns to face you and holds the sides of your face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, y/n. Please don't be mad at me. I hate when you're mad at me," he softly says as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I get mad at you all the time and then you get mad at me. That's what you do when you hate someone," you say and Bucky shakes his head.

You look at him confused as he keeps mumbling 'no' before he looks you dead in the eye and his grip on your face tightens slightly. "I don't hate you," he says and your confused look only grows.

He whines as he lays his head against your shoulder and nuzzle his face into your neck. "God, you smell so fucking good. You always smell so fucking good. It makes this even harder," he complains.

"Bucky, you're drunk and you're not thinking straight. Lets just get you to bed—"

"Really, cause don't they say 'a drunk man's words are his sober thoughts' or somethin like that," he says as he pulls away from your shoulder. He stares into your eyes and sees you have an uncertain look on your face, like you're not really positive this is happening.

I'm your mind you're thinking Bucky got possessed. He got possessed and whatever this is has compelled him to think he has feelings for you. Because he can't actually have feelings for you. That would be... that would be like rain and fire. One burns greatly for the other only to be put out before it's flames to get too high.

He can't like you. It doesn't work.

"Y/n, I love you. God love you so fucking much," he groans as he leans his forehead against yours. You shake your head and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you.

This is so much worse.

"Let's get you to bed," you say and he shakes his head as he stares deeply in your eyes. "Tell me you feel the same," he begs and your eyes widen. "Please, just tell me that you love me. Don't break my heart even more, doll, you're all I want," his voice starts to break, the alcohol he consumed heightening his emotions even more.

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