Wednesday >> Punk!Bucky Barnes X Reader

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Title: Wednesday

Paring: Punk!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Spoilers: no this is an AU - Modern Day/University

Warnings: amputee!Bucky, Punk Bucky, reader is a dancer. Female reader.

Requested by: anonymous on Tumblr.

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Every Wednesday, without fail, there was a girl who'd run through the conjoined classrooms in E Block. She'd always have her satchel bursting at the seams, and be wearing the same thing. Black leotard with ruched shoulders, tights. Hair falling out of a scrappy bun. Worn out military boots. The only reason Bucky noticed her was she constantly interrupting fourth period advanced physics. At first, he didn't really see her at all, she was just another person. A human on earth, an ant to a boot. Someone he'd forget about come graduation when everyone was not magically hired to companies, and were as broke as ever, just with a diploma. But really, it was Nat who reminded him of this mystery girl, over nips at their favourite bar.

"You think you're so cool pretending not to see _________ when she cuts through the room," The redhead smirked into her beer, and taking a drink, drank her laughter along with the stuff Bucky wasn't that fond of. "I can see straight through you, Barnes."

Nat was the kind of punk who just how scary they were, and owned it. She was a litany of snark and lip piercings and tattoos over the scars of her past. Bucky had trouble picturing her as a little kid with red ponytails – he wasn't sure if it was her harsh undercut, or the way her knuckles were always caught in a cycle of healing, and bruising. He could see her as a child who gave too much lip, and tore her pinafore, and ran off to join the army. That's where he met her, but they'd both been kicked out before any real damage happened. Read: Nat losing her arm too. It had just been a week until return to home soil. He only wore jackets and gloves over the prosthetic, even in summer. It added to the punk aesthetic.

"Who?" He asks. The name doesn't ring a bell, though it is a nice name.

Nat laughs again, but she doesn't elaborate. Instead, she's turning, and has seen someone in the bar, and calls out to them. Usually, Sam and his girls would hang out here, or even Steve in the back with his little sketch book, but when the person Nat is beckoning comes over, Bucky can't think right.

It's her.

"__________! Please, introduce yourself to James. He's an idiot and doesn't have good taste in human beings. Present company included," Nat grins, making her snakebite rings tilt against her painted lips.

At once, _________ puts her hand out toward him. Her hand is the same size as Nat's, but it doesn't have a tattoo of a star, split into shards. But it's then Bucky realises that if that's the hand she's given him, that means...

Nat shakes her head. "See? He can't even call his social life shots." She scoffs, but as she flashes ________ one of her priceless, pseudo-seductress smiles that led many a person into her bed, she also shares a weak look of acquiescence with him, as if to say oh my freaking dog I'm so sorry I forgot.

"Wait, you're James Barnes?" She repeats the name Nat had given. "I've heard so much about you! I'm sort of a friend with Steve. He likes to come and watch us practice." At this, she flags down the bartender, and after she orders something too sweet, too bubbly, and too alcoholic for the meds he's on, adds, "He's always chatty after practice."

Bucky raises a brow. "Practice? Is that where you're always running to?"

________ laughs. He's not sure if he's drunk already, or that it's the nicest laugh he's ever heard, and he's heard a few dozen people in his life time laugh at him. She tilts her head back, her (h/l) (h/c) hair falling everywhere, but it doesn't look messy. It looks like art.

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