Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

*66. BUCKY: Patience

Words: 4.6K

Warnings: SMUT

           

"Okay—you comin' or what?" Bucky leans into the doorway of the bathroom and watches you fix your lipstick with plain annoyance on his face. "You're taking forever."

"Be patient. I was patient when you were late to dinner last night, you can be patient now." You pop the lid back onto your matte red lipstick and throw it into your clutch.

Bucky scoffs, "You were so not patient. You texted me five times every minute until I showed up."

"That's because I waited twenty minutes in the lobby when you said you'd be there at seven, asshole." You roll your eyes back at him.

Bucky pushes off of the doorframe to saunter into the bathroom. He stands behind you in front of the mirror with his metal arm snaking out to hold you by the waist. His flesh hand toys with the bottom of your skirted dress as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You pathetically try to pry him off as you finish putting on your blush.

"I'm sorry I was late. The meeting took too long," your boyfriend mumbles into your neck.

You sigh, smiling even though you don't want to. You wish you could be mad at him—but it's impossible. One look at his floppy haired, blue eyed reflection in the mirror and you melt. "Okay, babe. I'm ready to go."

Bucky perks up. "Finally." He grabs your hand and starts dragging you out of your bathroom. You laugh and follow close behind him. Through your bedroom and towards the door Bucky takes you. He stops only to help you into your coat and to grab his own shoes. You search for your apartment keys in the dish by the sink while Bucky starts patting his pockets—double checking he has the invitation to the elite party tonight put on by Stark. It's for Steve's birthday.

"Have you seen my invite?" Bucky asks.

"Do you really need one? Just flash your arm or something. That should be suitable enough for ID," you reply from the kitchen. Your high heels click as you come back to the door. Bucky's still there searching his pockets.

"Ha-ha." Bucky keeps looking with an irritable grunt. "I know I had it last night..."

"Before or after we fucked?" You fix your curled hair updo in the mirror closest to the coat closet.

Bucky sighs, "I wish you wouldn't say it like that."

"Why?" you laugh and look back at your now flushed-face beau. "Because it turns you on?"

Ignoring your accusation, Bucky mumbles, "It was definitely before. I had it in my coat... and then I took it out so I wouldn't lose it..."

"And ended up losing it anyway. Bucky, seriously, is it that important?"

"It is. It has our parking spot number on it!" Bucky starts walking to your bedroom again.

"Are you sure it's not at your place?" you shout out as he walks away.

"Nah—I had it here!" You hear him rifling around your meticulously clean room, and then, "Ah! I know! I put it in one of the drawers when you started going down..."

You laugh, "That's what you were doing?" You continue to giggle to yourself while your boyfriend is off searching the next room. Double checking yourself in the mirror you decide this is good enough: your little black dress is fitted but comfortable to make up for the lack of coziness in your shoes. The heels make you four inches taller and give great perk to your ass, which Bucky commented on quite quickly.