Car Park Confessions.
A/n: This is actually the first thing I wrote back in February when I
decided to stop just imagining scenarios in my head and put them
down on paper, and it was the first thing I wrote since school
about eight years ago.
Proof read by way of a text-speech device.
Summary: Clichéd af but I think sometimes thats what you need! It’s a sort of au where Bucky is a celebrity for some reason, maybe a singer, or an actor like Sebastian, but it doesn’t really matter. Established friendship…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)
Word count: 3129
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, some angst and crying, but it’s all right in the end!
Three am. Too early and too late. The street lights burn your eyes as you lean on a traffic bollard outside the club, tuning out as your friends attempt to find a cab willing to take a trio of somewhat drunk party-goers with very little money. Cold hands to your cheeks startle you, and you find yourself staring into Wanda’s face.
You nod in answer, smiling softly. The chilly air is getting to you, and you stand up, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shiver. She pulls you into a hug, resting her chin on your head, and rubbing her hands up and down your back. Another set of arms encircle the two of you, warming you considerably.
“Y/N, do you mind giving me your phone?” Natasha asks you, and you pass it over without question. “Also, there’s a bench just along here and I think we could all do with a sit down, come on.”
There’s some good natured complaining about how cold the metal seat is, but once you’re sat with your legs over Wanda’s and her head on your shoulder, you’re suddenly very tired.
“Don’t let me fall asleep,” you mumble at the equally exhausted pile of limbs you’re twisted up with.
A car pulling up in front of your new ‘bed’ has you jolting back awake. You’re alone on the bench, your two friends currently standing beside it talking with the driver of a very nice Audi that has you frowning as you try to place it. You sit and raise a hand to your hair in an attempt to smooth it down, before repositioning your top that has ride up your body a little too much, the exhausted sound you let out attracting attention.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Natasha grins, pulling open the side door of the car idling next to you. “Time to go home Sleeping Beauty”.
Eager to get out of the cold, and hearing your bed calling, you stumble up and slip ungracefully into the passenger seat. You reach for your seat belt and click it in place before turning to the driver and freezing.