Hey! From that huge au list that you said you were accepting prompts on, could you possibly do stucky, the "I hit you with my car and I'm the only one who visited at the hospital, you okay?" with steve being the one hit by the car? It's a sick day for me and it feels like I've exhausted all good fanfiction... you're my only hope!
“Which flower arrangement says ‘I’m very sorry for running you over in my car’?” Bucky asks into his phone, frantically looking between an arrangement with tulips and an orchid.
There’s a long pause, then Natasha asks very level, very calm, “James?”
“What did you do?” she asks in that same, calm voice.
“I RAN SOMEONE OVER WITH MY CAR,” Bucky yells. “I JUST SAID THAT.”
“Excuse me sir,” says the little old woman shopping next to him.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for yelling,” Bucky says. “I’ll be quiet.”
“No, no, dear, that’s not the issue,” she says.
“Oh, then am I in your way?” he asks.
“No, it’s just that I’m about to leave the store, and drive home. I’m hoping that you’ll give me a few minutes’ head start before you leave, too.”
He nods and smiles at the old lady, then goes back to his phone. “I wish I were dead,” he says, still smiling.
“Daffodils are nice,” Natasha says.
It’s probably presumptuous to go visit the guy you hit with your cat in the hospital and Bucky’s pretty sure that if his insurance company knew about Bucky going over there they’d be pissed, but you can’t just run someone over with your car and not visit them in the hospital. That’d just be bad form.
Bad form like not stopping all the way at a stop sign and grazing the pedestrian who is crossing the street.
He knocks on the door. “Uh, hi,” he says, looking at the guy laying in bed.
The guy sits up a little, then winces. “Hi,” he says. “You lost?”
“No, at least… I don’t think so. You’re Steve Rogers?” The guy nods. “Okay, well, I’m Bucky Barnes and I maybe sort of hit you with my car,” he says, hiding behind the bouquet of daffodils a little. He peeks out from behind it. “Sorry about that,” he adds.
The guy snorts. “Believe it or not, it’s not the first time I’ve been hit by a car,” he says, “and you just tapped me.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even be in here if it weren’t for my pre-existing conditions.” He perks up a little. “Are those for me?” he asks, looking at the flowers.
“Yeah,” Bucky says, walking forward towards the bed and holding the flowers out to Steve. “They are! They’re… daffodils.”
“I’m horribly allergic,” Steve says, grinning. “Gimme.”
“Already in the hospital,” Steve says, taking the flowers and smelling them. The yellow looks nice with his soft blond hair and it’s kind of cute when his thick black frame glasses slip down his nose while he sniffs. “Wow! These are great.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Bucky says, trying not to blush because the guy he ran over with his car is really stinking cute.
“Thanks for coming,” Steve says.
“Oh, uh,” Bucky says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It was the least I could do.”
“I’m I the hospital so much that my friends don’t even notice at this point, so it’s nice to have some company.” He’s still holding the flowers, and looks down at them again like he can’t believe he really has them, and Bucky wonders why his friends wouldn’t come visit him in the hospital when he is obviously the most adorable dork in all of New York City. He looks back up at Bucky. “You want some pudding?” he asks. “I have some extra.”
Two years later and Steve feeds Bucky a spoonful of pudding. “Yum,” Bucky says, smacking his lips together.
“I can’t believe you convinced the caterers to serve pudding,” Steve says, grinning.
“You know how some couples have special songs or places?” Bucky asks.
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says.
“Well, our dessert is pudding,” he says.
Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you,” Steve says.
“And I still can’t believe that you agreed to marry some guy who ran you over with his car,” Bucky says.
Steve shrugs. “You didn’t have enough money to be worth suing,” he says. “And,” he adds, “you only grazed me.”
Bucky grins, leans in and kisses his new husband.
“And you grazed me with your love,” he says. “Same thing.”
“Not at all!” Steve squeaks and Bucky laughs and around them their friends and family dance awkwardly to a mediocre DJ and they’re husbands now, and Bucky will never, ever, run over anyone else for the rest of his life.