Requested for short reader

Bucky had a terribly annoying habit for as long as you had known him; he made use of how much shorter you were than him, and in ways that you definitely didn't find as endearing as he did. The random elbow atop your head as he stood at your side and listening along with you during team meetings, the way he would grab your waist and just lift you up to move you out of the way rather than a polite 'excuse me' like a normal person, or your personal favorite, the 'oops, I didn't see ya there', were all ways that he had finally destroyed your last nerve.

He thought it was funny, of course, and he had called you cute far too many times now; you didn't want him to see you as cute, you wanted him to see you as a teammate who was just as capable as he was, and as someone who was so much more than his accidental coat rack. On this day, however, you finally chose to speak up, but it didn't help your argument much by choosing a moment that only bolstered his own point. The team was on the way back from a mission, and the flight home would be lengthy; you hurried onto the quinjet to secure a bench to nap on before anyone else could take it, only to wake a short time later with a weight holding you in place that hadn't been there when you fell asleep.

"Barnes," you grumbled, "why am I holding your jacket again?"

"You looked cold and all of the blankets were taken."

"So you used your jacket?"

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, crossing the cabin to take it from you with a swift pull, "it seemed to work just as well. You're little enough to fit in there real nice."

"Okay, that's it, I'm done." You pushed yourself up to sitting, shaking your head slightly just to bring yourself fully awake, looking up at him with sleepy eyes that made it difficult to make your point. When he looked back, his eyes were soft and sleepy too, and his lopsided grin was ruining your determination. "Stop it, this is serious."

"Stop what?"

"That stupid grin you always have on that dumb face of yours."

"Wow, harsh, doll."

"I'm not your doll," you snapped. "I'm not little. I'm not your coat rack, or your elbow rest, or your pillow on movie night, none of it. You treat me like I'm here for your convenience and like I can't take care of myself, and I'm sick of it!"

Bucky sat silently to make sure that you were finished, though his mouth was open in shock at the sudden outburst that he was never expecting. He had thought that his way around you was playful at best, and that he was showing affection in a way that was comfortable for him; not many things were comfortable just yet, but you had always been very welcoming when he had joined the team and he felt like he could be more relaxed with you. "(Y/N), I'm...I'm really sorry, I didn't mean anything to come across that way. I was just havin' fun. I thought you knew that."

"Oh, well...yeah, fun is okay," you answered softly. "Maybe that came across a little too angrily, sorry. It's okay, but maybe find something else to lean on when Steve's meetings get a bit too long."

"Hey! Since when is this about me?" Steve called out from the pilot seat, turning around looking as if he had been slapped in the face. "I've gotten better!"

"If by better he means that no one has fallen asleep yet this month, then yeah, soooo much better," Bucky snickered under his breath, his genuine smile returning as he watched you laugh along. As the sound of your voice faded away and you were still watching each other, he took a deep breath and moved to sit next to you to keep his voice low so that Steve would mind his own business. "(Y/N), come on, you know that I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, right? I think it's cute that you can wear my jacket like a blanket, and that you fit just perfectly in my arms when I need a good hug after a shit day. It's cute, I swear."

"Maybe I don't want you to see me as cute, Buck."

He turned to face you, and his expression had shifted; you couldn't be sure of what you were seeing from him, but the tone was different now, as if he were looking into your soul as he met your gaze, and was searching for something beyond his reach. "How do you want me to see you, (Y/N)?"

"As a peer," you answered in a shaky whisper, "as someone who can hold their own." Your nerves were beginning to get the best of you, and you didn't know why. You had been closer than this to him before and never felt this way. The way he was looking at you made it hard to turn away, but when your breathing began to quicken, you forced it to happen. "How else would there be?"

"Hmm, well," he offered, leaning in closer to whisper, his warmth taking any of the cold that you had felt around you, "think on that for a while, sweetheart, and you get back to me."

~~~

The next week passed by painfully slowly after that discussion, and it was as if Bucky was avoiding you completely. A movie night had come and gone with no sight of him, and his chair was always empty at dinner; there was always a very convenient excuse to miss out, and you began to believe that the excuse was because you were there and hadn't gotten back to him like he told you to.

Telling Natasha was probably your biggest mistake, forgetting that when she had an idea and a goal set in her mind, there was nothing that would stop her from reaching it. She was convinced that Bucky wanted more with you, despite your argument that he saw you as his cute and safe friend that he wanted to carry around in his pocket.

"He wants you in more than his pocket," Nat laughed, "trust me, (Y/N). I can tell."

"Well, I think you're wrong. I think you're wrong about this dress, too."

Tony had announced that he was throwing a party for the Stark Foundation at the tower, and that everyone had to attend. Black tie, of course, because this was Tony Stark, after all, and you had nothing of the sort to wear. When Natasha had heard of your predicament with both attire and with Barnes, she was fast to grab you and head out to buy the perfect dress for the occasion. Or so you thought. It wouldn't be for months later that you would find out that she had gotten to Tony right after you had told her about Bucky, and he had thrown together this party on a whim to make the opportunity with the two of you happen.

"Nat, he's bringing a date. This is stupid."

"No, Sam's bringing a date for him," she argued. "That's different. I'm telling you, (Y/N), as soon as he sees you in this, there won't be anyone else in the room."

"Pfft, right. Make sure that you perch me up on a table or something so he can actually see me."

~~~~

But later that night, after the party had been underway for over an hour, he did see you. His date was going on and on about something that had barely held his attention, and he had emptied his drink more times than he cared to count. Sam had bailed and left him alone with her, and Steve was nowhere in sight. He wasn't looking for you in particular; in fact, he was looking for anyone who could save him from the conversation that he never wanted to have. She had gone on for the last twenty minutes about the tower and what it must be like to live there and if he could introduce her to Spiderman. It was when she asked to touch his metal arm that he couldn't stand it anymore.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," Bucky began his lie, "but I have to leave the party early. We have a mission in the morning that I need to do extra prep...for..." he stopped, his voice trailing away to nothing. She began to ask about what he had to do, but he didn't hear a single syllable. His senses were frozen, deaf to her grating voice and his vision locked on only one thing...only one person. "Wow," he mumbled, walking away from her without explanation, needing to reach you as quickly as he could.

"Okay, here he comes," Nat announced, turning you towards her for one final look at your hair and makeup that she had meticulously done for you. "Don't screw this up."

"Thanks for the boost in confidence."

"It's what I do," she nodded, turning you back to watch Bucky approach. She slid away into the crowd to find her best vantage point to take it all in, ready to see her work in action.

As he got closer, you realized that you weren't even sure what you were going to do once he reached you. Did you want him to see you as more than his friend, or were you just caught up in Nat's idea that you did? Were you caught up in the sight of him in a tuxedo for the first time? Because damn, did he wear it well. Just to test yourself, you gave a quick look around the room to the men of your team, finding that each of them looked great in their tuxes as well, but none of them as wonderful as Bucky did, and none of them made your heart race like this. It was all you needed to decide that yes, you wanted him to look at you differently.

"(Y/N)," Bucky greeted, clearing his throat as his voice faltered, holding his hand out to take yours, "you look...I mean...just...damn." He gave you a gentle turn, slowly spinning you around so that he could take in the entire sight. "Is this new?"

"This old thing?" you smiled coyly. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," he sighed, his response clear enough in the uncomfortable tug at his collar as he continued to stare with wide and eager eyes, "that's not exactly the word I would use."