#fluff fanfic

the day that you had received the news that your best friend was getting married and that she wanted you to be her maid of honour, bucky had never seen you so happy.

he'd been in the kitchen halfway through making grilled sandwiches for the two of you when the door had slammed open. you'd burst through your apartment door breathless and beaming, your phone is one hand and a box full of tissue paper and embroidered satin in the other.

bucky barely had any time to turn off the stove before you'd thrown yourself at him, the news spilling from your mouth like a secret you simply couldn't keep.

"buck—" you gasped out, voice pitching up in disbelief as you show him the contents of the box. "look!"

bucky watches as shreds of paper and glitter fall to the ground, catching on your shoes and on his socks and on literally every in a two feet radius, but none of that is what catches his attention.

its the small card that sits on top, baby pink and unmistakably handwritten by your friend. the text is written in glittery ink and the paper is wrinkled at the edges like you'd already opened it a million times.

he looks up at you just to see that you're already staring at him with those big gleaming eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"what am i looking at, baby?" he asks softly even though the answer already sits in the forefront of his mind.

you exhale, a small shaky kind of breath that makes your shoulder lift, and then you turn the box around. you nudge it a little closer like the words won't make sense unless he's really looking at it, and then glittery ink finally makes a little more sense.

"she asked me to be her maid of honour!" you chirp.

there it is. the truth, the joy, the reason you look like you might just grow wings and fly off into the sky.

bucky lets your announcement settle for a minute, not because he's surprised— he isn't— but because watching you say it, watching the way your face lights up from the inside and out, feels like something he just shouldn't rush.

he'd seen you happy before— laughing at a movie happy, seeing a cute puppy happy, scoring the last parking space happy— but this? this was different.

"yeah?" he smiles, "sweetheart, that's huge. i'm happy for you."

you nod way too fast, already biting back another grin. "i know! i know, i just— i wanted to tell come home and tell you first."

and something in that small confession settles in his chest; the fact that you ran straight home— straight to him— like it wasn't even a second thought.

"well—" he says, voice dropping into something more fond and a little helpless, "c'mere and let me give you a hug before you explode all over the kitchen."

you laugh— a light and breathless little giggle— and set down the box onto the kitchen island before throwing yourself around bucky. his arms come around you instantly, tight and warm and instinctive like his body was just waiting for an excuse to hold you.

"i'm proud of you." he murmurs as he presses a kiss against the side of your head, "she picked the right person. youre gonna do so well."

you dont say anything and bury your face further into his chest. your heart is pounding against your ribs, still trying to crawl its way out of your chest, but the hug grounds in you the best way possible.

"okay." you pull away from the hug, wiping at your flushed cheeks even though you're smiling too hard to actually cry, "i need to call her back before she thinks i passed out."

bucky grins as he wipes away a stray bit of glitter from your cheek, "you still look like you might."

you roll your eyes and grab the box again, practically levitating down the hall. as bucky watches you disappear into the bedroom, he finds himself smiling at the empty space you leave behind— soft, fond, and completely enamoured.

the wedding day comes before he can even blink.

one moment he's waking up with you clinging to his side, your leg thrown over both of his like you always do when you're asleep, and the next, you're shoving him into a freshly tailored suit and driving halfway across town to a venue that looks like it's been taken straight from a bridal magazine.

as he drives, he finds that your perfectionist energy has infected him. he finds himself looking at himself in the rear view mirror and swiping a hand through his hair and adjusting his tie every so often even though everything about how he looks is fine, because your perfume lingers in the car from the ride there like a ghost in the upholstery and it's messing with his ability to think.

you're not there to help him. your friends has picked you up earlier that morning, laughing to each other and hurried as they stole you away from him under the thin excuse of time. you'd left him with a soft peck on the lips and a wide smile as you adjust his tie, fingers careful and familiar, like you'd trusted him enough to pull himself together while you were gone.

"the reception starts at one, and the ceremony starts at three." you tell him, your hands flat against his chest. you can feel his heart thumbing under your palm, and it makes you smile. "do you remember where you're sitting?"

bucky huffs out a quiet laugh as he nods, "second row, closest to the exit. if i dont know where to sit, just follow the man with the funky tie and sit on his left."

you smooth your hand over his chest once more, this time moee self-indulgent than before. "if you forget, i wrote it on a card and put it in your jacket pocket."

his brow lifts. "you did?"

you nod. "i did."

there's a loud honking that echoes around the street in front of your apartment building, and the two of you turn towards the sound. the driver is grinning at you through the tinted window and the other is poking her head out of the car's sunroof,

"i have time anxiety, so move it!" your friend claps her hands and ducks back into the car, reaching over the steering wheel to bang her fists against the horn. it resonates through the street, and the two of you wince.

you turn back to bucky with a defeated sigh, giving him a tight lipped smile like this is some bittersweet goodbye between lovers who would never see each other for years after.

"that's my cue." you murmur, adjusting his suit just one more time, lingering longer than you probably should. "you look really handsome, bucky."

"and you look beautiful, sweetheart." your boyfriend is quick to compliment, hands reaching up to grab at yours and hold them in his. he leans in for a kiss and you gladly accept it, savouring the warmth and familiarity one more time before you're ripped away by responsibilities.

and when you pull away, your noses touch and bucky's thumbs brush over your knuckles, a silent promise that he'll see you in no time.

much to your dismay, your friend pops her head out of the sunroof again. "if you don't let go of that man and get in the car within the next ten seconds, i'm tellin' the bride that you tried to elope before her wedding!"

you roll your eyes as you finally pull away from him, the two of you prolonging the farewell with lingering physical touch and quiet smiles. "i'll see you in four hours, buck. don't have too much fun without me!"

"i could never." he replies, thumbs brushing yours before you finally let go and make your way to the car. the door shuts behind you and bucky watches as it turns out of the street, heart already aching at your absense.

but now he was at the wedding venue four hours later, standing at the front as he fixes his cuffs just to make himself a little more presentable for your sake. the cuffs itch and they're uncomfortably stiff, but you'd picked the suit out for him and you were so happy about it— why would he ruin that?

he's welcomed by the venue staff with easy smiles as he steps in, and he's welcomed by the family members of the bride who light up when they recognise him. there's a few warm hellos, a clap on the shoulder, a joking 'when are you proposing to your girlfriend?', and bucky takes it all with polite nods and half-smiles, even though his attention keeps drifting elsewhere.

he's looking for you, and anybody paying even the slightest bit of attention to him would be able to figure that out. his eyes trace every face in the room just to find yours. somebody asks him how work is and he gives a vague answer. somebody asks him where he got his suit from and he simply shrugs with a polite 'my girlfriend got it for me'. everything he does traces back to you.

and then the ceremony starts.

bucky follows the man with the funky tie and finds his spot closest to the exit just as the music swells. the room quiets, and bucky watches as the crowd turns to watch the doors open.

his breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of a bridesmaid, walking through the doors, silk dress brushing against the aisle as she carries herself towards the altar with grace. another follows, and then another, and he recognises them all— your friends, the people who'd practically torn you away from him this morning, the people you'd laughed and cried and leaned on for every milestone.

then, with the next shift of the music, you appear.

you glide in with the elegance of a swan, a pink bouquet of flowers held between your hands. every movement you make is precise and practiced, head held high like you're not just carrying the flowers and walking down the aisle, but like you're ecstatic to be the one chosen to stay by the bride, to hold a piece of her joy for yourself.

bucky freezes for a moment. the muscles in his face loosen and his jaw almost goes slack, caught between awe and something warmer that could deep within his chest.

you look just as beautiful as the day he met you.

with every sway of your dress, every firm press of your heel into the floor, and every grin you shine to a guest, theres a quiet tug that cant— and doesnt want to— resist.

and when the bride enters and the crowd erupts into aws and whispers, bucky can't help that his eyes follow you instead. your shoulders are straight and your steps are measured, and despite the stiffness you try to instil in your movements, there's a softness in the way your eyes sweep the crowd— curious and warm and searching— until they land on him.

for a brief moment, it's only you two. the music, the audience, the flurry of movement around you fades into the background. you smile at him— a small, private smile, one that makes bucky's chest tighten and his thoughts scatter— and something cracks open inside of his chest.

it's subtle, but it seeps through his body like warm hands on cold skin, or sunlight beaming through closed eyelids— slow, undeniable, and impossible to ignore.

bucky doesn't want anybody else. he never has. he's known it since the day he met you, but something in this moment cements it.

it's you when he wakes up, and it's you when he comes home. it's you when his days are both invigorating and exhausting. it's you standing there in soft silk and the warm light, grinning at him like your smile is something that loves inside of you rather than something you put on for show, like the world hasnt just rearranged itself around the fact that he doesn't want nor does he need anybody else.

every passing thought of anyone else has always faded the second you walked into the room. seeing you like this— radiant and proud and impossibly beautiful— its doesn't make him want more; it makes him want you.

bucky exhales through his nose, something like a laugh caught in his throat, his eyes never leaving you throughout the entire ceremony— not when the bride steps forwards and the groom gets his first look, not when the vows are exchanged, and not when the newlyweds walk down the aisle. he's enraptured by you up until you and the bridal party disappear back through the doors, swallowed by flowers and fabric and congratulations.

the reception begins with the swell of piano music and the horde of guests spill into the dining room.

the lights of the dining room are dimmed, string lights hanging from the ceiling like constellations. the tables are covered with cream cloth and the chairs are lined with glittery ribbon that catches the light just right. suit jackets are shrugged off and heels are kicked loose under the table, the forced stiffness of the ceremony melting into something more carefree.

bucky finds his assigned seat at a table full of familiar faces, mostly the significant others of your friends, the bridesmaids. they welcome him with open arms and pats on the back with easy smiles and casual greetings like he belongs there.

the conversation drags into easier topics— jokes about the ceremony, complaining about how long the speeches are going to be, speculation about what the food will be like, mentioning the open bar like it's a gift from the heavens— until the screech of feedback from a microphone slices through the room.

"sorry—" the groom's brother apologises as the crowd quiets down, "didn't mean to do that. uh, thank you everybody for coming today. really, it's surreal looking at all of you and seeing so many people who love them both in one place. i know it means a lot to the newlyweds, and for me as well, because my brother is paying me to mc and dj tonight."

a ripple of laughter moves through the room.

"so, before we get into the speeches and— what i know you're all waiting for— the food," he clears his throat, tucking his palm cards into his pocket, "let's welcome... the bridal party!"

there's a wave of cheering and applause, chairs scraping and heads whipping around as people turn to watch the grand entrance. bucky straightens without meaning to, his neck craning to look over the mass of hair-sprayed heads.

the first couple walks in to loud whoops and whistles, laughing as they're ushered towards their table. then another, and another, each introduction met with more cheers, more clapping, and more playful shouting from the crowds.

and then you waltz in with your assigned groomsmen, the two of you bouncing around each other with the same bright energy, and the room eats it up. you bow dramatically for the crowd before being tugged upwards again, and you catch bucky's eyes with a wave. bucky grins into his glass like a love-struck idiot as you find your spot beside the bride.

the groom's brother lifts his microphone again. "alright... we're gonna start with speeches now, and i think it only makes sense to begin with the person who organised about ninety percent of this wedding. the woman who kept everyone on track, kept the newlyweds from losing their minds, and somehow looked incredible doing it— the maid of honour!"

there's an immediate ripple of excitement as the crowd begins to start clapping. people turn towards you. someone cheers your name. someone else whistles. it's a smorgasbord of noise and attention that rushes towards you all at once.

you blink— flustered— before laughing softly and pushing your chair back. you smooth your hands over the front of your dress and then reach for the microphone as it's passed to you. the room quiets again, and you take a breath.

"hi, uh." you lift your hand in a small half-wave like you're not quite sure what to do with all of the attention. your cheeks are pink and your smile is wide and almost disbelieving, but you continue.

"as you probably know by now, i'm the maid of honour. i've known the bride since... god, since forever. long enough that i remember her bad bangs phase and her obsession clear jelly shoes, so if anyone wants those photos later, i do take bribes."

the memory and the joke sends a ripple of laughter throughout the room, and bucky can't help but smile.

"but seriously," you say your voice softening. "i love her. i love her in a way that feels like family— in a way that feels like home. she's the person i lean on when i need help and the first person i call when something amazing happens. she's seen me at my best and my worst and still decided to keep me by her side anyways."

you glance towards the bride, you eyes shining.

"and when she met him... i could see it happen almost instantly. something in her just clicked, and when i wouldnt stop hearing about him after their first date, i knew that i was witnessing the start of two people finding themselves in each other.

over the years, i've watched them grown into each other. i've watched them choose each other again and again and again, even when things were hard or messy, and that's the type of love that lasts— the kind that you build a life on."

you swallow, eyes flicking back to your cards, but you find that nothing written in ink could possibly say what you really think. so you let them lower just a little, the paper flush against the table.

your eyes flick— not even intentionally— towards bucky, who's staring at you like you put the stars and the moon in the sky, like you're the only thing that's emitting light in the darkest night, and maybe that's why your voice softens when you speak.

"and i think what you two have taught me is that love isn't always about the big gestures or huge displays of affection." your eyes return to the bride, "it's knowing how you like your coffee... knowing whether you need quiet or distraction after a long day... being the place you feel the safest landing."

your smile is barely there now, warm tears flooding your eyes. you try not to blink just incase a tear ruins your makeup, but you can't help it when one runs down your cheek.

"and i hope that when it's my turn one day— when i'm the one wearing a dress i picked out months in advance and trying not to cry into the microphone— i hope i get something like this, and i hope that i get to look at my person and know, without a single doubt, that this is my person." you sniffle, "thank you for reminding me what love looks like."

something in bucky's chest twists, warm and tight, like a cord snapping taut.

it all makes sense now— those nights where you'd shut yourself in your room a with a notepad and a pen, the days where you randomly ask him how you take your coffee, or those odd moments where you'd drift off towards a corner, whispering ideas into the air like the walls were listening— you'd been writing a speech. a speech that, whether you realised it or not, was meant to show everyone— and maybe especially him— how you see love.

you raise your glass, and everyone in the room follows. "here's to love that feels like home and safety, to partnership, to choosing each other everyday, and to two people who did exactly that. i love you guys."

and as the room clinks glasses and cheers, bucky's eyes lock onto yours. his chest is full and aching in the best way possible, because he knows, without a doubt, that when the time comes, he wants that with you.

the speeches fade into laughter and applause, glasses clinking as everyone settles back into their seats for dinner. soon enough, the piano gives away to a livelier song, something upbeat and familiar, chairs scraping against the floor as feet shuffle towards the dance floor.

bucky watches from his seat for a moment, glass of champagne swirling around in his hand, before standing and letting himself be carried by the storm of people running towards the floor.

its a crowd of organised chaos and delight, the spotlights dimmed. couples are spinning each other around and little kids are dropping it low to the music, laughter bouncing off of the walls and the string lights ahead showering everything in a soft, golden glow.

the air is warm with perfume, sticky champagne, and the faint scent of sweet vanilla cake, and somewhere in the middle of it all, bucky finds you.

you're in the centre of the dance floor, laughing at something one of your friends just said. whatever little light there is catches on the curves of your face, your dress moving on its own as you sway to the music. and then, almost like you're tugged by some invisible string, your attention is pulled towards bucky. you send him a soft 'come over here' gesture and his chest tightens.

he cuts through the crowd without hesitation and almost before he even realises he's moving, weaving through dancing people and people chatting in circles until he's standing right in front of you.

your hands find his almost instantly, fingers curling around his like they've always known wgere to go, your warmth seeping into his skin and spreading through his body in a way that makes him feel a little lightheaded.

"hey, sweetheart." bucky is the first to speak, a soft smile stuck onto his face as he traces your features like he's seeing you properly for the first time.

"hi, babe. how are you? did you eat? how do i look? do i look okay?" you rush out in a single breath, brows almost knitted together as you stumble over your words.

but the answer comes easy to bucky, the words certain and firm, carrying the wright of everything he's been feeling tonight— "you're the most beautiful person i've ever seen."

your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before a slow smile spreads across your face. you look away, your cheeks warming. "buck, stop—"

"i'm serious, sweetheart. you look perfect." his voice comes out lower than he intends. he steps forwards, hands reaching for your waist, and he brings you close enough that he can see the flecks of glitter dusted upon your eyelids. "you are perfect."

for a heartbeat, the crowd and the music melts away. the laughter, the people, the twinkling lights— none of it really matters. its just the two of you, the brush of your hands, the heat of your presence, and the look in both of your eyes as you share your moment of joy.

"thanks, darling." your lips twitch— a tiny private grin that you try to hide. "you clean up pretty good yourself."

bucky huffs out a quiet laugh, eyes flicking between yours like he can gauge every unspoken feeling that runs through your mind. "yeah, well... i needed to be worthy of the maid of honour."

"worthy, huh? you've still got a long way to go, soldier." you tease, though you feel your chest tighten when his arm wraps around your lower back.

bucky grins, eyes glinting with mischief. "oh, i plan on spending a lifetime getting there."

you roll your eyes but your small smile gives you away. bucky pulls you in until your lips are pressed against his, your lipstick certainly staining his skin. the warmth of him, the press of his skin on yours, the brush of his hands on your hips, it’s enough to make everything melt away, but you almost don’t render him pulling away.

almost.

you suck in a breath when you notice the creases forming on bucky’s forehead, the lines soft and worried like the thought had been sitting in his mind for too long.

something catches in his throat, the question falling out before he can stop it. "did you mean what you said?"

you cock your head to the side just slightly, a teasing tone in your voice as you stare up at bucky with soft eyes. "what did i say?"

"that one day you want to be the one standing up there… with your person. that you want that kind of love.” he says quietly, uncertainty lacing each word. “that you want to get married.”

your heart thuds against your chest with a warmth that’s almost overwhelming. the look on bucky’s face rivals even the cutest of things— soft and unsure, like a puppy behind scratched glass waiting to see if its wanted.

you reach up without thinking, a hand resting along his jawline. his jaw clenches as you rub your thumb along the stubbled skin, his eyes flicking between yours as he awaits your answer.

"of course, i meant it. i’d love nothing more for that day to come.” you say gently. and then, with a tiny huff of a laugh and your other hand pressed against bucky’s chest, you grin. “and maybe the day would come quicker if a certain somebody stopped walking on eggshells and just popped the million dollar question already."

a soft laugh escapes bucky, and almost like all of the stress leaves his body, you can feel him melt into your touch.

"what kind of idiot keeps a woman like you waiting?" he murmurs with jokingly narrowed eyes, forehead tipping towards yours. “guy’s a real coward, isn’t he?”

"the biggest." you easily agree with a sneaky smile, but then more sincere, you say; "but he should also know that there's no rush, and that i'm not going anywhere anytime soon. i quite like having my very own barista in the mornings."

you lean up and press a soft kiss to the hollow of his cheek, your lips lingering for a moment as if to say ‘i love you’ before you pull away with a cheeky grin.

“now, you wanna stop standing there all love-struck and take the maid of honour for a spin? she’s been waiting all night for a dance with a man as handsome as you.”

bucky raises his brows, a smirk settling into his face as you tug him towards yours. “wouldnt want to keep a pretty lady like you hanging.”

his hand slips into yours as you pull him into a steady rhythm, his body following yours as you sway to the song. you pull him into the movement and the music and the lights, a breathy laugh escaping you when bucky spins you once, and then twice. it’s clumsy and uncoordinated, your dress flaring as you come back into his arms.

as he laughs, something in that moment— warm and spinning and so close to you— it hits him with a quiet certainty; maybe that five thousand dollar diamond wedding ring in his underwear drawer might find its way into his hands earlier than he'd thought.

꧁ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ ꧂

the bathroom door sits wide open- tsumiki sitting on the counter, legs whimsically swinging, watching you in the mirror as you work carefully through her hair.

you're snug fit in your lounge shorts and your bsf's hoodie- gently gathering sections of her hair before moving on to the other.

the front door flew open and the next thing you heard were footsteps and plastic bag crinkles.

there goes the familiar hum, totally off key but unmistaken.

satoru paused by the doorway.

grocery bags tugged tight in both hands and his sunglasses resting on his head. he stared at the back view of you quite openly for a moment.

you always felt that stare. you're best friends with the man with the most piercing eyes you'd ever seen. it'd be weird to not feel it even you're not in clear view of him.

megumi slipped past him through the doorway without a comment and placed his fair share of plastic bags on the kitchen counter.

satoru blinks off the stare then claps his hands a single time, "okay announcement! i brought the snacks." like it was an irregular occurrence that he had snacks...

"come oooon~ be excited. the strawberry mochi aren't gonna eat themselves." he pouts.

you only turn ur head back for a second and continue your focus on the second pigtail. "yeah yeah gimme a second toru."

you hear an audible, offended gasp. "i'm about to walk over and fatten you up right where your standing."

"so dramatic am i right tsu. alright all done now- now go make sure megs isn't stealing your favorites."

she hops down and scurries off, dismissing gojo like he's only worth his sweets.

"how much d'you spend this time" you turn around to put the basket of hair ties away in a cabinet.

"mmm- not a number i should let you worry about."

"you're unbelievable"

there's just a short pause of silence, nothing too heavy. how could any silence be the awkward kind with the "bsf" you're supposedly raising kids with.

satoru likes to make co-parenting jokes and you're never sure how to feel about them.

"look at you go." he teased,"doin mom stuff."

"and you, such a man of the house aren't you, toru."

he places his hand on his chest with pride "oh i know. i provide, i protect, i do snack duty."

you chuckle lightly as he nudges your waist towards the living room.

꧁ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ 𒊹︎ ꧂

by now, the living room is littered with wrappers and empty chip bags. the tv's playing a random movie that started after megumi's favorite played its credits.

tsumiki's slumped by the arm of the couch that all four of you share and megumi's delicate head leans against your arm- leaving gojo and you smack in the middle.

barely awake, you gently play with megumi's hair like its habit. satoru notices, he always does. he's glancing over at your hand, almost like he's jealous it's not his head it's on.