#snookums

“Fuck,” he curses and stops in his tracks. He looks at all the picture frames of you and Bucky on the fireplace mantel. “She thinks I’m not good enough. I knew she would realize that she could do better.”

He sighs again and shakes his head. Bucky got you all the nice gifts. He bought scented candles and your favorite flowers. Now you told him that you will go for lunch with your family. 

Bucky looks at the newest picture frame you placed on the fireplace mantel. You are sitting on his bike, smirking as he stands behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle. He grabs the frame, staring at the picture again.

He walks toward the couch, the picture frame in his hands. “Doll…” Bucky presses the frame to his heart and sniffs. He knew it was only a matter of time before you’d leave him.

Lost in self-doubts he doesn’t recognize you walk inside his living room.

“There you are,” you place one hand on your heart and sigh, relieved. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, Bucky.”

“Doll?” He looks up to meet your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh-I came here because you didn’t come to the restaurant. I feared you had an accident or something. We waited for you at the restaurant for over an hour.”

“Restaurant?” He slowly gets up from the couch. “But…you wanted to eat with your family. I wasn’t invited.”

“What?” You wrinkle your forehead. “Bucky, I told you about the restaurant and when we will meet. Why didn’t you come?”

“You didn’t invite me,” he sniffs. “I can’t crash a party.”

“Bucky,” your features soften seeing the doubts in his eyes. “You are my boyfriend. There is no need to invite you.”

He looks hurt at your words. “I get it…”

“No, you don’t get it, snookums,” you step toward your boyfriend to grab his hand. “You are always invited because you are my boyfriend. If I say I want to have lunch with my family, this includes you, Bucky.”

“Oh…OH,” he looks at your hand holding his. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you know,” you grin at Bucky. “My snookums is always invited.”

Bucky feels his heart flutter. It’s the first time he doubted your feelings for him, and he feared he’d lost you. “What do we do now? Your parents will believe I’m unreliable.”

“I told them that you got sick,” you smile up at Bucky. “We can have dinner with them next week. I want to spend the day with my man.”

“Yeah?” He mirrors your smile. 

“Yeah…”