#still bitter about them firing jenna in case anyone was wondering

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

love that everyone's just been going a little gill and gilbert mode the past couple of days

[snowyseba]

Missed Chances  - Part I

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes and Y/N are a match made in heaven, practically soul mates, but the problem is that they’ve never met. Theirs is a world of almosts. In the city of New York, anonymity is the norm. Each day you face a flux of new faces, most of them gone as quickly as they appeared. People flow in and out of the ever-changing city day in and day out. You could bump into someone on the street one day and never see them again. Unfortunately, that was the case for Y/N and Bucky. They’re meant to be…if only they ever get the chance to meet and turn their “almost” into reality.

Warnings: none for now

Word Count: 1,292

Wrapping your shawl tighter around your body, trying to keep out the bitter October wind, you made your way down the familiar streets of the city towards the familiar little shop a few blocks over. Shivering, you briefly wondered why on earth you had agreed to be the one to go get more wine and beer. You could have stayed at Wanda’s apartment, all cozy and bundled up by the fire, but no, you just had to make yourself useful.

Then again, staying would have meant actually having to socialize with your ex, which was not something you were exactly looking forward to. Things had ended amicably, but now he was with someone new and each time you saw her, it was like rubbing salt in an open wound. Her gaze lingered on you, sharp and inquisitive, which did nothing to ease your nerves. When Wanda had asked for a volunteer to go get some more supplies for the party, you were all too eager to oblige.

So here you were, walking a familiar path for what must have been thousandth time. The soft click-clack of your heels suddenly alerted you to the quietness of the night. The streets were quieter than you had expected, seemingly empty of the countless tourists that had flooded your neighborhood earlier in the day. It seemed like everyone was either at the bars or at home, you noted as you passed one of your favorite spots from your college days. It was a bit of a dive, usually smelling of spilled beer, the floors sticky, the interior murky, but you had so many fond memories there. It was the place that you had met Wanda, after all. You smiled to yourself as you saw a group of students stumbling down the street, laughing heartily at each other’s jokes. It reminded you of your own college days and the many nights that you had spent with Wanda, Steve, Sam, and Natasha.

Rounding the corner, you walked into your favorite shop, the bell on the door chiming pleasantly. The earthy smell of wood and wine greeted you as your eyes adjusted to the dim, yet somehow warm and comforting, lighting. Smiling at the girl behind the counter, you quickly made your way to the coolers. The boys had requested some obscure craft beer, which you weren’t sure you’d be able to find. Part of you wondered if they had asked for it just to mess with you. Who named a beer ‘Moose Drool’ anyway? Thankfully, you spotted one pack left, quickly grabbing it before heading to the wine section.

You blushed as you brushed shoulders with another customer in the narrow aisle before murmuring an apology.  The man nodded in response. Had you not already turned around, you would have been able to see how his gaze lingered on you, suddenly equal parts intrigued and nervous. He hadn’t really expected anyone else to be in the shop, particularly considering how late it was.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, searing for the familiar label of your favorite red wine. Since no one had a preference, the wine choice had fallen to you. If you had to put up with the awkwardness of attending the same party as your ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend, you might as well have a glass of your favorite wine to help pass the time. As you walked down the aisle, brow furrowed in concentration, your eyes finally landed on the object you were searching for. There was one last bottle, and it just so happened to be in the hands of the man you had bumped into just minutes ago. Part of you wanted to ask if he really needed that bottle of wine or if he’d be willing to part with it. Not wanting to seem desperate or pathetic, you decided against it, muttering a curse under your breath as you grabbed a few bottles of cabernet.

Placing the bottles in your basket alongside the beer, you took a moment to browse the food selections. This shop was your favorite for a reason, after all. Not only did they have the best selection of wine in the area, but they also had bread brought in from local bakeries, as well as a huge variety of cheeses and other snacks and appetizers. You picked up a baguette and a couple blocks of cheese, per Wanda’s request, before making your way to the cash register. Once you paid, you quickly grabbed your bag before wrapping your shawl tightly around your body, readying yourself to head back out into the cold of the evening.

Unbeknownst to you, the man you had bumped into earlier had, in fact, noticed you staring at the bottle in his hands. It was his favorite, but you had seemed so disappointed. After thinking it over for a while, he finally made up his mind. He was going to offer you the bottle, and maybe get your number in the process. You were quite beautiful, he noted. And besides, his best friend had been pushing him to ‘put himself out there more,’ whatever that was supposed to mean. Before he joined the army, Bucky had been quite the ladies man. Growing up, Steve had always been jealous of Bucky’s skill with women. He was the perfect mix of gentleman and rebel that seemed to make girls weak at the knees.

All that changed, though, after Bucky returned from his most recent tour. He had lost his arm in an explosion. He was able to get fitted for a fairly high-tech prosthetic that gave him back the mobility that he had previously had, but it felt foreign to him, a constant, unrelenting reminder of what he had endured during the war. He sort of shut himself away after that. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself now that he was home. After job searching for a while, he ultimately decided to take Steve’s advice and join the police force with him. They were partners, and Bucky did have to admit that it was pretty nice to be able to work with his best friend. It made him feel useful again, too. He had a purpose. He could do good, help people. But Steve was just about the only person Bucky interacted with, and that was becoming a more serious concern. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet anyone, he rationalized, but he found it hard to go back to the carefree, charming ladies man he had been those many years ago.

So here he was, trying to find the courage to speak up and offer this stranger a bottle of wine and ask her out on a date. Taking a deep breath to drum up courage, he turned towards where he thought you were still standing, smiling. But he was met with emptiness. The sudden chiming of a bell caught his attention. His eyes flicked over to the door just in time to see the swirl of your orange shawl enveloped by the inky night as you exited the store.

His arm fell to his side dejectedly, the bottle of wine suddenly feeling much heavier than it had before. He was disappointed, which was equal parts intriguing and confusing. He didn’t know you. He knew absolutely nothing about you. He didn’t even know your name, but he wanted to. For the first time in years, Bucky actually wanted to get to know someone else.

“And you let her get away, you idiot,” Bucky muttered to himself, shaking his head as he proceeded to the check out counter, the bottle of wine still in his hand. He didn’t really want it anymore, and yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to put it back.

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