#Nat Self Extended Romance Edit

[justsomebucky]

The Three Date Minimum - 3

Summary: Reader is the last single person at her office, and while she puts on a good front, she’s lonely. Will dating apps find true love, or will she swear off romance for good?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: language, drinking, sexual innuendo, lots of bad language, no elderly ladies were harmed, uh...fluff…this is fluff.

A/N: Sorry it’s been…three months?! I lost motivation. This is barely edited. But @imhereforbvcky wrote this amazing Wade story and while my Wade is nowhere near as perfect, it made me want to finalize this chapter. Thanks for the Wade help, Mee!

No matter how many times you told yourself that everything was going to be okay, you were still so freakin’ nervous.

Speed-dating was one thing…you didn’t have to put up with anyone for very long and you definitely had the chance to bail.

Your date with Wade was a real date, one that required extended alone time with one human, awkward or not. Not only that, but he wanted to go out on a Sunday…

Why a Sunday? He hadn’t bothered to tell you that.

In fact, Wade hadn’t even told you where you were going yet. His last text had said, ‘Dress casually. Can’t wait.’ followed by thirteen winky faces.

THIRTEEN!

What the hell could a grown-ass man accomplish by sending thirteen winky faces?

Anyway, you spent your morning with the nervous sweats while changing into five different ‘casual’ outfits, trying to decide which would be practical and comfortable but also make you feel less like a potato.

It didn’t help to have Natasha watching your every move, commenting on everything from your hair to your demeanor (you were not being negative, you were just feeling a little anxious!)

“Promise me that when he finally gets here you’re going to act a little more enthusiastic,” Natasha commented dryly from her seat on your bed. “If it’s already a bad date in your head, then it’s definitely not going to go well.”

“Can’t someone have more than one emotion, Nat? I am enthusiastically getting ready, after all.” You leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting the way the fabric of your shirt fell. “Do you think this –“

“It’s fine!” She stood up and pulled you away from the mirror, turning you around to face her before cupping your cheeks. “Y/N. You have to stay calm. You have to stay open-minded, okay? Wade has a lot of energy, he’s very excitable…just go with it for one night, okay?”

She was right, of course.

“I get it, Nat.”

“You can do this.” Her hands dropped from your face. “I believe in you.”

You gave a sharp nod, more for yourself than for her. “I can do this.”

Before Natasha could utter another word, the buzzer sounded.

It was five o’clock, and Wade had arrived.

----

To say that Wade Wilson was handsome would be insulting. He was gorgeous, with bright eyes and a great smile. He was also funny, sweet, charming as hell, and as Natasha had said, really energetic.

So energetic, in fact, that you were tired before you even got to the cab out front. As a self-made introvert, you just weren’t on his level anymore.

He opened the door for you, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture towards the back seat. “Ladies first.”

“Thanks,” you said, getting into the cab and scooting over to make room for Wade.

“Hello!”

You looked up at the rearview mirror, meeting the eyes of the driver. “Hello.”

“Dopinder, what did I say?” Wade chided, shaking his head. He looked over to you apologetically. “Don’t mind him, he’s just my regular driver so I asked for a favor tonight.”

“Mr. Wade, where are we going?” Dopinder asked, glancing at you again in his mirror. “Where does the young lady want to go?”

“I have plans to really wow this one.” Wade gave you a nod and a wink. “It’s 2865 West 3rd Street, here in Brooklyn.”

Dopinder looked confused for a second after typing the address into his GPS. “But Mr. Wade, that’s a –“

“Just drive!”

You shifted uncomfortably. What the hell was going on?

Where was Wade taking you?

“You know, Y/N, I feel like I ordered you off of Amazon or something,” he commented.

Your eyes met his again, and you tried to bite back a laugh. “Why is that?”

Wade’s thoughts went a mile a minute. “Well, it’s like something on my Wish List was finally back in stock, you know? And I got that little email alert, and my eyes lit up like a kid on his birthday, so I rushed over in a crappy cab to open your box. Well, not that box, maybe later though I don’t want to press my luck. Of course, maybe that’s a bad analogy since you seem really nice and Amazon is a corporate nightmare. Also Jeff Bezos is a real dickhead, he could end world hunger six times over but he doesn’t, so he deserves to have his nuts put in a blen-“

“We’re here!” Dopinder announced.

“Thank god,” you muttered, opening up your door and exiting the cab as quickly as possible. When you turned to look at the building you’d been dropped off in front of, your eyes narrowed in question.

“Shoreview Retirement Home,” you read out loud, turning to Wade in confusion as he finished paying Dopinder. “Wade, why…why are we at a retirement home?”

His eyes gleamed in the street light. “Oh, it’s not just any retirement home, Y/N. This is the home my Nana was at before her untimely passing.”

All you could do was follow him up the cement stairs and into the lobby. “But that only leads me to more questions, like, why are we at a retirement home for a date where your Nana used to be?”

The question fell on deaf ears, though, as Wade signed in at the front desk and was almost immediately surrounded by about eight different elderly women in wheelchairs, all reaching for him with big grins on their faces.

So he was popular with the elderly…big deal. It was kind of sweet, right? He clearly had a bond with these ladies, probably from all the time spent when his Nana was still around. It was really sweet that he still volunteered here.

“I don’t even volunteer here,” Wade called from the center of the granny cyclone. “I just show up to kick some old-timer ass at shuffleboard and eat all their applesauce. Greatest generation my ass!”

“It’s pudding night, hot stuff!”

“Watch your hands there, Gladys!”

His hands formed a little heart shape in your direction. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

----

“Okay, Y/N…the secret to being really really good at shuffleboard is to be the disc. Feel its path. Become one with the disc.” Wade reached around you and gripped your cue, making you feel incredibly uncomfortable for, oh, about the hundredth time since you arrived. “Here, let me show you in a not-at-all suggestive way.”

“I think I got it, Wade.”

“Okay, but just watch out, because that Dorothy over there, she’s a real competitor. She’s won the last five championships here, and I’ve seen her make some cutthroat moves to get that trophy.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Isn’t that right, Dot, you fucking cheater?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I’ll keep an eye out for Dorothy.”

Taking a turn was nerve-wracking, because not only was Wade up your ass with every move, but the old ladies really did take the game seriously. Once you pushed the disc down the court, you sighed in relief. You’d never wished for an open bar at a retirement home before, but there was a first time for everything.

After a mediocre round where the disc didn’t even get close to the mark, you turned back to Wade, who was now seated between two elderly women you hadn’t met yet.  

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, nodding toward the court. “It’s totally okay that you didn’t become the disc, and now Dorothy and Agnes are gonna take me for all their worth. It’s totally fine.”

So, you guessed it bothered him.

“Sylvia!” Wade shouted, jumping about a foot away from the little woman seated beside him. “Wait to pinch my ass until after I win!”

“Stop putting it in front of me, hot stuff,” Sylvia replied, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Wade stood up and walked over to you, rubbing his backside dramatically. “That Sylvia, man, she’s a goddamn cougar. Or a cougar’s horny Grandma. Everyone else here knows the ass-pinching-during-shuffleboard etiquette.”

“Wade, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked the attention you got from these women.” You gestured around you. “And they like it too.”

“I like to keep their spirits up, Y/N.” His face grew serious, hands moving to his hips. “It’s not about me at all. I simply want to help some old women facing the end of their meaningless, stinky, diaper-ridden lives to have a little fun before they’re sent to the dirt. The men here could join too, but they just get so jealous. A shuttle with a working rocket booster can really cause some envy around here.”

“Fair enough,” you offered, handing him the cue for his turn and ignoring his last remark. “But I’m not a seasoned shuffleboard professional. If you can salvage this turn we still have a good chance at winning.”

He gave you a wink. “You’re damn right we do. Watch and learn, Y/N.”

You stood off to the side as Wade stepped up to the court, cue in hand as he stared his opponents down.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad. He liked helping others and he really did seem like the kind of guy who wanted to make the world a better place, even if it was in his own weird way. Plus, at least it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill dinner and a movie, right? It was something to talk about.

“Goddammit, Dorothy! I’m gonna yeet your fucking dentures into next Tuesday if you don’t stop cheating!”

You shrunk back against the brick wall behind you.

Then again, maybe he really did just like competing against senior citizens.

----

Once Wade was declared shuffleboard king (after challenging one of Agnes’ moves), he tried to get you to stay for celebratory rice pudding, but you insisted that you had to get home (at 7:30 PM on a Sunday).

Was it a good date?

Would you…could you go out with him again?

It would take a lot of processing and probably a lot of alcohol to figure that one out, but it was still your second-best date so far.

At least this whole ordeal would be over soon and you could go back to watching Netflix.

You narrowly avoided having Dopinder pick you up by explaining that you liked to walk, and after a goodnight hug that lasted a little too long (with an almost-ass-grab that you also narrowly avoided), you and Wade parted ways.

As you passed the 107th on your way home, a strange urge to go inside and vent to the snarky bartender filled your veins. It would just be nice to talk to someone who was calm and witty instead of crazy and…well, crazy. Plus, it was too early to message Nat or Wanda without them hounding you for details.

Just one drink, you promised yourself as you stepped up to the door and reached for the handle.

On the door, a bright yellow notice informed you that the place was closed for a private party.

“Dammit,” you mumbled, lowering your hand. With a sigh, you turned back around to head home to whatever takeout and wine might be left in your fridge.

“Hey!”

Wait…

“Snarky bartender?” you asked, turning around to see Bucky opening the door. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to creep on the bar, I saw that notice and was leaving.”

A bemused smile lifted his lips. “Snarky bartender? Is that what you’ve been calling me in your head?”

“And out loud now, ‘cause I forgot your name,” you lied smoothly.  

“Sure you did. Just like I forgot yours, Y/N.” He kept the door propped open with his foot as he stepped further outside. “Did you want to come in?”

“I thought there was a private event?”

“There is.”

“It’s not a speed-dating event is it?”

“No, it’s an engagement party.”

Your brows stitched together. “Which means it’s invite only.”

“And I’m inviting you.”

“Won’t the host get mad?”

“No, I’m the host.”

“You’re the what now?”

Bucky chuckled at your confused expression. “I mean, I own the place. This is my bar. So my invite stands, if you want.”

You eyed him warily. Why hadn’t he told you it was his bar and he was a snarky owner? “I shouldn’t. I have work in the morning.”

His head tilted a little as he pushed the door a little wider. “Come on, just stay for a few drinks, on the house. And I mean it this time.”

“Well when you put it that way.” You brushed past him and right into the party, his soft laugh echoing behind you.

----

Part 4

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