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"Do we really have to go?" Bucky asked for the umpteenth time as he emerged from the bathroom. He looked insanely dashing in his suit and tie and if you weren’t annoyed with his question you would’ve been tempted to jump his bones right then and there.
"Buck, come on," you sighed as you walked over from your vanity. You stood in front of him, adjusting his tie and doing a last double check to make sure his hair was just right. "It’s one banquet and we haven’t seen my parents in a year."
When you were pleased with his appearance, you made your way back to the vanity, touching up your makeup and adjusting the knee-length black dress you decided on.
"Think we could go another year without seeing them," Bucky mumbled as he took a seat on your shared bed, waiting for you to finish up.
You set your lipstick down rather harshly, but Bucky didn’t even flinch. "Bucky," you groaned — your tone rather colder than normal.
Seeing your parents was definitely not on the list of things you wanted to do with your night either, but for Bucky… he absolutely despised them. The feeling was a bit mutual between your parents and him.
They had never really been very welcoming nor were they very excited about the relationship and, boy, did they make sure you both knew it. If it wasn’t passive aggressive comments it was blatant ignoring or even avoidance.
Your parents had a very negative connotation before ever even meeting Bucky. When they had figured out who you were really seeing, they both, especially your dad, acted a bit cold towards mentions of him. When they actually met, it was really shit hitting the fan. Bucky was never anything but nice — at least until it came the snarky comments. When those started, his temper could go off a little. This, of course, only drove home the idea he wasn’t right for you in your parents’ mind.
As results of repeated mishaps, invitations were never directly extended to Bucky. But, being an adult, you were at the point in the relationship where you were bringing him anyways. Truly, you just wanted everyone to get along and you were certain if they all just had a normal conversation they could maybe be at least civil.
So, that was how you always ended up with micro fights before seeing your family. Bucky swore up and down that nothing was going to change your stubborn parents, but you insisted that with time, they would have to come around to the man you loved. You were at a point where you really needed this.
"I’m just saying," he sighed and got up from the bed. You continued with your makeup as you watched him fidget around the room. It was an understandably uncomfortable position to be put in, you thought, but it would all come together one day — it had to at this point. Life changes were brewing but you didn’t want to think about that right now.
You applied the matte red lipstick as your finishing touch and placed it in your clutch. Getting back up from your vanity, you halted Bucky’s nervous movements with a soft touch on his shoulder. He turned to face you, a small frown playing at his lips.
"They’ll come around eventually," you said, fiddling with the heart-shaped charm necklace Bucky had gotten you for your last anniversary. "They gotta."
Your boyfriend gave you a weak smile and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sure, doll."
***
You weren’t even 30 minutes into the banquet and Bucky had already downed two glasses of champagne. Despite the fact it could never get him drunk, he claimed it helped him to just relax a little and you didn’t fight it. Plus, the waitresses seemed happy to serve him which was entertaining for you to witness.
The hall was filled with New York aristocrats and it seemed like everyone wanted to stop you to say hello despite the fact they only knew you as your parents’ daughter. You played along well in the small talk, having been trained in this since you were just a child, but no matter what it never got enjoyable.
Finally, you saw your parents make their way into the room, allowing you to bid a farewell to some senator’s wife talking your ear off. Bucky sulked but followed behind you, nursing his fourth glass of champagne.
"Mom, dad," you greeted them each with a hug, careful not to disturb your mother’s precisely done hair-do. "How are you guys?"
Your mother was about to answer you until her eyes landed on Bucky, who was still lingering a few steps away from you. You could feel his eyes staring them down as he drank his champagne. You watched your parents’ expressions turn from delighted to cold as if a switch had been flipped.
"How was traffic?" You asked, turning your body to obstruct their view of your boyfriend. "We got here in a breeze."
Your mother brought her attention back to you as your father broke away, mumbling something about a client waving to him. You watched over your shoulder as he walked past Bucky giving him a tight smile. Bucky greeted him with a proper hello and wave, his smile faker than ever.
"I believe traffic was just fine," your mother finally answered you. It was a dumb question — they had a driver. Neither of them gave a rats ass about the traffic but it was something to keep their focus off of Bucky.
"Wonderful," you mustered out. Your forced, over-the-top smile was beginning to falter especially when you felt a presence come up right behind you. Your mother’s stance shifting gave away who it could be.
"Good evening," Bucky said as he exchanged his empty glass for a full one as a waitress zoomed past. He took a sip and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him securely. You nearly wanted to roll your eyes at his antics. Even your mother eyed his grip with suspicion.
She cleared her throat and met Bucky’s stare, "James." Glancing around the room, she most likely was looking for your father as an escape, but turned back when proved impossible. "I didn’t realize you’d be attending tonight."
"Could never pass on a night out with my girl," he said with a cocky smirk. Now you could really roll your eyes. "Plus, I get to see all these wonderful people."
"I’m sure, yes," your mother’s voice was getting harsher. The calm before the storm. "Lots of great people you may have never met otherwise."
You appreciated that your parents thought so highly of you but, jeez, implying he was a second-class citizen? You didn’t need another reason to be nauseous.
"You’re absolutely right, ma’am," The sarcasm in Bucky’s voice was the final straw for you. With a frustrated sigh, you pulled his arm from your waist and dragged him with you to the silent auction table. You decided you could hide your anger by browsing the tacky items up for bidding.
You began inspecting some gold-plated silverware when you felt Bucky’s worrisome eyes on you.
"Interested in some new cutlery, doll?" He asked, still watching your eye wonder over to the bidding sheet.
"This was a bad idea," you confessed. Bucky was fairly certain you weren’t talking about silverware.
He sighed, bringing a comforting arm around your waist. You melted into his touch instantly. "No, babe, this isn’t on you — it’s on me. I gotta stop throwing gasoline on the fire."
You shook your head, "No, things just may always be a mess with them."
Bucky was at a loss. Sure, there had been some unpleasant lunches and equally awkward dinners with them but this… this wasn’t right. You never threw in the towel and Bucky admired that. For everything you two endured, you always had some hope — especially about this. He knew how much it meant to you for your parents to like him and he tried so hard in the beginning, but they gave nothing back. It was wearing down on him, too, but he did it all for you and he reminded himself of that every time you pulled him to these functions.
"Babe, I-,"
"I’m running to the restroom," you pulled yourself out of his grip before he could throw anything else out there. With your head down, you weaved your way to the restrooms in the lobby of the hall.
You didn’t know how, but the women’s room was mostly empty. There were a few touching up their makeup but once they left, you were alone in the overly dramatic restroom.
You placed your clutch on the counter and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were starting to get red as they threatened to water and you mentally cursed yourself for not wearing waterproof mascara. The most you could do was reapply your lipstick and waste mindless time in here. Better to not even think about what was waiting on the other side.
You were taking your sweet time fixing your appearance when the restroom door opened. Watching through the mirror, you were greeted by your mother making her way in. She stood on the opposite side of the restroom, arms folded, waiting for you to finish.
"What?" You asked, your words coming out weaker than expected.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," she said, but you knew by her tone that wasn’t just it. There was a weird silence before she spoke up again, "You know, being with a guy that makes you so frazzled isn’t ideal."
Ah, there it was. You tossed your lipstick on the counter — the second time this evening your lipstick has been the target of your frustration — and turned to face her. Your posture was no more of a wounded puppy and instead a bubbling anger was rising in you.
"This isn’t just about him and you know it."
Your mother sighed and crossed the room to you. She placed her purse on the counter, facing you. She tried grabbing for your hands, but you hesitantly pulled them away.
"Your father and I just don’t understand," she explained. "After all the doctors and politicians we brought around you went for him-,"
"Mom, I’m pregnant."
The silence that fell over the restroom was heavier than you had anticipated. Your mother, usually so poise and confident, was entirely speechless. Her previous rant was totally forgotten and now she just stared at you, more stunned than ever.
"You? You’re-,"
You nodded, "Pregnant."
"With his-,"
You cut her off with another nod.
"Y/N, wow…"
She was still slightly in awe staring at you, probably wondering if she could make any note of a belly bump yet. Despite not outwardly saying it, there was a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. You were her only child, after all. Grandchildren were only going to come from you.
"I’ve always wanted you all to get along, you know, but right now I need it more than ever," you admitted, fiddling with chipped nail polish on your finger nails.
She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, compelling you to look up at her. Her eyes were still in amazement and a slight smile played at her lips. "We’ve always just wanted what’s best for you."
"And Bucky is what’s best for me."
Your mother retracted at that. She began looking around again as if still unsure when it came to her words. It didn’t surprise you — you hadn’t exactly been so defiant before. Sure, your little acts of rebellion were boiled down to continuously bringing Bucky around, but standing up to your family… it took a lot for you and came from such a dear place in your heart. That had to count for something.
"Well," she let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess we’re going to have to start considering that. Especially for the little one."
You couldn’t help but smile at that attempt of agreement. She said so much yet so little at the same time, but you decided to just take it for what it was worth. They were at least going to try, according to your mother, and that had to be the start of something.
After a much needed hug, you two exited the restroom and were greeted by your father and Bucky. They were standing a good ten feet apart but they both were still alive, so, that was another win in your eyes.
Before Bucky could even get a word in, you wrapped your arms around his torso, nearly knocking the super soldier back in surprise. He was stunned at first, but eventually wrapped his arms around you.
Bucky chuckled, "Everything alright?"
"I told her."
You felt his entire body tense up. His grip on you started to falter. Pulling away, you looked up at him. He was staring at the wallpaper across the hall, totally unsure of how to react.
"Honey?" You asked, worriedly. He looked down at you briefly before turning to your parents who were staring at you two in the same sense of confusion.
"You told her?"
You let go of the hug and moved back to face your boyfriend fully. He looked unbelievably nervous — from his uneasy stance to his terrified expression, the soldier was threatening to crumble before your eyes. You grabbed his hand in some comfort and luckily he accepted it, but he still wasn’t looking at you.
"She did tell me," your mother confirmed. Your father looked between you two now even more confused.
"Told you what?" Your father’s voice was unsurprisingly booming. It would’ve made you jump had you not expected this outcome.
You glanced at Bucky, who was still a shocked mess, and took a deep breath, "I’m pregnant."
The chilling silence was not unlike the one had just witnessed in the restroom with your mother. The only difference was your father was looking at all of you like it was some kind of joke, but you held your ground and Bucky’s hand.
"Pregnant?" He finally asked in absolute disbelief, his voice much louder than expected. You figured he would take this rougher than your mother had but being on the verge of blowing a gasket in public? Unimaginable for someone like him.
You didn’t trust your voice, so you just gave a nod. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky’s gaze shift to the floor. Gosh, you wanted nothing more than to just crawl into bed with your man and forget tonight happened.
"I-,"
Your father was about to go off on some angry rant, probably about disappointment, given his harsh posture and pointed finger, but was cut off by a group of ladies entering the lobby. When he remembered where he was, he reeled it way back in.
"Dinner tomorrow. Our place," He adjusted his tie and resumed his composed figure. "We will discuss it then."
"Okay," you mumbled with a small nod. He looked like he was ready to storm out, but on his way to the door, he abruptly stopped in front of you two. Your father took your free hand and waited for you to look at him.
"I love you, you know?" His face was still so stern and harsh but the words gave some comfort. These were your parents after all — you would’ve went into hiding if this was going to make them disown you.
You gave another nod, "Love you, too."
With a pat of the hand, you watched him exit the banquet hall. Your mother was about to follow him out before stopping.
"When it settles, he’s going to be so excited to be a grandpa," she said and gave a kiss on your cheek. She gave Bucky a polite nod and he returned it with a stiff wave. "See you two tomorrow."
When they were out of the building, you turned to your boyfriend who still looked like he may pass out. Cupping his face, you gave a loving kiss to his lips which he happily returned.
"Everything’s going to be okay," you promised with another peck on the lips. Bucky’s hands came up to once again wrap you in a hug.
His forced a chuckle, "I can’t believe you told them." Despite the light nature of his tone, his rigid body told you he was still trying to come to terms with the situation.
"I’m sorry," you mumbled, trying to soothe his worried look. "It just slipped out and — and it’s my mom! I just wanted-,"
"Hey, hey." He hushed you, running his hands up and down your back. "I get it, but can you blame me for being shocked?"
You smiled, shaking your head. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Bucky whispered. "Can we please get out of here? I’ve had enough of these big shots."
You let out laugh, happily agreeing, and ventured out into the city.