Nailed It

Nailed It

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: super duper fluffy, some pining, some misunderstanding

Summary: Reader takes Bucky with her to the nail salon and ends up with a whole lot more than a polish change.

WC: 2240

A/N: No use of y/n, reader isn't described, and this is a shameless 'we have always lived in the tower' fic. Basically, CW never happened, Tony, Steve, and Bucky got their poop in a group like adults, and it's always chill on the communal floor.

Italicized conversation is in Vietnamese, plus a couple other phrases written out.

Special note: many thanks to @noellez-best-life23 and her hubs for the beta and the assistance. They rock.

Divider by @enchanthings

“Where ya headed?” Bucky asked, his voice carrying over from the couch in the common area while you made your way into the kitchen. The only parts of him you could truly see were the beat up old boots hanging over the arm of the sectional at one end and the curtain of his hair draped across the other end

“Hell if I don’t change my ways,” you replied as you filled your emotional support thermos with ice and fresh water. His little giggle in reply made you smile. “Headed out to get the claws sharpened.” 

This was greeted with the cutest gopher impression you’d ever seen, with only the top of his head popping up over the back of the couch to reveal his gorgeous eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s a thing you need?” he asked as he sat up further and brushed his dark bangs out of his face. 

“I’m going to get my nails done,” you clarified with a smile, showing off your purple, glittery tips in desperate need of some professional attention. “Wanna come with?” 

Now, a part of you asked as a joke, because that wasn’t really his scene. It wasn’t like Lotus Nails in Little Saigon was a huge tourist attraction. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to spend time with him. 

In the protective confines of the tower, you were mission support and comms, not a superhero in any way but tech, and yet, you and Bucky had hit it off immediately, bonding over sci-fi and fantasy books and movies. He was frighteningly smart, with a sarcastic sense of humor and a sassy beautiful mouth. He made the cloistered, serious life of being a member of the Avengers Support crew fun. 

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed he was pretty. Like intimidatingly so, even without the metal arm. You had eyes, and had had a healthy crush on him going back to eighth grade American History class, but in person… You’d like to say it was no problem at all overlooking that ridiculously sharp jawline and those massive shoulders, and that mouth… whew. 

But more than just a gorgeous everything, Bucky Barnes was a sweetheart. If ever a man ignited your desire to cuddle them, it was him. Something about him made you squishy and soft, and while normally you’d squash that instinct immediately, with him you were hesitant to follow through on that. 

In the first place, you had no idea how he felt about you. Up to this point, you’d been wallowing in your one-sided crush on a man who was likely emotionally unavailable in that sense. Not that you blamed him. After all he’d been through, he needed to do what he needed to do for him and you would never begrudge him that. 

In the second place, there was the not so little matter of you. You weren’t armed with potentially lethal sexiness like Natasha, or waif-like and twee like Wanda. You didn’t have illusions, not once in the history of ever had you been anyone’s first choice. Not that that really mattered anymore. Thanks to therapy and working on yourself, you were strong in your own sense of self and mostly unbothered by how other people perceived you or responded to you. 

It’s still unclear to you how a question tossed out so flippantly resulted in you standing in a crowded subway car to the Village with the Winter Soldier pressed in behind you like the most menacing and unreasonably hot shadow possible, but you had to admit, his henley, boots, and jeans combo coupled with his long hair, bright eyes, and stubble, was a thirst trap in every practical sense. 

So much for the relaxing afternoon you’d had planned. Now you’d be spending it focusing on keeping your libido from taking over your tongue and releasing your mortifyingly acute crush on such an unsuspecting victim. 

You two had made some smalltalk on the way to the salon, the brisk afternoon breeze refreshing after the stuffy train ride. 

You’d told him about needing to change from your winter to your summer color palette on your tips and toes, and he’d nodded along dutifully, glancing at your sandaled feet. The squinting  look of confusion and vague consternation never really left his face. 

He held the door as you entered the building, likely a reflex but you thanked him all the same. If you blushed a little, you could chalk it up to the sun exposure. 

“Chào các bạn,” you greeted the ladies as you walked into the salon. You’d been coming here for years, longer than you’d been with the Avengers even, so this place was a regular haunt for you. Because of the time of day, the place was mostly empty except for the staff, all of whom were sweet and very curious about your tagalong. 

“You speak Vietnamese?” Bucky questioned over the chattering as he watched you interact with your friends. 

“Sure,” you replied with a shrug and a smile. “Learned it for just this reason, actually. I like talking to folks and meeting new people.” He nodded, but it was hard to tell if he was still confused or slightly impressed. Then a stroke of genius struck you fast and hard. “Have you ever had a pedicure?” 

The wide blue eyes and quick wash of pallor as the blood left his face before coalescing in his cheeks made you laugh openly. “N-no?” 

The slight stutter of terror didn’t miss you at all. “You want one?” His response of blinking and not much else. “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“But-but, my toes.” It was hard to parse out the source of his exact concern, but he sounded like a little kid being asked to give up his beloved blanky for a quick stint in the laundry. His furrowed brow and hint of a pout made you want to kiss him all over his face and hold him while you reassured him. Admirably, you kept your hands and lips to yourself.

“Will have the time of their life, trust me.” You hoped your smile was reassuring, ”C’mon, it’ll be fun. Certainly more fun than just sitting in the lobby waiting for me to get done. Plus, it’ll be on me. I think you’ll like it.” 

His skeptical look followed him over his shoulder as he was led across the room to the pedi chairs and you were taken over to a table to begin your regular ritual. 

“Cut down?” your nail tech asked as she removed your electric purple gel polish a finger at a time. 

“Please,” you confirmed, though your attention was firmly across the room as Bucky was directed to take off his boots and roll up his pant legs to the knees. They were, unsurprisingly, just as sexy as the rest of him. He looked thoroughly flummoxed and out of his depth, but played along gamely. 

“He’s cute,” she observed in Vietnamese as she carried on flawlessly with her task. All the other techs in the room chimed in with agreements and additional praises for everything from his ‘pretty eyes’ to ‘big, sexy body’. If he only knew how in depth these ladies appreciated his form, he’d probably pass out from embarrassment. 

“Very,” you agreed with a smile, heat suffusing your cheeks totally unbidden. You feared that if he looked over right then, he’d know immediately that you were talking about him, but alas, nothing to be done. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” 

Your snorted giggle was wholly unintentional. “Don’t I wish. He’s not, unfortunately, but I totally would take him if he asked.” 

That answer perked up your tech considerably. “Ooh, that’s too bad. Does that mean he’s single?” 

You shook your head, doing your best not to grimace. “No.” It was hard not to sound petulant, but it was true. “I think he’s seeing someone.” At least, if the amount of Sharon Carter sightings you’d had in his vicinity were anything to go by. That woman was doing her best to hang off him like a poorly fitted suit. 

“Lucky them, I guess.”

“You have no idea.” You shook your head with a sad smile. “The things I would do to have him look at me… see me like that? I’d be an absolute menace. But alas.” You sighed wistfully and shrugged, admiring your fresh overlays as they cured. 

“Pity.” She patted your hand in sympathy before hauling out a massive set of polish color swatches. “Still, it’s good to have a friend, yes?”

“It is.” You nodded as you flipped through the selection to the glitter contingent. “This one please.” You handed her back the swatch for her to pull your color, when something caught your eye. 

It was blue. Bright, metallic blue with turquoise flakes that shimmered like the sun on the open seas. You looked at it and smiled, immediately thinking of the man across the room. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Bucky was still in the pedi chair by the time your hands were done, so you bopped on over to sit at an adjacent work station. His demeanor was lightyears away from the fearful one he’d had coming in, kicked back with eyes closed in utter bliss, his legs wrapped in hot towels and receiving a hot stone massage. “You good, Barnes?”

“Best I’ve been in a while, actually,” he confirmed without opening his eyes, a lazy grin unfurling across his lips. “I feel like you’ve been holding out on me. This is absolute heaven.” 

You took a moment to make eye contact with the tech working on him and handed off the bottle of polish you’d brought over with you. Her startled expression when she’d uncapped the shiny goodness made it difficult to stifle your laughter, but in the end, she just shrugged and nodded. 

“I’m glad you think so. What are you thinking about doing after this?” 

He shrugged. “Hadn’t thought about it, really. Not in the mood to return to the Tower?”

“Not especially.” You watched as the tech applied the bright blue polish with deft, practiced strokes and hit the nails with the UV lights to cure the polish quickly. “You got something in mind?”

“There’s a great Italian place not too far from here on Broome, just off of Mulberry. You wanna go?”

“James Barnes, are you asking me on a date?” your intention to keep your tone teasing and low stakes was entirely undone by your sudden breathlessness. In a bazillion years, this is not how you would have seen your afternoon going. 

“I might be.” Eyes that shimmered like moondust met yours, a tender, playful grin spread across his lips which did nothing at all to improve your breathing situation. “You interested?”

“You better say yes!” Nancy, the manager hollered across the salon from the front desk. 

“If you don’t, I definitely will!” your traitorous nail tech supplied. The rest of the girls in the place all chimed in with various levels of encouragement and teasing. 

“Give me a second to breathe, dang!” You couldn’t stop laughing, both from the giddyness in your chest and the exuberant chaos erupting in the salon. “I’m working on it.”

“Whaddya say, cutie?” 

Your face felt like it was on fire as much from the sudden nickname as it was from the whole room quieting down to await your answer. It was unnerving being so put on the spot, and yet, not enough to change your mind. “I like Italian,” you replied softly. 

“Alright then.” 

Bucky smiling was a rarity that you cherished. The way he beamed in that moment though, was a fricking revelation. It was a good thing you were already sitting down, because that would have absolutely taken out your knees otherwise. 

Once his nail tech turned him loose, he leaned down to put his socks back on, pausing with a puzzled look on his face before carrying on with his task. You’d expected him to freak out or at least have some questions, so his silence on the matter of his newly adorned toes was a bit disconcerting. You weren’t going to bring it up unless he did, though. 

You pulled your wallet out as you went up to the front to settle your bill. It was a bit pricier than you’d anticipated, but seeing the smile on Bucky’s face and spring in his step was more than worth the extra cost. 

“Cảm ơn bạn vì tất cả mọi thứ,” Bucky told Nancy as you signed off on the credit card slip, and you almost tossed the pen. 

“I’m sorry, what?” The blood drained from your head at a speed so fast it left you dizzy. You had absolutely no control of the way your jaw practically unhinged as it dropped open in shock.

Instead of answering you, he turned to address the rest of the room who were watching with undisguised curiosity. “I appreciate everything you did this afternoon. You are all too sweet.” Turning back to you like he hadn’t just set off the verbal equivalent of an incendiary device, he offered you his arm. “You ready, sweetheart?”

Shutting your mouth with an audible click, you nod mutely. In fact, you don’t manage to speak until you’re at least half a block down the street. “You never told me you speak Vietnamese.” 

The smug smirk and equally sexy wink about ended you on the spot. “You never asked.”