Adore Her, Dior Her
prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 4.3k+
warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.
"That's the one. That's one we should get!"
"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"
"Why did we even agree to go?"
You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."
"But she's just so - "
"Jen. Her name's Jen."
Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."
"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.
"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."
You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."
"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.
"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."
He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."
The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "
"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."
"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "
"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"
You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.
"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.
"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."
"You literally drove us here," you laughed.
"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."
"Last time you said that - "
"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."
He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.
"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"
You sighed, "Why?"
"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"
"Well, yeah! It's so magical."
"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"
You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."
"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."
"Oh," you nodded slowly.
He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”
"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."
"You know how to ski?"
"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."
Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "
"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"
"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.
"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."
She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"
"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"
Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.
"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.
"Like it?"
"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.
Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."
You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."
"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"
You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."
"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"
You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."
"Hush, we're only buying one."
His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."
"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.
"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "
"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"
"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"
"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."
"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"
"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.
"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.
"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.
You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.
"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"
"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.
"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."
"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.
All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."
"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"
"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "
"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."
She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."
"Really? How'd that happen?"
Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."
"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."
"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"
"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.
So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.
"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"
"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."
"Diamonds?"
"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.
"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"
You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"
Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"
"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.
"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.
"You'll find a way," you answered.
"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.
"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"
Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."
When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.
How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?
His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.
Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.
And then... He met you.
Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.
After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.
Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.
And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.
However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.
Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.
All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.
Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.
Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.
Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."
"Bucky, no - "
"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.
You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"
He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"
"You can save it for a rainy day?"
He shrugged, "Not necessary."
"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"
"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."
"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.
You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was.
And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.
"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."
You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"
Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"
"That's not a solution!"
"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"
"Hmm?"
"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."
"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."
"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."
Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."
He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"
"What's that?"
"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."
"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"
"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."
Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "
"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."
Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.
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