A/N- This imagine was inspired by the song Waking up in Vegas by Katy Perry. It's cheesy 00's pop and therefore I love it.
You groaned as you stretched your arms out above your head, smiling at the strip of sun that fell over your skin from the gap in the curtains. You allowed your eyes to drift open, revealing the ceiling, and you smile continued. It would have remained all morning had you not forgotten the man you had brought back to your hotel room the day before. But soon enough you heard him clear his throat, standing awkwardly in the entrance to the room in a pair of trousers and nothing else. You yelped as you scrambled from the bed, grabbing for anything to cover yourself with until you realised that you were wearing a shirt, which you assumed belonged to the man in front of you.
"Hi," he muttered softly, biting down on his lip as he watched you glance around the room in shock. It was indeed your room, and it was filled with your things, your bag was leaning against the wall, your clothes strewn over the back of the chair.
You raised your eyebrows at him, releasing a small scoff. "Hi," you answered him, disbelief etched into your voice as you continued to stare. "Why are you in my room?" you asked him when he just stood there, unmoving.
"I woke up in your bed," he muttered quietly, "you're Y/N, right?" he paused for a moment, watching you nod, your eyebrows still knitted thoroughly together. "I'm James," he added, "my friends call me Bucky." You shifted uncomfortably on the spot as he held his hand out for you to shake, but when you lifted your hand you hesitated, seeing the ring on your wedding finger.
"Fuck," you hummed, pushing past him and over to the vanity in the corner of the room. Sure enough there was a print out from a chapel, you grabbed for it, holding it up to him and shaking your head. "Tell me you didn't marry me," you demanded, though your voice shook slightly, mimicking the movement in your hand as you glared at him.
He looked dumbfounded as he took the paper from your hand, glancing over your shoulder and nodding for you to look back at the table. Hidden under the paper was a photo, printed on glossy paper, of the two of you clinging to one another. "I was so drunk," he started, watching as you sat down on the end of the bed.
"We could get it annulled." He glanced down at you, watching you bury your face into your hands.
"You can't get an annulment after the marriage had been consummated," he told you softly, standing a few feet away and with no clue of how to calm your shaking body. "But I'm happy to sign divorce papers."
You let out a shaking sob, "my mum's gunna be so mad at me," you yelped, wiping furiously at the tears that escaped your eyes. "How could I be so stupid," you spat out suddenly, causing him to jump slightly as you quickly got to your feet, storming towards the bathroom and slamming the door behind you. The sounds of your retching echoed through the door, surrounding Bucky as he followed after you.
"I can go to a drug store if you need something," he called to you, only to hear your release another sob. "Can you open the door?" he asked softly, listening until he heard the lock click open. After a short pause he pushed the door open, settling himself on the edge of the bathtub and glancing down at you. "Is this from the drinks or from the idea of being married to me?" he joked, only for you to shoot him a glare.
"You're a dick," you spat at him, causing him to let out a short chuckle.
You knitted your brows together as you watched him laughing, and he gave you short shrug. "If only you knew how many times someone had told me that," he muttered lightly, leaning forward slightly. "What's your usual hangover cure?"
"Coffee," you told him, "and painkillers."
He nodded slightly, shifting to pat your shoulder lightly before getting back to his feet. "I won't be long," he murmured as he made his way out of the room, leaving you sitting on the bathroom floor, looking like a complete mess.
You sighed as you pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin in the middle of them. Soon enough the door clicked shut and he was gone. Almost thirty minutes had passed, but soon enough you were certain that you had finished throwing up and you ventured back into the bedroom, slumping down onto the bed and staring out of the window. It was, as always, a beautiful day on the strip, and yet it did nothing to improve your mood or your head ache.
It was then that the door to the room clicked open again, and in came Bucky with a dorky smile on his lips, holding the coffee aloft with pride when you turned to look at him. "Honey, I'm home," he called, causing you to let out a bubble of laughter. He crossed the room, pressing one of the coffees into your hand and watching as you took a tentative sip, only for you to grimace. "Sugar?"
"Yes, darling?" you teased, smiling when he snorted slightly, and holding your hand out for him to give you the sugar packet he was now waving at you.
It was then that you noticed the bag in his other hand, paper and almost clear from the grease inside. "Hope you like McDonalds," he murmured softly, placing it on the table and smiling as you got to your feet so quickly that you almost spilt your drink on yourself.
"God, you really are marriage material," you chuckled, placing a single fry into your mouth.
He raised his eyebrows at you, "you are easy to please," he told you softly, and you answered with a small shrug.
"Where I'm from that's rare," you mumbled softly, "and a good thing."
"And where would that be?" he asked you, slumping down beside you as you picked through one of the burgers, pulling out the bits you didn't like, only to watch in shock as he took them out of the wrapper and put them straight in his mouth.
"Manhattan," you answered him softly, stifling another bout of laughter.
"Fancy," he chuckled, shifting to lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"Hardly," you told him, "self-made business woman," you continued and he quirked an eyebrow in surprise.
"I'm from Brooklyn," he added, and you shifted to look down at him.
"You ever come into the real New York?" you asked, biting down lightly on your bottom lip when he scoffed.
He suddenly sat back up, "I'll have you know, New York City would be nothing without Brooklyn."
You chuckled, "whatever you say."
"If you aren't careful I may take offence," he told you, a teasing tone still flowing through his words.
"That's my intention, dork," you laughed, scrunching up the wrapper from your burger and throwing it at him and you continued to chuckle. He gave you a look of faux shock, bringing his hand up to his chest and shaking his head at you.
"Well, never have I been so insulted," Bucky told you, putting on his best southern belle voice, and causing another shock of laughter to burst through your lips.
The two of you sat like that for a while longer, your laughter dying out and reality coming back to you both. "At least it'll be an easy commute for divorce proceedings," you uttered softly, feeling his hand land on the small of your back.
"Okay," he huffed lightly, "just hear me out before you shut my idea down." You twisted slightly to look down at him, giving him a short nod to continue. "What if we don't tell anyone for a while," he started, "we could just see where this goes and then if we don't think it's working out we can go through all the court stuff."
You scoffed at his words, "you're insane," you exclaimed at him, waving your hands in his direction, "I married a mad man."
"You already said that I was marriage material, what is there to lose?"
A sigh broke through your lips and it was as if all the fight had left you, "you're right."
"I normally am."
You rolled your eyes as you glanced down at him, "do you want to go to dinner with me tonight?"
He shrugged slightly, "what have you got in mind?" he asked, sitting back up and slinging his arm around you shoulders.
"I was thinking the hotel buffet, unless you've got any better ideas," you muttered, sending him a shrug of your own as you smirked at him.
"Buffet is perfect," he told you softly, giving you a sweet smile before getting to his feet. "Be ready by 8. I'll even pick you up," he told you, and you felt the blush rise in your cheeks as you watched him back out of the room.
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