TP

You had known Bucky Barnes for as long as you could remember, which was unfortunate considering he had spent most of your childhood making your life miserable. Bucky had always known exactly how to get under your skin. He would poke and prod at you, tug lightly on your hair, tease you about anything he could find, and push until big, fat, brutally resisted tears welled in your eyes. Then came that mean, satisfied smile as he called you a crybaby. It usually ended the same way: Steve sternly telling his best friend to lay off his little sister before walking you home himself. Years later, somehow, things had only gotten worse. The three of you now attended the same college and lived in the same building. You had your own apartment, while Steve and Bucky lived directly next door—which meant Bucky somehow knew everything happening in your life. Who visited your apartment. When you came home. What parties you went to. Who you talked to. And Steve was no help. Overprotective as ever, your older brother was constantly hovering, while Bucky seemed determined to make living next to him its own personal hell. What you didn’t know was that Bucky Barnes had been hopelessly in love with you since he was eight years old. Unfortunately for everyone involved, he had absolutely no idea how to act like it. So instead, he teased you. Annoyed you. Inserted himself into your business whenever possible. And now that you were in college, popular, and suddenly surrounded by people who clearly noticed how beautiful you were, Bucky had developed an entirely new problem. Jealousy. And Bucky Barnes was very, very bad at hiding it.