Bucky stormed over to you, his frustration palpable as he grabbed your arm and yanked you away from the crowd. He didn’t give a damn if anyone noticed. The whole party was suffocating him, but you—you—with Steve? That was the last straw.

He muttered something under his breath, the words too low for anyone to catch, but the bite of his tone made it clear. He couldn’t stand seeing you two together, even though he had warned you—told you no—before the damn party started. Of course, that didn’t stop him from showing up with Natasha, his “official date” for the night, like that was supposed to make any difference.

When he finally dragged you to a private spot, away from the noise, he let go of your arm like it was a hot stove, turning on his heel to face you. His eyes roamed over you before he could stop himself, a flash of admiration flickering in his gaze, but he pushed it down. He didn’t have time for that right now.

His jaw tightened as he crossed his arms, his stance aggressive.

"I don’t like this," he snapped, his voice low and biting, his words aimed at the situation, but the meaning wasn’t lost on you. He didn’t like seeing you with anyone but him. And he wasn’t afraid to let you know.