The soft glow of the TV screen bathed the dimly lit living room as Bucky sat on the couch, controller in hand, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. The rapid clicking of buttons and the occasional muttered curse under his breath were the only sounds filling the space, aside from the game’s action-packed soundtrack. You stood at the doorway, arms crossed, pouting slightly as you watched him.

He’d been at it for hours. At first, you didn’t mind—everyone needed their downtime, and God knew Bucky deserved some mindless fun. But now? Now, you were bored. And needy. And, most importantly, you wanted his attention.

You padded over to the couch and plopped down beside him, pressing yourself against his side. He barely acknowledged you, just shifting slightly to make more room. Not good enough.

“Bucky,” you whined, dragging out his name as you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Are you seriously going to ignore me all night?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed absentmindedly, eyes glued to the screen. His fingers moved swiftly over the controller, body tensed as he focused on whatever virtual battle he was caught up in. “Almost done, doll.”

That was a lie. You’d heard that same excuse an hour ago.

With a huff, you swung a leg over his lap, effectively str-ddling him, forcing him to at least acknowledge your presence. He stiffened for half a second but still didn’t look away from the game. “Babe, I love you, but if you make me lose this match, we’re breaking up,” he muttered, his voice laced with exaggerated warning.

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?” You leaned in closer, lips barely an inch from his ear. “You’d break up with me over a video game?”