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mgparker · 1 year

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recruitment gone… right?

platonic!steven grant/marc spector x teenage!reader

summary: who in their right mind sends a teenager to recruit a dangerous vigilante all on their own? oh sam and fucking bucky.

warnings: teenage avenger reader, inaccuracies, clueless steven being an overall mess and a huge cap fan, violence, swearing, gen z shit? perhaps idk, 2k word count

request: ‘can you do a father figure Marc Spector/Steven Grant x A teenage avenger who was sent to recruit him? I imagine the reader being a typical Gen Z kid with a sarcastic sense of humor, but meaning well.’

notes: loosely based off this request i got MONTHS ago. i’m so sorry it’s taken forever this has literally been in my drafts for a year. not a whole lot of father figure-ing going on but i think it’s a funny little neutral recruitment blurb/one-shot. enjoy. also not sure if this is gen-z enough but i was not going to make this obnoxiously “relatable”

“It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Sam, I want you to think about what you just said. Then think about who you’re talking to. And then… consider the possibility that your plan might actually work if you send Barnes.”

A distant voice shouted through the speaker of your phone. “No can do, kid. Recruitment is below my paygrade now!”

You rolled your eyes, shuffling down a busy sidewalk in the midst of London. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I’m talking to the big champs now.”

You heard Sam chuckle in amusement, and you could imagine him shaking his head at your words. “You know what you gotta do. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can get back to base. Kick some ass with the big champs.”

“Yeah, yeah,” it was time to get serious. “Got it, Wilson. I’ll check in later.”

Instead, it was Bucky who answered. “You’ve got this, squirt!”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even give Sam a chance to get a word in before you were ending the call, stuffing your phone into your pocket and narrowing in on the bus stop ahead.

This is stupid, you thought as you waited a safe distance away. You couldn’t risk your target spotting you before you could properly assess them. Who in their right mind sends a teenager—a freaking teenager—to recruit one of England’s most dangerous vigilantes?

You’re not scared—you were far more than capable to defend yourself, even against the famed Moon Knight—but it feels out of your way, something you’ve never been asked to do. But of course, as an Avenger, this was your duty.

You couldn’t help but think of this whole thing as a personal attack. With Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson assuming the mantle of interim leaders of the Avengers (or rather what remains of them), this whole mission seemed like their version of a practical joke.

Those two loved you with all their heart, you didn’t doubt it, but they take the role of “fun uncles” a bit too seriously.

But anyway, this recruitment... This isn’t fun. Not in the slightest.

This is like being a salesperson.

Shudder.

Finally, you catch sight of your target—Steven Grant, an extremely sleepy, stumbling gift-shoppist who had appeared at the bus stop surprisingly early for once.

He seems gentle enough, guard mostly down, clutching his bag with a paranoid grip but that was the only thing tense about him. He’s technically older than you, not ridiculously so, but a bit younger than Sam.

You watch as his lips start forming some words; it’s subtle, nothing anyone would really notice unless they were analyzing him piece by piece like you currently were.

Ah. You realized with a pleased smile. Steven Grant and Marc Spector are working together.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of the bus arriving, squeaking loudly as it stopped in the street.

Showtime.

There was a click in your brain, or that’s what it felt like at least, and a quick scanning of your surroundings made it easy to instantly blend in.

Steven Grant was having a decent morning. He actually woke up in time, ate a decent breakfast, and rushed out of the house with ten minutes to spare.

Even Marc had been pleasant this morning, making unusual small talk as Steven went about his business, getting ready for work.

And everything was well. Up until now—as he stood in the bus, trying to keep himself from falling asleep on the passengers around him, despite the extra shot of espresso he’d slipped into his drink this morning.

Steven.

He jolted awake, pulling his head away from a man’s shoulder with a small ‘sorry!’

But before he could doze off once more, something odd came over him. A strange tingling feeling, as if he was being watched.

It snapped the drowsiness right out of his system, eyeing everyone suspiciously.

You feel it too, don’t you? Something isn’t right.

“What—” He mumbled quietly, searching for the source but coming up emptyhanded.

There was nothing peculiar or odd about his fellow commuters.

So, he continued about his day, feeling that unsettling eye on him at all times but unaware as to its source.

It was only when his shift was over, that he was walking home, that he decided this charade had gone on for far too long.

Despite Marc’s pleas to let him front, Steven stopped in his dead tracks, away from any curious eyes.

“Oi, who’s there?”

Great job, Steven. If that isn’t the most cliché thing to say before the main character gets killed in a horror movie. Marc sighed.

“Shut up,” hissed Steven quietly. “You know I don’t watch horror movies—”

Steven blinked and suddenly you’re there, standing in front of him as if you’d been there the entire time.

“AH!”

The scream echoed down the alley, high-pitched and nearly startling you into a similar yelp.

But you were quite used to your presence spooking others, it’s a part of your abilities that you’d never been able to control.

Chest heaving and cheeks tinted with embarrassment, Steven gave you a suspicious glare.

“Oh, it’s—it’s just a kid,” he tried to brush off his embarrassing reaction.

You scoffed, a bruise to your ego. “Not just a kid.”

“Well, I know what I’m seeing,” Steven argued. “And you look like a child—“

“Firstly,” you’re staring at Mr. Knight’s suit, taken aback by the change in his appearance that you’d apparently triggered by startling him so bad. “I’m seventeen. Second, I thought you had a whole—“

You aimlessly motioned around your head in a sort of halo way, confusing the ever fuck out of Steven who just stood there blankly.

“A whole w-what?” He gaped, desperate to know what you— a complete stranger — had to say about his kickass suit.

“You know, a whole cape thing goin’ on.”

Ha! Colonel Sanders.

Steven wished there was a way to punch Marc.

“Now, you’re just talking about my lesser counterpart,” Steven shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he had just been offended to the core.

“Ouch, hard feelings?”

Steven pulled his lips to the side. “You could say that— wait. How do you know about—?”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” you interrupted. “I was sent here on behalf of an organization that is really interested in having you join our ranks. Normally, they’d send someone else but you’re stuck with me so—“

“What organization? What ranks? You’re hiring?” I guess we’re both interrupting each other now. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Even if the task was annoying, you wouldn’t be returning to base with a new recruit if you hit him with a bunch of attitude.

Patience was not your strongest virtue. “Not exactly. As soon as you put that blade down, maybe we can talk some more.”

Steven looked down with a jolt, as if he hadn’t realized he’d been white-knuckling the weapon since you appeared.

Slowly, he started to store the blade before Marc cut in hastily. Hello? Are you seriously letting a kid tell you what to do? A kid who appeared out of thin air?

Steven caught Marc’s glare in the reflection of a small puddle, the road damp from London’s regular showers. He looked much more menacing than Steven, even with his half-assed suit.

He hadn’t said it yet, but Steven knew Marc was aching to take over. And it was probably the smartest option- Steven wasn’t the best at confrontation.

“Don’t hurt a minor please,” he pleaded quietly. Marc narrowed his eyes at the notion. But he nodded his head dismissively.

With a sigh, Steven allowed Marc to front.

All the while, you minded your own business as well as you could, staring at the sky suspiciously. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sam had sent Redwing to spy on you. Not because he didn’t trust you of course, but because him and Bucky loved to get a laugh in whenever they could.

“Alright, let’s cut the bullshit. Who sent you? Harrow?”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from how fast your head snapped forward.

The suit was different, cape billowing behind him, and eyes even whiter than before. They seemed to glow-- no, they were glowing-- and glare into the depths of your soul. You were almost intimidated.

“Who the hell is Harrow? Absolutely not. Since you asked so nicely, I was sent on behalf of Captain America.”

Captain America? He gripped the crescent blade tighter.

He considered your words carefully, staring at you with the utmost suspicion. Lip curling up, head already starting to shake in disapproval, annoyance consuming him altogether—

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s- that’s amazing!”

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. “It is pretty cool,” you shrugged thirty minutes later, chewing through a particularly large bite of your warm bagel. You were sat in the corner of a small, dingy bakery. What it lacked in aesthetics, the bakery definitely made up for in flavor.

“Do you think you could maybe, like I dunno, introduce us?” Steven asked with an excitement that barely kept him still in his seat.

You’re surprised he hasn’t gathered the attention of everyone else in the bakery, but for once, you’re not the one worried about being on the opposite end of a judgmental eye.

Being an Avenger in these post-Blip days isn’t as easy as it was before… stack that on top of being a ‘child’ and it’s the perfect recipe for disaster.

‘They’re too young!’

‘They can barely contain their abilities!’

‘The Avengers already ruined our lives before! Why should we trust a child?!’

Even if you denied it a million times, there was always a small part of you that craved their approval. Their vote of trust…Maybe this mission would help with that, once they learned that it was you who got the infamous bad-guy-turned-good Moon Knight to join the world’s mightiest superheroes…

Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly you who got Steven to willingly agree. But there was absolutely no way in hell you were ever telling Sam that it was his pull that got the deal sealed.

“Sure,” you smiled back at Steven who just about died at your response. The coffee in his mug jostled out and splashed onto the table. “Big Captain America fan?”

“As of late,” Steven grinned. “So, when do we leave? Is—” He gasped suddenly and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is Captain America coming to pick me up?”

Jesus Christ. Marc groaned. This was a fucking mistake.

Steven ignored him and looked at you expectantly.

You glanced up from your phone where you’d been rapidly typing something up. You did a double-take as you processed his question.

“Absolutely,” you deadpanned. “He’ll send a car for you. Probably meet you at the airport with his private jet.”

Steven’s eyes grew wider with every word. Marc was scowling in the reflection of the window behind you.

“Bollocks...” he breathed, staring down at his lap in disbelief.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I don’t even know what to say. I mean, who—who would’ve thought they would send a seventeen-year-old to recruit little ole me—”

You saw something click in his brain. He looked up with glazed over irritation. “...you’re... you’re not being serious.”

“Of course, I’m not being serious, Grant. I got here alone and I’m more than capable of getting us back to base. You can save the fangirling for when we finally touch down alright? He’ll meet us there.”

Steven pursed his lips at you.

Rolling your eyes, you finished your text and locked your phone with a click. “I’m being serious this time.”

Excitement poured into his gaze again. You’re not sure how Marc feels about it, only that after explaining yourself in very, very specific detail, he was open to the discussion. But it must be a mutual decision at this point. You doubt Steven would’ve gotten this far if his counterpart was fighting against it.

“Marc is on board?”

“Absolutely.”

Don’t lie. I’m regretting this more and more each second.

Steven continued. “Should I... should I pack my bags?”

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea,” you agreed nonchalantly.

“... now?”

You tapped your phone and glanced at the time. “If you want to make our flight in less than an hour, I’d say so.”

“Bollocks!” Steven exclaimed, nearly knocking the table over on his mad dash out the door.

You snickered as he slammed into a lady on his way out.

—————> the big champs + bucky

you: i’m expecting a promotion when i get back. and for you two to get off my ass already

redwing’s bitch: I told you it wasn’t going to be too hard. Proud of you, kid

you: 😐

you: thanks i guess... expect a meet and greet when we get there. he’s probably going to be up your ass. steven’s your biggest fan. marc not so much.

you: and don’t worry bucky, they didn’t mention you at all <3

bucky bitchy barnes: fuck off. I have a fanbase. It’s on tweet.

you: wtf is tweet

bucky bitchy barnes: Don’t fuck with me you know what tweet is.

you: my brother in christ... you mean to say twitter :,)

bucky bitchy barnes: I hate, no DETEST, your generation.

ha ha

— elle <3

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captaincapsicle83 · 2 months

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The Little Pests

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary- Sam’s friend, an IT worker for Stark Industries turned new recruit, has a crush on an avenger. Being a good wingman (hehe, get it?) does everything he can to get the reader and Bucky closer, even enlisting the help of other avengers.

It’s almost obnoxious actually.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (main romance, rest platonic), Sam Wilson x reader, Clint Barton x reader, avengers x reader

TW: Cursing, Sam and Clint being silly, “suicide” but like, it’s a bobs burgers reference (you’ll see)

A/N: I was bored, so I pushed aside EVERY OTHER WIP I should be working on (about eight separate ones), left all my drafts open, completely ignored my old, geriatric ideas, and wrote something off a whim

Behold, my capricious work of art

“And, this is our kitchen, that’s our toaster. The toaster is always broken don’t try to use it,” Sam says. His right arm is on your shoulder, the left gesturing around the room, showing you around he compound.

“Why doesn’t it-” You’re cut off by a man with light brown hair swatting the toaster with his fist.

“You whore! I want my poptart!” He grunts.

“He’s why,” Sam shakes his head, and rolls his eyes. Clint Barton; Hawkeye, Destroyer of toasters.

Clint whips around, disgust evident on his face, “Oh, no, no, no, Sir. Don’t act like I’m suddenly the only one to blame here. Take a look at Mr. Banner and his anger issues, the cyborg, or, better yet Sammy, look in the fucking mirror.”

You decided right then and there that you liked Clint. “Sammy” scowled at Barton, before motioning for you to sit at the table. He had already shown you around the rest of the compound, including your room, making the kitchen your last stop.

As Sam rummaged through the cupboards, Clint sat in a chair across from you, groaning and huffing like an old dad with aching joints (Clint couldn’t be more than in his thirties or fourties’).

“Are you here to fix the toaster?” He asks you, his voice sad and his eyes even sadder. He was like those little animals with big eyes of pleading in Disney films.

“No, I’m sorry. I could try,” you suggest the last part, and he perks up. He sits up straight in his chair, rather than sprawling, and shifted to drumming his hands on the table.

“Met anybody else yet?” He asks, Sam still looking for food with not much luck.

“Nada, just you and Sam,” You say, truthfully. You had honestly expected more traffic, but were just the same grateful to be mostly undisturbed.

“Oh, good, you’re lucky. After us, it all goes down hill,” He “tsk-tsk”’s. “Let’s give you a run down. There’s Bruce and Tony, they’re our brains. They don’t sleep. They’re, like, tier two after Sam and I. Also tier 2, we got Natasha and Wanda. They’re scary. I will not elaborate. Tier 3, Vision, Thor, Rhodes, Spider-Kid. Mostly uneventful around the compound, Visions here the most, other three not as much. Then there’s our senior citizens in the bottom tier. Steve and Bucket. If they were a spice, they’d be flour.”

The way Clint was talking, it felt like the scene in mean girls where Janice and Damien find Cary in the bathroom. You were giggly at his little hand motions and theatrical way of painting the scene.

“What makes you and Sam tier 1?” You ask, Sam coming over with two jars of peanut butter, spoons sticking out of them.

“Birds!” They both yell to each other. When you make a face at Sam’s offer of a jar of peanut butter, Clint takes it right away. You watch in wonder as the two bicker with each other, getting the feeling they were the only ones who found themselves to be “tier 1.”

***

You had been with the avengers for, say, about 7 months, finding it easy to make friends and have fun between missions and SHIELD duties.

“Well,” Clint was saying to you and Sam, the three of you sitting at the compounds dining table, coloring with crayons on printer paper. “I’m glad you two are having fun, because I am going to kill myself.”

He holds up a poorly manufactured picture of a duck. You all convulge into a set of late night giggles.

It was four am, and you had all just returned early from a mission. After a mission, especially one where you could sleep on the way back, you sometimes found it nice to unwind with your teammates.

As you all tried to compose yourselves, you didn’t even notice someone else enter the kitchen part of the kitchen, not until Sam called out to them that is.

“Hey, Buck, what’s up?”

“Hmm? Nothing. Coffee,” He looked startled, then straight back to basically being dead tired. The bags under his eyes looked like they just took a trip to Costco.

He looks reluctant, and like his mind has to do a lot of mental gymnastics to convince himself to do so, but ultimately he sits down at your table.

You’re drawing a picture of some birds (well, what was supposed to look like birds) in a little bird house. Your heart was beating about 10 decibels faster, and your hands became more unsteady.

Clint and Sam both privately took note of your change in demeanor. The way instead of using circle motions either your crayons, as you had been, you were pressing harder and going up and down. And how you simply just layer them on the table rather than back in the box. And the short sweet glances sent to one new person at the table….

***

Private messages between Sam Wilson and Clint Barton that you should never have seen, had you not been playing candy crush on Clint’s phone one Saturday morning. You’re a snooper, you snoop, it’s what you do.

Wednesday 5:36 am

Clint: Are you sleeping bbb

Sam: that best better not stand for what I think it does…

Clint: Y/n left me after you and Bucky did. Think the girl needed time to fantasize

Sam: YOU NOTICED TOO

Clint: I see everything, always

Sam: ominous

Sam: Clinton have you ever watched the bachorlette

Clint: I loveeee where this is going

Sam: I think she has a little crush

Sam: we should set them up

Clint: I can already see the kids

Clint: they’ll be names Sam and Clint of course

Clint: after us

Saturday, 9:29 am

Unread

Sam: did you destroy my fucking coin master village 17 times???

Sam: Barton, your ass is grass and I’m gonna mow it

***

Dead. You promised Clint and Sam they were dead.

At first, you thought it was just a joke. Until the advancements started.

It was Thursday, the team gathering for a dinner, as they did every once in awhile. As soon as you entered the room, you saw Clint and Sam basically playing musical chairs to keep an empty seat open next to Bucky Barnes.

“Are…Are you two okay?” Steve asked, genuine fear and concern on his face.

“Totally.”

“One-hundred percent.”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“You’re acting weird captain.”

Steve sits, slack jawed, at a loss for a response. As you walk towards the table, your shoulders are grabbed by Clint, who is saying in a sickeningly sweet and chipper voice, “Y/n! Goodness, great to see you! Sit here! There’s a spot next to Bucky! You know Bucky! You love Bucky!”

You were a *mess* the entire dinner, unable to completely focus on anything but breathing patterns.

As the evening was coming to a close and others were dismissing themselves, you made cold hard eye contact with Clint, seated directly across from you. His hands were folded on the table like an innocent school child.

“Barton,” you said, your voice stern. “Wanna play Chinese Checkers?”

He shakes his head violently, but says, “Sam does too.”

Sam gets up from the table, so fast, his chair knocks over and silverware clatters.

You quickly jump up, chasing him down the hall. Clint follows, brandishing a phone camera, a will, and a way.

The rest of the group was frozen now, looking in bewilderment at what was going on. Or rather, their lack of knowledge of what the hell was going on?

“Anybody have input?” Tony asks after a long silence. Everyone looks equally lost.

They all look when a thud sounds in the direction your trio went.

***

Bucky and Steve are walking track to their rooms, later that evening. Steve had mission reports to do, and Bucky had thoughts to process and a diary to write in.

“So, what do you think of the new girl?” Steve pokes the bear, hoping to get a rise out of his friend.

“Hmm, oh. I dunno. She’s nice, I guess,” Bucky shrugs, and Steve’s goofy little smile grows like the grinch’s heart.

“Really? Because you look liked you were having an awful lot of thoughts tonight at dinner. And, you know, you stare at her long enough every other day…”

“Do not.”

“Do so.”

Bucky stares at Steve, unknowing of what to do in this situation. He shrugs again.

“So what?”

“So? So you should, oh, I don’t know, have a real conversation with her instead of just breathing into each others general directions. It’s nauseating having to watch Sam and Clint push you guys into the same space.”

Tonight may have been the first time you noticed, but in truth that kind thing happened in many many scenarios. Even before Clint and Sam connected that dots that you liked him.

They wanted their ship to sail.

***

“You took a shower!?” Clint says to Bucky, in a low and shocked voice. He held an incredulous look on his face, one Bucky wanted to smack right off.

“Yeah, try it sometime,” Bucky quipped.

“Y/n’s in her room,” Clint took a sip of his coffee. She has loads of paperwork. Probably will be in there all day.”

Bucky’s mouth opens and then shuts, not wanting to know why Clint was helping him. In truth, he wasn’t. Clint was helping you.

Within minutes, Bucky was outside your door, giving himself the cutest, peppiest of peptalks. Albeit, in his head because he could not handle the embarrassment of the e door opening to you seeing him babbling like a madman.

So when you did open the door, he tried flashing a warm smile. At the sight of it, you thought you would simply just faint. Right there, thud on the floor.

While your brain was debating whether you would prefer internal or external bleeding of the skull (internal, you decided, wouldn’t mess up your hair) Bucky cleared his throat.

You looked into his blinding blue eyes, the way a deer looks into headlights (meaning any minute you would get hit by the car…)

“Hi,” Bucky breathes out.

“Hi,” you say, your voice cracking.

You wanted to choke yourself out.

“I have something to tell you,” he starts. “Or- or I wanna talk to you.”

“…oh…” FUCKING CHRIST! Oh?? That was the best you had???

“Look, y/n I’ve sorta…I like you, quite a lot. And I’ve been nervous to talk to you or tell you about it, because I really don’t like opening up about my feelings. But-”

You cut him off by pouring out, “Ilikeyoutoo!”

“You- oh…Well…this wasn’t as bad as I had thought then.”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah, guess not.”

He doesn’t say anything, the two of you staring into each others eyes. He starts to lean in, his perfect face getting closer to yours. The action feels magnetic as you lean closer.

You take in his features. His brow, his chiseled jawline. The symmetrical two sides to his face, like if you took a meat clever down the center, you’d have matching halves.

Just as you can feel his breathe on your lips, right before the two of you can make contact, you both jolt apart at the sound.

Clint falls from your ceiling, Sam landing on top of him. The metal grate that filtrated the air in your room was below them, broken ceiling tiles, pink insulation and regret strewn about your flooring.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #sam wilson #clint barton #platonic #romantic #bucky barnes x female reader #avengers x reader

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

Text

Can We Keep Him Pleeeease?

Platonic Sam Wilson x gn!reader

The youngest super soldier brings home an unusual pet.

Warnings: swearing, Sam is basically reader’s dad

WC: 1.4k

“What the fuck is that?!”

“A smoothie.” Y/N stood awkwardly in the middle of Sam’s living room, a squirming bundle wrapped tightly in their arms, with one hand clutching an obviously empty smoothie cup.

“Oh ok, so just a smoothie then. I obviously wasn’t talking about the FUCKING ANIMAL YOU HAVE IN YOU HANDS?!” Sam threw his arms into the air in frustration and gestured wildly at the gray snout now poking from the hoodie Y/N had wrapped it in.

“Why are we yelling?” Bucky groaned, stumbling from his bedroom and almost running into the Captain. Y/N shoved the cold snout back into the fabric, receiving a grumble in reply.

“Look, a bird!” They shouted quickly and pointed over his shoulder, effectively distracting the super soldier for a couple seconds, which was more than enough time for them to turn and make a mad dash to their room.

The younger avenger sighed deeply, already regretting inviting the teen hero to live with him and Bucky during their summer break from college. He winced as he heard their bedroom door slam shut, rocking the house with the force. Two super soldiers in his home, what could go wrong?

“There’s no bird.” Bucky whined sadly.

“How have you survived this long?”

Bucky shrugged. “I spent most of my life frozen.”

——————

“Ok and here’s a temporary bed for you until I buy you a new one. Or you can sleep with me, it’s your choice. Now, is there anything else you need?” Y/N’s voice was muffled through their door but Sam could hear it clear enough if he pushed his ear against the wood at just the right angle.

He had already ruled out a bird, a frog, and a fish, but everything else was fair game. He was ever so slightly terrified that they had brought home an alligator and he couldn’t put it past them. Sam shivered at the memory of them appearing on the local news after ‘rescuing’ a crocodile from the zoo a few years back. And their defense had simply been ‘she looked lonely’.

“Food! Yes, I have some food for you already. But don’t tell Bucky I’m taking his salmon. He wanted to cook it tonight but we all know that he can’t cook to save his life so this will be a mercy for that poor fish. You stay here and I’ll be back in a second.” Sam didn’t bother stepping away from the entryway, only standing up straight with his arms crossed over his chest, his face set in a disapproving frown that only tired dads could pull off.

Y/N jumped slightly as they opened their door and was met with Captain America’s chest. “What’s gucci, Sam?” The door quickly shut behind them, blocking Sam’s view into the room.

“What animal do you have in there?”

“There is no animal in my room, what are you talking about? I think the added responsibility of being America’s greatest superhero has made you go crazy.”

Sam could actually feel his blood pressure rising. “Y/N.”

“Why would I bring an animal home? Bucky is pretty much like three dogs worth of animal so why would I need another pet?” They were rambling now.

“Tell me what’s in your bedroom or I’ll send you to live with Bruce.” They stopped, their eyes narrowing on the slightly taller man.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” They held his gaze for another minute, silently weighing their options. To live with Bruce meant more freedom with animals, sure but they didn’t know if they could put up with his yoga and ‘breathing exercises’ for months on end. Y/N relented.

“Fine but please, give him a chance.”

Y/N slipped back into the small bedroom designated as theirs but left the door open so Sam could follow. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself for the hell he was about to walk into, and then stepped over the threshold.

The young super soldier was on their knees at the foot of their bed, carefully lifting the yet to be identified pet into their arms. They cooed at the creature, rocking slightly before turning around.

“Sam, meet Jeff the land shark. Jeff, meet Sam.” Huge black eyes stared back up at him from Y/N’s arms, observing the man before it’s large mouth broke into what Sam guessed was a grin, exposing rows of razor sharp teeth. It Jeff wiggled in their arms, pleased with the new person in its space.

Y/N smiled brightly alongside the shark-hybrid thing. “Look how cute he is!” They squealed, hugging him tightly to their chest. Jeff, quite pleased with the attention, grunted happily, his four short limbs waggling around, along with his tail, which seemed to be at least as long as his stout body.

“You’re such a perfect boy aren’t you? Yes you are. You’re my perfect boy.” Sam didn’t know what he was more disturbed by, the shark creature or the fact that this teen, who he had witnessed punch a man so hard, his body flew through five walls of solid concrete, was baby-talking said shark creature.

Jeff’s triangular snout pressed into their pudgy cheek, nosing at their flesh affectionately. “I um- what? I have so many questions.”

“If I answer them, will you let me keep him?”

“No.” Sam said firmly, eyes still fixed on Jeff.

“But Saaaaaaam.”

“No buts Y/N. You brought a dangerous animal into this house without my permission.”

They turned away slightly, shielding Jeff. “You brought Bucky home without my permission so I think we’re even.” Jeff propped his thick head against their shoulder so he could continue to look at Sam, his tail wagging wildly beneath him.

“That’s different, as much as I hate to say it, Bucky is a person.”

“Ha! I told you I would get you to admit it!” Came from the other side of the house.

“Shut up Bucky!” They both shouted in unison.

“You can’t keep him.”

“Pleeeeeease.”

“No.”

“I’ll be good! I’ll wash your car! I’ll go on runs with you! I’ll even do your laundry!”

“Y/N.”

“Sam.”

“You can’t keep him.”

Y/N grumbled something under their breath, tucking their face into where Jeff’s neck would be. “What was that?” Sam raised an eyebrow at them.

“I said Tony would let me keep him.” Sighing deeply, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Tony also let you regularly jump out of planes without a parachute.”

“So I really can’t keep him?” Their voice trembled with barely contained tears, Sam’s kryptonite. They clung tightly to Jeff who was now looking at them curiously, concerned whines emanating from him. Fat tears hung to their lashes as their eyes slowly went bloodshot and their chest hiccupped.

“I can barely stand Alpine and I don’t think Jeff would like cats.” They’ll understand logic right? Sam wondered. Y/N’s eyes dropped to the floor, absolutely heartbroken.

And as if summoned, said white cat strolled into the room without a care in the world. “Brrr?” She chirped. Alpine tilted her head at her second favourite person, as if questioning why she hadn’t been picked up yet, like she usually would have when she wandered into Y/N’s room.

Jeff copied her movement as best he could while still being smothered by the teen. Her blue eyes fixed themselves on the shark. With little hesitation, she launched herself up, landing gracefully on Y/N’s opposite shoulder. Sam froze, already coming up with explanations as to why Bucky’s prized cat had been devoured by a ‘land shark’.

But instead of the bloodbath he expected, Alpine nuzzled into his cold skin, the tip of her tail flicking happily. Jeff grinned once more and leaned his head into the cat, accepting the affection.

And when Sam looked back up at Y/N, they were smiling victoriously, all evidence of tears gone from their face. He knew he was screwed.

“Fine, you can keep the damn shark but don’t expect me to look after it. Jeff is your responsibility.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” They bounced around the room, both animals hanging on for dear life. Sam couldn’t help but smile at their pure joy of having a new pet.

“Go on and get some food for him and I’ll bring you to PetSmart tomorrow for more supplies. Also, where did you even find him?"

Y/N shrugged. "Side of the road."

"I'm not even surprised. Alright, go do what you need to do, kid."

“You’re the best! C’mon Jeff, I have to introduce you to Bucky!”

And as they ran out of the room, Sam swore he had never heard a grown man scream that loudly before in his life.

“Is that a fucking shark?!”

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literaryavenger · 1 month

Text

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related.

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training.

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch.

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity.

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do.

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked.

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down.

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing.

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo.

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days.

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely.

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life.

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it.

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates.

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me.

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear.

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with.

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?”

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!”

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again.

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

974 notes · View notes

book-place-incorrect-quotes · 7 months

Text

Y/N: Buck, please keep an eye on Sam. He’s gonna say something stupid and get punched

Bucky: Sure, I’d love to see Sam get punched

Y/N: Try again

Bucky: *sighing* I’ll stop Sam from getting punched

Y/N: Correct

#source: brooklyn 99 #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu incorrect quotes #avengers incorrect quotes #avengers x reader #avengers #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader platonic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader platonic #bucky barnes

886 notes · View notes

neonovember · 19 days

Note

Request: Sam Wilson x younger, platonic! reader

Plot: Reader relaxing around Sam’s place in Louisiana-Bucky can be in it, reader’s relationship with him would be platonic or familial.

Louisiana Sun

steve, sam, bucky x platonic!daughter!reader, generous nods (i practically wrote a whole confession) to sarahbucky

things; dad!steve rogers moments, over protective steve, reader makes some risky decisions, bucky and same are basically your uncles, bucky is in love with sarah and louisiana by extension,

w/c; 4k (reader had to do a lot of convincing to let steve believe she wont get kidnapped in the presence of two soldiers)

You’ve never felt love like you did in Louisiana.

The sun baked grass, the humid winds kissing your shoulder. The vibrancy of colour and life that explodes on the streets, and in the caring waves of neighbours.

You taste home whenever Steve drives you up to Sam’s rickety gate, slamming the car door open to his objection and running through the winding bend of grass and willow trees. You can't wait for Steve to pull into Sam’s drive way, the bleached wooden porch calls to you in a way you can’t ignore.

So you find it exceptionally painful whenever Steve is swarmed with so much work he can’t make the drive up. And there was no way Steve would even let you take a plane ride by yourself, he says it’s cause he’d be too afraid but you think it’s because you help with the dishes.

It’s Friday evening at the Rogers, a night of pizza and Noir crime films you both adore. It’s spring break, and you've spent every waking hour with Steve cooped up at home. You don't mind it, it has made up for a lot of the father daughter time missed between missions. But god you can’t come back to school and say you spend the holidays with Captain America again.

“So..Sam called” You murmur, fainting nonchalance whilst you watch his every expression out of the corner of your eye. Gene Tirney’s whiskey voice blares from the TV screen in front of you.

“Uhm?” Steve replies with his mouth full.

“Yeah, he was wondering when I’d come down again to see ‘em. Bucky’s spending some time there too, helping out with the boat and Sarah” You reply, stretching your arms out in front of you.

“And what did you say” Steve replies after wiping away the smudges of sauce from his chin, eyes widening

“I said I’ll have to check with Corporal Rogers first” You tease

“Hey, I’m not anywhere near..”

“Dad we haven’t left this house in weeks, I’m not going to go another week locked in here” You reply

“I let you go places..remember Monday?”

“When you asked me to buy your cream of mushroom from the Bodega?!” You shriek, eyes boggling.

“Yes..?” Steve replies unsure, eyebrows furrowing

“That was a chore. For your own benefit by the way, I mean who in their right mind likes cream of mushroom?” You reply

“Ay, I’m not going to let you disrespect my taste in food for the second time today” Steve replies

“Oh please, I barely said anything about your choice of onions as a pizza topping-

“My pizza topping?? I was reconsidering dinner when you wanted pineapples. Fruit should not belong on pizza, there are rules. When I was your age we had-”

“To boil everything or else we’d get tetanus and die” You moan, rolling your eyes

“No..when I was your age I don't think pineapples even made it to New York yet” Steve murmurs, hand on his chin as if to truly consider it.

“Are you sure you're my father?” You reply, and are met with a soft cushion flying towards you.

“Work’s just been a lot lately kid. And I miss you too darn much to let you leave my sight. You know how I am, I see kids go missin’ everyday. Don’t know what I’d do if that happened to you cause I was reckless”

“You aren't getting sick of my face?”

“Never”

“You’re not being reckless Dad, I’m going to be with Sam for gods sake, and Bucky too! In Louisiana of all places! They probably mug you with bugnes as pistols” You giggle

“Don’t joke about that"

“Oh come on! You both were on a team for like eighty years, you don't trust them?”

“Of course I trust them, they’re your designated ‘if i get in a freak accident they take over’ people.

“Hey! Don’t joke about that” You quip

“I just like knowing you're near” Steve replies after chuckling

“I could just stay for a weekend! I’ll be back before you know it. Swear” You plead.

“You say that now..” Steve cocks his eyebrows, part of him knew you'd stay six months there if you could

You put on your best heartbroken pouted face whilst Steve goes through the motions of being finally convinced. His eyebrows furrow, his hand coming up to scratch at his golden locs as he considers it.

His shoulders slump, and before he can even say a gruntled “Fine..” You’re cheering, getting up to twirl around the lamp lit living room. Steve chuckles at your antics, eyes glinting with light at the sight of you jumping in happiness.

He knew he’d say yes in the end. You're his little girl, he can’t ever say no to you.

“Whilst you're up, switch out Laura for somethin’ else. We still got a checklist to get through”

“Isn’t it getting close to your bed time, senior citizen?” You giggle, reaching for the box of recorded movie tapes under the bookshelf dresser.

“Age ain't going to stop me from showing you what good cinema is” Steve barks, reaching for his glass of water gingerly.

You’re half through the Maltese Falcon, Sam Spade flickering his cigarette in flashes of black and white when Steve's phone rings.

He groans loudly, lying on his back with his legs stretched and laying on the coffee table with the bitten edges of pizza crust left over. The couch buzzes beneath your weight, somewhere deep within the crevices near spare change and ink pens it vibrates.

“You gonna get that old man?” You turn to Steve, mouth filled with cheesy saucy bread

“Easy now Rogers, and finish your mouthful”

You roll your eyes as Steve searches under the blanket stretched across you both, a sound of triumph leaves his throat when he grasps the metallic slick edges.

“Rogers” Steve grunts into the phone

“Ah Fury…Mhmm..didn’t they have Clint on that?..Right..”

You raise your eyebrows at the conversation between Steve and Fury, Steve pinches the bridge of his nose as he plops his head back against the head of the couch.

“For three weeks? Fury, you know I got Y/N to take care of. It’s why I transferred out of the field, it isn’t ‘cause I like reading” Steve murmurs, eyes cutting to you

Your eyebrows widen at that, mouthing to ‘pass the phone’ to Steve who shakes his head at you. Growing impatient, and longing to see Sam, Bucky and Sarah you make a mental note to blame them for the scolding of a century as you reach and swipe the phone from Steve's lazy grip.

“Yeah, I don’t know Fury- HEY”

“This is Steve Rogers manager speaking, yes he can and will be there for the mission”

“Y/N” Fury replies, his voice lit with a hint of humour at your antics.

You wrestle to escape Steve's reflexes, luckily you're a teenage girl who wants something so you're obviously faster. You throw the same pillow Steve had thrown at you before in his face, running behind the couch with the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, poking your tongue out at Steve.

“Hey Fury! How’s the wife and kids” You remark

“Who told you about my wife and kids”

“Oh Fury, think those confidential documents are safe from a certain Spider?”

“Goddamit Parker..” Fury mutters

You doge a flying pillow headed your way, Steve’s face growing red with frustration at you missing every hit. Super soldier my ass.

“Where’ll Steve be stationed?”

“Prague-wait, aren’t you twelve? I hate to say it but the soldiers right, you can’t just be left alone-”

“One word Fury. Louisiana, Beignets and a bird”

“That’s three words”

“Yeah well I ain't twelve but I didn’t correct you on that did I?”

“I’m an old man, Y/N” Fury replies gruffly

“I’m pretty sure you were in the hospital hallway at my birth..” You murmured

“How did you-?!” Fury replies

You're too busy skipping zig zag across the living room to escape the pieces of pizza, cushions and cd covers flying your way to hear him. You heard it once that it helps dodge bullets, and with the horsepower behind your own fathers arm, you think it matches.

“Makes sense anyways, there isn't a Wilson and Barnes without a Rogers nearby. You guys are like goddamn pack members” Fury replies “Let Steve know to be packed and ready by Sunday”

“Bye Fury” You giggle, swiping the red button before throwing the phone immediately at Steve who lunges for it.

Running to hide behind the first thing you see, you peek out from the forked leaves of a potted plant to see a very angry and very dishevelled Steve.

“Is now a good time to say I got a 90 on my science quiz?” You reply with a gulp

You’re smart enough not to run out the car seat the second Sam’s house comes into view, despite the itchiness festering in your bones driving though Louisiana and not being able to finally set your feet down onto it.

Steve called Sam the next morning, and you had already packed a suitcase of clothes and necessities a few days prior. You always felt healed after every road trip, and tuning out blues and Leon Bridges whilst driving through the country felt like a respite in itself.

As Steve pulls into the dirt drive way, you see Sam perches on the deck waving towards you both. You squeeze your hands into fists until he switches the ignition off, and then you are too. The car door springs open and you're rushing into Sam’s arms, giggling as he twirls you around till you're dizzy and sick.

“You’re Father has been keeping you from us” Sam says, shooting an accusatory dagger towards Steve who has begun to unload your belongings.

“Hello to you too Sam” Steve shouts from behind the open boot with a gruff voice.

Bucky’s booming voice makes its appearance before he does, rounding the corner of the back yard wiping grease off his hands onto a dirty old rag.

“If it isn’t Miss Rogers! Took ya long enough” He replies, pulling you into a tight protective hug whilst Steve sets your duffel bags on the porch edge.

Sam turns to Steve, pulling him into a hug as well, his hand slapping his back with a loud umph.

“Shame you couldn’t stay over here as well” Sam says

“Fury. Clint needs some help down in Nové Město” Steve says tiredly after embracing Bucky.

“When Duty calls” You reply

“Steve answers” Bucky and Sam say in unison.

“It wasn’t me this time” Steve points at you accusingly “The drive up here made me start regretting it enough. Lay off will ya”

“It was okay? We’ve been getting some Black bear sightings along Wood Lake” Sam replies

“We were all right. At least I won’t have a nagging buzz in my ear the drive back” Steve teases,

“Hey!” You reply, playfully pushing his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Y/N, You’re ours now. You no longer have to face that tyrant” Bucky chirps, pulling his hair back into a bun.

“And this tyrant” Steve shifts, looking down at his watch “needs to start heading back”

“Already? Can’t stay for lunch, Sarah’s making her seafood boil” Sam replies

Steve audibly groans, rocking on the balls of his feet as he shakes his head at the thought of missing out on Sarah Wilson's Louisiana renowned seafood.

“She is? Oh my god that better not be a lie Sam” You reply. Sarah’s cooking was like no other, you’ve been begging her to hurry up and make the next best selling cookbook.

“Yup, she's got me on shucking duty” Bucky says, feigning exasperation that held very thinly over the clear adoration Bucky had whenever he talked about Sarah.

You look towards Steve, and he raises his eyebrows as you both communicate silently. Bucky was head over heels in love with Sarah Wilson, it was getting annoying seeing them do this dance.

“Alright, time for goodbyes Kiddo” Steve replies after stifling the smirk that tugs at his mouth whilst he watches Bucky crane his neck at the sound of Sarah coming through the door.

“Steve Grant Rogers, you better not have thought of leaving without giving me a proper hello” Sarah calls, her dark coils pulled into a high bun that has begun to uncurl and frame her face.

“Tsk, Sarah. Of course I wouldn't leave before seeing the better Wilson.

“You got that right” Sarah chuckles, pulling Steve into a hug. Sam grumbles profanities under his breath as he rolls his eyes.

“Where are the boys?”

“Staying with a friend, did ya'll know something about this ‘hoverboard’ mess that's going around?” Sarah questions, exhaustion clear in her tone from dealing with two children wanting something.

“Could probably call Tony and he’d just make one for you” Steve replies with a chuckle at Sarah’s tone.

“Great idea soldier. Knew you were gonna leave early so I packed you a little somethin’ for the road” Sarah smirks, passing the tote bag on her shoulder that even you could smell had something decadent wrapped in careful parchment.

“Sarah Wilson, the woman you are” Steve replies, grasping the bag gingerly with a sigh as he peers into the wrapped dish.

“Ya can say that again” Bucky mutters softly under his breath, his hand coming up to scratch at the nape of his neck as Sarah shifts her gaze to him.

“Okay, I’ll admit it I’m gonna miss you oldie” You say, rocking n your feet as the feeling of separation begins to settle.

“Com ‘ere kid”

You quickly run into the open arms of Steve, blinking back tears as you lean your head on his broad shoulder. Rocking back and forth in his embrace Steve caresses your back tenderly.

“I’ll be back before you know it. We might even stay a bit longer when I do come back” Steve whispers in your ear.

You lift your head “Really? You mean that?” You whisper, as you meet his gaze, searching for any sign of a lie.

“When have I ever lied?”

“Well there was that one time you said you weren't scared of spiders..” You reply before Steve quickly cuts you off

“Okay that's enough”

You giggle, before Steve squeezes you in his arms. Shaking his head as you both part and he sets you back down.

“Never gets easier saying goodbye'' Steve replies, before moving to embrace Sam and Bucky, and placing a chaste kiss on Sarah's cheek before turning back to you.

“Now, call me before bed and in the morning, okay?” Steve replies, his tone morphing into an authoritarian lilt.

“Yep, and I'll text you some photos and videos throughout” You reply sweetly, as Steve nods along with unblinking eyes.

“What are you doing”

“I’m just taking a mental note of how you look exactly as I left you, and I will notice any piercings, hair changes and god forbid tattoos-”

“Okay, okay, just take a photo while you’re at it”

Steve shuffles on his feet, moving the back to his shoulder as he pulls out his phone

“Oh you aren’t actually-” You say, before the flash of Steve's camera cuts you off midway.

“Alright, I think I’m good to go” Steve replies, before nodding your playful punch on his shoulder.

You walk Steve to the car, hugging him goodbye again before Sam and Bucky exchange some information about something confidential, top secret, and definitely one you shouldn't listen in on.

But you do.

And it’s boring anyway.

The kitchen is bustling by mid afternoon, shells of craw fish and prawns scattered on the table counter and the dirty water of shelled oysters flowing down the edge of the grassy front lawn.

The smells of cajun seasoning and buttered corn leaves you asking Sarah when it's done every five minutes till she’s banishing you from the kitchen and sending you off with a lemonade.

You move through the littered toys and figurines AJ and Cass had left in their clear hurry to spend the night at a friend's and push the screen door open with your hip. Careful to not spill your drink, you take a seat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch with a sigh.

The sounds of the nearby pier docked with ships and fisherman makes its way even down the rocky dirt roads of Sam’s place, easy against the chirps and rustles of shrikes up above the oak and willow trees around the house.

You don't come to Louisiana to escape noise, life is all around you when you pay attention to it. New York is always awake, even at night- especially at night. Louisiana has a kind of hum that’s different, it feeds your soul.

Curling your feet underneath you, the screen door opens with a wack as Bucky stumbles onto the porch. The moisture of the beer drips down his fingers as he sits down on the adjacent chair to you.

“Sarah kick you out too?” You reply with a giggle as Bucky grumbles under his breath.

“I was just askin’ if we need to make this much food for four people..” Bucky replies, shaking his head with regret as he rests it on the back of the chair.

“Ooh rookie move mister” You reply teasingly, before Bucky cuts his eyes to you

“Oh and asking the equivalent of “are we there yet” is any better” Bucky banters, taking a swing of his beer before immediately grimacing.

“How’s you get Steve to agree to leave you for three weeks” Bucky starts, bringing his feet up to rest against the porch wooden fence.

“Oh I didn’t, Fury called and I just snatched the phone and told him he’d be there” You replied

“And you’re still breathing?!” Bucky replies incredulously

“I’m shocked by myself. But what about you?”

“Me? What about me?” Bucky replies with an eyebrow raised

“Are you staying in Louisiana indefinitely? Makes it a lot easier to convince Dad to move down here too” You continue

“I..I don't know. Maybe. Helping Sam out with the boat and everything has been good. Really good in fact. The people here aren't afraid of me..or this” Bucky points to the vibranium compartments of his arm.

“I wasn’t, I knew they wouldn't be too” You muse, smiling as Bucky looks up at you.

“Thanks kid. Finally starting to feel normal again, part of the community now I suppose. It’s weird, even back in Brooklyn i never felt so..a part of something before”

“Can’t just up and leave ‘em like I would’ve before. Especially when Sam needs my help”

“And Sarah” You add, hiding the smile behind a nonchalant nod.

“Yeah..Sarah” Bucky adds, his eyes glazing over as he leans back, eyes shifting to the towering tree leaves that cover half the sky.

You watch him carefully, seeing the way his leg jitters a little at the mere mention of Sarah, how so in love he is with her and you can’t help yourself anymore.

“You love her, don't you?” You murmur, as Bucky quickly swings his head to look at you.

“Hmp?”

“Sarah?” You inquire, raising your eyebrows with a smirk.

“I see the way you look at her, the way you both look at each other, and I’m here practically every summer break. Which is never”

Bucky’s face morphs from shock to realisation, sitting upright as he scratches at his dark overgrown hair.

“You think she looks at me? I mean, in that way?” Bucky asks after a pregnant pause, his voice quiet and filled with anxious shyness. He can’t even look at you, looking out into the rounding hills of the roads and houses ahead.

“I know she does. Let it be the teenage girl who can tell who is acting like two love sick high schoolers” You grin, as Bucky’s eyes twinkle, unable to hide the adoration and love about to burst through.

“Or let that Chef who came down from Chicago swept her off her feet..what was his name again?” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows as you take a sip of your melting lemonade.

“Easy now, Rogers” Bucky replies with a bark, jaw clenching at the thought of Sarah being with anyone else.

“Foods ready!” Sam calls out from the kitchen window and Bucky helps you up from your seat, tipping out the last of his drink onto the stepped on grass before you both make your way back inside.

The thick book raised high above your face does little to block out the midday sun, you’re lying on the dock, the wooden planks warm underneath your shirt as the ends of your hair dip into the lake’s surface.

It’s a quiet hidden sort of mystical place, off the side of Sarah’s house where practically nobody but the Wilson's and by extension now you and Bucky now know about. Sarah divulged memories of spending new years here with the boys and their father years before, how it seemed likes their own little getaway.

The yellowed pages of Bucky’s first edition Hobbit flick between your fingers as you fly through the adventures of Bilbo and the fantastical realm of Erebor. You notice AJ and Cass’s squeals and laughter suddenly silent, and for the first time since you had laid down you sit upright looking across the grassy field.

The boy’s frisbee you had lost many games to earlier is dashed to the side, and as you wipe lazy exhaustion from your eyes to see Sam pull out a notebook and pen on the rug. Dusting off the dirt from the dock, you make your way through the grassy foxgloved trail towards him.

“Where did everyone go?” You question, throwing the book onto the soft cushioned floor.

“Bucky and Sarah had to take the boys home, AJ somehow ended up hurting himself on grass. And before you ask no I don’t know how”

You giggle before plopping down on some cushions, stretching your arms out with a groan.

It’s easy to talk to Sam. About school, about New York, about life, everything.The unrelenting sun helps ease the discomfort of certain things sure, but Sam has always been your person.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, looking at Sam scribble some things into the paper

“I like to write sometimes. Not for anyone else, just for myself. Can be about how I’m feeling some days, people I remember, hell even some poetry”

“I tried the whole journal taking thing, the counselor at school said it might be good since I don't have a “conventional family dynamic”. Psycho babble for, everyone you know and love have fought aliens in space and have the capability to take down a government.

“I mean, there was that one time the Quinjet dropped you off at school” Sam chuckled

“That was one time! And that was because Tony hates traffic” You add, shaking your head at the embarrassment of disembarking from a 30 feet aircraft that works as a spaceship.

“But it must be hard, ya know? Having to share your dad with the rest of the world”.

“Hm? Sarah’s boys share you with them too”

“Yeah, but you know it's different. Parents are meant to be plain, they’re meant to live through us. Imprint all their expectations and dreams onto us”

“Well, maybe you should start seein’ things at what they ‘could’ be, instead of what they're meant to be. Sure, I don't have the kind of Dad that comes from the office at 5pm and has days off. But I get..this. You and Bucky, Sarah and a damn Asgardian King as my family. My Dad spent his whole life fighting, showed me what having immovable morals and good character makes of you. Wouldn’t trade it for the world, makes you feel a lot safer when there's an inbuilt super hero team on speed dial too”

“Damn you Rogers and your century wisdom. You spent a couple decades in the ice too?”

“Haha, don't group me with that icicle.

Birds chirp and warm wind tussles the grass you lay on.

“Oh Louisiana"

“Nothing like it ey?”

“In the entire world. Get now why Steve never allowed me to stay longer than a week”

“Why’s that?” “Cause I'd never leave. I'd probably force him to retire and build a house with his bare hands across the road from you”.

Sam chuckles.

The sound of footsteps makes its way from the trail, and Bucky appears rounding the corner, his vibranium arm glinting in the sun.

“Do I hear the familiar crinkling of Guidry’s?” You shout out excitedly as Bucky raises the familiar peach coloured paper bag in the air

“Easy with the goods, Barnes” Sam calls out, before Bucky plops down next to you, ripping open the pastry bag to unveil the perfectly powdered beignets still warm.

“Told Elijah you had come down for a visit and he gave a little extra” Bucky says, before reaching for one of the pastries dusted in snow.

“Yeah…Steve was right” You reply, after groaning at the sweet and airy taste of the most perfect fluffy pastry you have ever tasted

“Bout what?” Sam and Bucky both say in unison mouths filled and faces covered in powdered sugar

“I’m never gonna leave” You giggle, wiping the sugar from your chin.

The sun makes its disembark down the coastline, as tunes of Etta Jones, Rockettes and Hozier murmur from Sam’s faded blue speaker. You fill your stomach on sugary beignets and sweet tea, leaving sticky fingerprints on card faces through hour long games of Euchre through the afternoon light.

40 notes · View notes

marvelflame2010 · 1 year

Text

Bucky: Doll, I'm cold

Y/n: *pulls out one of Bucky's jackets from her bag* I told you to bring a jacket.

Bucky: Thank you! 😁

Sam: Hey Y/n, I'm cold too

Y/n: You want me to set you on fire?

411 notes · View notes

bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 1 year

Text

Soulmate- B.Barnes

Summary: Bucky gets introduced to Sam’s childhood best friend, he finally feels love and looks forward to thee future for the first time in over 80 years.

Pairings: Bucky x Fem!Reader, Sam x Platonic!Reader

Fic Warnings: brief mentions of Bucky’s time in Wakanda, brief mention of the Flag Smashers, brief mention of the blip, fem!reader, use of y/n(IDK if thats a warning but it’s here)

Author’s Notes: This is the first fic I’ve written in ages and this is also my first Bucky fic. I hope this was good and feedback is welcome. When I was writing this I was thinking of the song Soulmate by Mac Miller, I don’t listen to many love songs but this is the only one I thought of.

My full Masterlist

Word Count: 1437

gif not mine

It was safe to say that James Buchanan Barnes didn’t have a very easy life. He got drafted for the war at 25, got taken as a prisoner of war, was forced to take Hydra’s super soldier serum, he was rescued by his lifetime best friend Steve, only to fall off of a train a few years later, lost an arm and taken as an experiment for Hydra. The man had a hard life, he was an asset to Hydra for 80 years and he wasn’t free from Hydra completely until the Wakandans stepped in to help. After the blip, he only had his best friend for a week or so until he was gone again and left to navigate the 21st century by himself.

Bucky was never one to believe that love or even companionship was something he’d obtain. When he met y/n, he felt as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Sure, she was shy and quiet, typically kept to herself, but she was sweet, kind and caring. She was the most selfless person he had ever met in his life. They had met in a time that Bucky needed somebody the most. After the Flag Smashers debacle, Sam had introduced him to his childhood best friend.

At first, Bucky was wary, he wasn’t quick to trust people, but he was infatuated with this woman. Sam had spoken about her before and so had Steve oddly enough. He can remember Steve speaking fondly about her, how she was like a breath of fresh air from all of this superhero nonsense.

Bucky and y/n were friends for a good while before anything actually happened, the two of them slightly nervous to make a move on the other. They lived together for a good amount of time, dancing around their feelings for each other. They even got a cat together after Bucky’s new therapist suggested it. His new therapist even suggested that he step away from fighting for a while and to focus on himself, making friends and nurturing his current friendships. Creating a routine and sticking to it.

His routine was a simple one, he wake up every morning at 5:00, made him and y/n breakfast, feed Alpine, go for a jog, come home, take a shower, make lunch, every once in a while he would drop by y/n’s work and eat lunch with her, he’d catch up on some shows and movies that she and Sam recommended, then the rest of his day he’d just do random things around the apartment until she got home then spend the rest of his day with her and Alpine.

y/n was the one that came up with the idea of having lunch together when she was at work. It was about a month into them living together and Bucky had just gotten his routine down. “Hey B, you know you can visit me and we can have lunch together, whenever you want to. The main office already knows to send you to me if you ever drop by.” And ever since then, Bucky would visit her at least twice a week, always bringing a homemade lunch and a recap of his day.

The last time he visited her, a few of her students were lingering in the room. He lingered in the doorway for a minute until she took notice of him. “Bubs! Come sit! We were just talking about you and Sam,” She had a big grin on her face, her y/c eyes sparkling in the fluorescent lights.

“Hey beautiful! I didn’t want to interrupt, it seemed like a good conversation was happening in here,” Bucky walked further into the classroom, sitting in the chair next to her, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.

“Mr.Barnes, what was it like being a part of the Avengers?” One of her students asked excitedly.

“I was never an official Avenger, but it was a lot of pressure. I’m happy to be getting a much needed break.”

“I’m happy you’re talking this break, poor bubs, you worked yourself half to death. Sam said you were extra grumpy,” She said in a teasing tone. Bucky rolled his eyes playfully before plopping her lunch in front of her. “You made my favorite! Bubs, that’s so sweet!”

“Only for my best girl. I can see the three of you practically bursting over there. Ask your questions.” The three students bombarded him with questions, all of which he answered to the best of his ability. y/n ate her lunch and listened to how Bucky willingly answered all of her students’ questions. Every once in a while, she would chime in when she could. Then Bucky decided to flip the conversation and started asking the students questions.

“What’s this one making you guys do? Read crappy books and look at stupid things as symbols?” Bucky asked as a joke.

“Hey! That was mean, Buck,” y/n pouted, making him chuckle. He planted a chaste kiss on her pouted lip causing her students to jokingly gag. Bucky turned his attention back to the students to listen to their answers.

“I mean, there really isn’t a set curriculum in our school so the teachers make it. We’re doing fantasy right now so we’re reading The Hobbit. We aren’t going too heavy into symbolism, thank God.” This got Bucky on a long tangent about how it was the best book he read when he was younger. How he used to read it to Steve when he was stuck in bed and how he used to read to his younger siblings all the time. The small group that had gathered only grew when somehow most of y/n’s students found out that Bucky was in the building.

Since her students were so intrigued by Bucky, she set up a little project for the AP Literature and Journalism students. With his okay of course, Bucky was going to come to the school after hours and answer questions that he was comfortable answering for the students. Their project was to write a paper or an article on Bucky. Since more students showed interest, they opened it to the whole school, however only the Journalism and AP Lit students were allowed to ask questions.

The night it was set for, Bucky was nervous, he was about to go up in front of a lot of teenagers and answer questions that were thrown at him. y/n was right next to him, trying to relax him. “Baby, if you want to postpone this or cancel it we can. No problem. Whatever you need I can get it for you,” she offered him.

“I just need you with me. As much as it pains me to say this, is Sam still in town?” Luckily for him, Sam was still in town and came to the school to be up on the auditorium stage with y/n and Bucky. With the two of them at his side, Bucky was more relaxed, if he needed a little comfort, he had his closest friend on one side and his soulmate on the other.

“Hi everyone! Tonight our AP Literature and Journalism students are interviewing World War Two veteran, Hydra survivor, and my wonderful boyfriend, James Bucky Barnes. I do want to disclose a few things before we start. Bucky is very nervous so I will be beside him as well as an unexpected but welcomed guest. I did warn the students as well as Bucky that any question he is not comfortable answering, he can either pass off to me if I can answer it or he can simply leave the question unanswered. Now please, give a very warm welcome to Bucky Barnes and our wonderful Captain America and my very best friend, Sam Wilson!”

Bucky nearly stayed backstage but when he saw her standing under the stage lights, creating the illusion of a halo on top of her head, her warm smile and soft eyes reserved only for him, his feet decided to move towards her. As he walked towards her, his mind was racing with the thought of growing old with her, having a family and finally being a normal man with a metal arm. Instead of his usual scowl across his face, he had a wide smile that was previously only shown to y/n, but now Sam and at least 100 teenagers. He was finally happy and looking forward to his future with this beautiful woman in front of him, who would always be there for him no matter the time of day or the situation. He felt loved.

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