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kqutie · 2 months ago

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GROUP EFFORT x BABY EMERGENCY

relations. : platonic avengers/single mother reader ; romantic pairing still undecided

sum. : you're a single mother and your one-year-old son seems to have developed a number of superpowers overnight. feeling desperate, you go to the only superheroes that exist, the avengers; surely they know how to help you. It's a Baby Emergency!

tags. : single mother reader ; baby is inspired by Jack-Jack from ‘the incredibles’ ; fluff ; slight crack fic ; comfort ; baby!oc ; husband!oc ; widowed reader ; baby has multiple powers ; domestic fluff

length : 3.4k

sett. : in a timeline where nobody dies and everyone gets along with each other because I SAID SO! ; doesn’t mention any major events so no spoilers

Ever since you had Vince, your main priority in life became being a good mother to him. You had hoped to raise him with his father, Vincent, but there was a fatal accident at the lab you both worked at that took his life too soon. You were almost another casualty too but you weren’t as close to the site as your husband. Now, however, you’re left to a life of single motherhood.

Grief was your closest companion in the months that followed your husband’s untimely death but you never strayed off course too long; you had to be strong for your baby.

Vince, lovingly nicknamed Vinny, became the centre of your world. Everything revolves around him and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There were hard times and happy times. Times when you cried without reason and times when you couldn’t stop smiling until your cheeks hurt. Being a single mother, made it lonely at times, but you know that Vincent is watching over you and little Vinny every day so you aren’t truly alone.

Watching Vinny grow into the little man he is today was a joy you would never regret. One day, you will surely look back on these times with a smile. Each day, you see more and more of his father in him. They had the same eyes, the same dimpled smile, the same light brown hair and forest-green eyes – he was the perfect carbon copy of your late husband and you couldn’t be happier. It made your heart swell knowing that you had a piece of Vincent left in this world to cherish with all the love in your heart. And. although it was your job as a mother to protect Vinny, sometimes, you feel as if he’s the one protecting you.

Two days ago, you celebrated your little man’s one-year birthday. He had grown up far too quickly and with the brains and cheek of no other one-year-old you have ever met. You were excited to see the type of personality he would develop and what things he would be interested in, would he be a science geek like you and his father or would he be more artistic? A painter? A musician? Maybe he would learn to love literature or be more of a businessman. Perhaps an athlete? You were thrilled at the possibilities, wanting the best for your son and feeling eager to support him in any way. Even though, you don’t think you’re the type of mother to go overboard on such things, you will do your best to be there for him.

But…

This was not one of the things you had foreseen or even thought of when Vinny turned a year old. The doctors said the gamma rays barely reached you, that you and your unborn child would be alright—!

“Vinny! Get down here now! Please baby!” you plead desperately, chasing after your one-year-old as he giggles above you. Vinny was in the air, suspended by some invisible string, floating about freely with the cheekiest grin on his face and both dimples on show! The desperation and fright in your voice are obvious as you follow him around your small apartment with a basket full of pillows, plushies and blankets, ready to catch him if he falls unexpectedly.

Due to the unexpected development following Vinny’s first birthday, you rushed to take the week off work and concentrate on figuring things out with your baby. So far, you’ve had no luck. In fact, the only thing you’ve been able to start is a growing list of all the powers he’s demonstrated over the past three days. Despite your astonishment, first and foremost, you are a mother. And a mother worries for her child excessively.

You don’t know what to do!

You’ve barely had any sleep, practically living off coffee. And Vinny’s hardly slept either. To your guilty dismay, you’ve been taming with sugary treats, just so you could hold him down and have a breather from all the building stress, maybe take a nap together!

The neighbours are definitely not happy with you for your running about and pleading helplessly while Vinny giggles like the little gremlin he at your visible dismay. Your apartment is a mess with certain things not being where they should be and others replacing items in places that aren’t appropriate – courtesy of Vinny’s curious and mischievous behaviour. The laundry needs doing. Vinny needs to have a diaper change. You haven’t eaten in how many hours now. When was the last time you slept and for how long? When was the last time Vinny slept and for how long?!

Everything just keeps mounting!

Single motherhood is hard enough as it is but now you have to deal with your baby having multiple powers! No other mother has had to deal with a power-gifted child before so there weren’t any YouTube tutorials or parenting forums online to help you with the tight bind you’ve found yourself in.

Another day (or was it two days now?) pass and you’re a wreck, barely tied together by the thread of your sanity. But Vinny is having the time of his life. Your little boy thoroughly enjoys the sensations of his newly discovered powers and the list you’ve kept of his the is ever-growing. He can teleport, duplicate himself, generate electricity, levitate things, has laser eyes, spontaneously combust and happily remain on fire without injury, change his physical form into various materials, reverse time on objects to repair them, display superhuman strength and shapeshift with his most favourite thing to do be floating in the air!

“Vinny please!” you’re pleading is met with a devious giggle. Thankfully, your one-year-old has stopped moving around so you can place the well-prepared basket of cushions, plushies and blankets directly below him before turning on a very reliable tactic.

“Look, Vinny! Look!” whipping out your iPad, you turn on a compilation video of the Avengers. “It’s our favourite heroes!” With a squeal of delight, Vinny slowly descends into your arms as he claps his hands. His gaze remains transfixed on his idols talking on screen and occasionally taking action to save the day. Smiling to his ears, Vinny babbles gibberish alongside the heroes as they speak like he’s talking to them and having a pleasant conversation over tea and biscuits. He loves them so much that his first birthday was Avengers-themed – his favourite avenger switched often so you included all the heroes in your decorations.

Placing Vinny on the sofa, he leans back and gets cosy as you hold the iPad up for him. These were one of your saved videos on Youtube specifically for Vinny. Wanting to avoid exposing him to the more explicit action the Avengers usually partake in to save the day, you had taken the liberty of scanning the videos beforehand for any overly violent content. The child-friendly videos, you kept. These were of Captain America saving a cat from a tree, Ironman showing up on the red carpet in his suit and striking comical poses, Spiderman swinging from buildings and doing flips mid-air, Thor and Loki getting coffee together, Pietro pausing mid-chase to wave at a fan before speeding away and many more child-friendly interactions the Avengers have had with or was captured by the public.

What do you do?...

Amid your exhaustion and silent deliberation, you begin to zone out until you’re just as transfixed on the clips playing out. It makes you smile through the exhaustion when you see Vinny squeal and clap joyfully at the sight of Bucky lifting part of a collapsed building so that a little girl could free her whining puppy from the heavy debris.

“Buck!” he cheers the former Winter Soldier on.

“Clever boy~” you coo sweetly and almost laugh at yourself when you realise his advanced intelligence should have been the telling sign of an incredibly gifted child. Why didn’t you pick up on it sooner?

Swallowing a sigh of defeat, you tuck Vinny further into your side as the Avengers tower comes into view on screen. You both watch as the Hellicarrier docks at the top and your beloved heroes step down from the aircraft before making their way inside. In response, Vinny mimics the sound of the Hellicarrier by blowing raspberries and getting his spit all over the screen. His antics make you giggle despite the mess and you try to clean up the screen as quickly as possible for a better viewing experience. Upset with your efforts, Vinny, whines and tries to push your hand away with a pout.

“Uhhh! Excuse me, mister. That is your spit on the screen and it needs to be cleaned off. I’ll be quick, I promise,” Apparently, you aren’t quick enough and Vinny begins to throw a tantrum, crying loud enough that the soundwaves he produces shake the walls of your apartment. You want to comfort him and apologise but his cries are so loud that you have to cover your ears.

It takes a while for your baby to calm down enough that your arm can be free to cradle him close and coo softly in apology. Your neighbours are definitely going to demand that you get kicked out of the building. Heaving a heavy sigh, you pick up the iPad to resume the video but the paused image of the Avengers tower gives you an idea.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Travelling to Manhattan was easier than you initially expected but that didn’t mean you weren’t anxious the entire way there. You worried that Vinny would show his powers spontaneously and attract unwanted attention. To minimise the risk, you hired a taxi, that way, you could keep a better eye him the entire ride there. So that he was happy and comfortable, you dressed him in his favourite hooded dinosaur romper. And with his beloved Avengers compilation videos playing in the background, you, thankfully, didn’t have any major disturbances on the journey there. You actually managed to get in a quick power nap on the journey.

Upon arrival, you quickly pay for the taxi and hurry to the entrance of the Avengers Tower. You didn’t want to come off as a crazy person but the stress, lack of sleep and desperation for help weren’t doing you any favours — you looked nutty. Not even the make-up could hide your dark circles nor did your styled hair disguise the wildness in your eyes. It’s no wonder the front desk receptionist looks at you weirdly, with a concerning mix of worry and fear in her eyes.

“I promise I’m not some delusional, crazy fan!” you try to convince her as soon as you see her arm reaching for something on the table, probably an emergency button for security. “My 12-month-old just developed powers overnight and I need help!” you plead with tears in your eyes. No sleep, high stress and low energy, you can deal with— you just want your baby to grow up well and… you don’t think you can do it alone anymore…

“I’m sorry ma’am but I’m afraid that if you don’t have an appointment—”

“Please! This is a baby emergency! My son needs your help! Please!” you cry out and reach for her hand, trying to convey your desperation through the clench of your hands around hers. However, before the secretary could retaliate, you notice one singular, glaring thing. Glancing down at the car seat turned carrier beside your feet, you make the startling realisation that it was now empty.

Where. Is. Vinny?!

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Vinny knows where his mama has taken him and he’s so happy! He gurgles his happiness and claps as his favourite person in the whole world places him down at the home of his best-loved heroes. He can’t wait to meet them and grows a little impatient when you talk with the lady behind the counter for longer than he was willing to wait for. So Vinny decides to leave you alone and let you continue your nice conversation with the lady. He knows just where to go!

“...you guys see the baby too, right?...” Tony states the obvious. Everyone was just settling down as late afternoon transitions into evening and was gradually gathering in the living room when a baby materialises on top of their coffee table. He’s dressed in an adorable dinosaur romper and smiles brightly up at them, clapping his tiny hands and expressing his joy.

“Yup,” Steve stares at the clapping infant in disbelief, “that’s a baby…”

For a moment, nobody knows what to do and everything is at a standstill. How did a baby get here? Their minds were going on over drive trying to gauge if this was some sort of distraction or threat disguised in the most innocent form imaginable. They don’t want to fall for it but… its a baby!

“Hey there little guy,” Pietro kneels down with a hesitant smile. If there was danger soon to follow this first interaction, he can easily zip away with his super speed. This was a common formula for their missions so he steps up to do the confrontation first. Some members continue watching the interaction, whilst others engage in hush whispers, trying to figure out how the baby got there. In the background, Tony addresses FRIDAY with Pepper and asks for some kind of explanation.

Ecstatic with the interaction, the baby squeals and leans forward, putting his little palms on the coffee table to keep his balance and looks deeply into Pietro’s eyes. Feeling a swell of fondness for the small infant, Pietro whispers another ‘hello’ but is cut off when the mysterious baby’s light brown hair suddenly changes into a familiar silver colour, the same way his forest green eyes morph into a familiar blue.

Wanda gasps and kneels down beside her brother, “he looks like you as a baby,” she coos at the child with fondness in her eyes. Due to the unfortunate events in their lives, Wanda and Pietro had become exceptionally close as siblings, they were the type to take a bullet for each other and were a reliable duo on the field. They had to grow up fast but seeing a glimpse of their childhood in the baby’s morphing into Pietro was equal parts exciting and heart-melting.

“Fascinating,” Dr Banner muses, slowly approaching the coffee table. He originally kept his distance but his fascination at the display overrode his caution. In the background, Thor’s jaw drops and Loki smirks, stifling a chuckle from behind his fingers.

“That child is devious but very charming!” Thor announces in his characteristically loud and strong voice, grinning toothily at the child.

“Sounds like someone familiar,” Loki comments under his breath and tilts his chin up in pride.

“Yes yes, brother, but this child is much cuter than you,” Thor chuckles into his glass of water, only to begin choking when Loki gives him a timely punch in the gut.

“Very cute little man, isn’t he Buck?” Sam chimes in as he stands with the two super soldiers, remembering the time when his nephews were innocent little babies. Both super soldiers have their arms crossed but aren’t necessarily tense, it’s clear the child isn’t a threat but the display of innate powers were worth putting on some guard and vigilance.

“You mean dinosaur?” Bucky lightly comments as the three share a grin.

“Right! He’s the same age as you two fossils, then?” Sam has the gall to laugh but almost bites down on his tongue when Bucky hits him in the shoulder. “Ow! Watch it! My arm’s not made of vibranium like yours, Robo-cop.” Turning to the other supersoldier, Sam begs for an ally, “Did you see what he did Steve?”

The blonde captain simply shakes his head in amusement as Sam rubs his sore arm, “You had it coming Wilson,” Turning back to the mysterious baby, Steve hums in thought, “should we call Fury?”

Even though Vinny thoroughly enjoyed the attention from the Maximoff twins and Banner, he won’t be fully satisfied until he gets to meet all of his heroes up close. In the blink of an eye, he was in Natasha’s arms. The shocking display of teleportation makes everything click.

“So that’s how you got up here,” Natasha muses, gradually allowing herself to cradle the baby and smile warmly when he giggles in her arms. Cooing, Clint comes up behind her and starts making silly faces over her shoulder, making the child giggle even more. The happy sounds make everyone in the room smile, momentarily forgetting the oddness of the situation until Friday’s voice speaks through the speakers and brings up footage from the CCTV cameras in the main lobby.

“It appears as though the child was brought in by his mother just early on, asking for help,” The team watches as you helplessly converse with their staff as the rest run about looking for your missing baby.

“Oh no…” Pepper breaths and begins making her way to the door after exchanging a look with Tony.

“Bring up the earlier footage of when they first came in,” Tony requests. Everyone doesn’t take their eyes off the screen as they watch you hurriedly come in with a baby carrier and immediately begin talking to the front receptionist. Your frantic movements, wild eyes and unsettled nerves make you look like a lunatic but they were nothing but sympathetic. With their line of work and the stresses it comes with, they’re all too familiar with your current state.

“The staff refused to let her in but the baby appears to have teleported up here,” FRIDAY concludes, showing the exact moment Vinny vanishing from his carrier and you noticing his disappearance.

“Tell the staff to let the lady in, we have her child up here,” Steve commands, everyone already in silent agreement.

“Right away, Cap,” FRIDAY responds. And Tony informs them that Pepper had gone to help out with things too.

“Ma!” Vinny cheers at seeing his mother on the screen, thoroughly distracted from Clint’s silly faces and Natasha’s comforting warmth. “Mama! Mamamamamamamama!” He babbles and floats up to the screen, trying to be close to your CCTV image.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!” Tony shouts in alarm and everyone quickly follows. They all rush to stand beneath the baby as FRIDAY takes away the footage, confusing the baby. Where did his mama go?

“Mama?” Vinny waves his small hands in the air and whines, trying to ask for his mama back but gets nothing. Still up in the air, the Avengers are in complete panic below the baby and become even more hysterical when he begins to wail in distress. “MAMA!!! WAHHHHHHHHH!”

“No no! Please don’t cry!” Clint pleads, “Do you want some of my pizza?” the archer offers a slice of classic pepperoni but Nat hisses in disapproval.

“He’s a baby Clint, he can’t eat pizza!”

“Make it stop!” Loki snaps, covering his ears as he glares at his older brother.

“What am I supposed to do?!” Thor protests.

Wanda levitates into the air and reaches for him, “Hey hey, it’s okay, you’re okay baby. Your mama will be here soon,” just as Wanda gets close enough to pull the baby to her, he floats away with a cry.

“No! Mama!”

“Oh please come back!” Wanda begs, trying to go after him again but the baby was having none of it. The aerial chase has all spectators holding their breath and Wanda pleading helplessly for the baby to stop but he refuses to comply.

It seems to take forever until Pepper finally opens the door you come rushing, immediately putting a stop to your baby’s tantrum, “Vinny!”

“Mama!” the baby wails and flies into your open arms.

“Don’t ever do that again, mister!” you scold gently, happy to finally have your treasure back in your arms. The avengers look on with small smiles and Wanda finally floats back down to stand by her twin brother. Finally calming down, Vinny cuddles up to you with a yawn and you roll your eyes. “Of course… he causes all this trouble and now I have to do all the explaining by myself,”

Partial to your grumblings, Pepper laughs lightly and leads you to a free seat on one of the sofas, “why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Would you like some water, ma’am?” Steve offers kindly and you smile.

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you Captain,”

“No worries and just Steve is fine,” as he leaves to get you a glass of water from the bar, everyone else gets settled for an explanation.

This was gonna be interesting…

navi. | series masterlist

a/n : this is going to be an imagines series, there isn't going to be a complicated plot underlining the series, it's just going to be a series of fluffy, domestic, cute imagines where the avengers help you raise your polymorph son inspired by jack-jack from the incredibles XD i have some imagines planned but i'll eventually open up requests for what you lovelies might want to see from this series

76 notes · View notes

neonovember · 8 months ago

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.

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screechcat · 1 year ago

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Y/n looking around the common room, with all of the Avengers talking, playing board games, and watching movies.

They sigh in content, finally feeling relaxed and safe.

Sam: What are you so smiley about L/n?

Y/n hums: Just happy is all

The others glance around at each other and smile. Y/n had been pretty new. Coming from a bad background like most of them. This was the first time they said something like that.

Tony: I think this calls for an Avengers pile.

Y/n's eyes widen in horror.

Y/n: Dude, I said I was happy, not wanting death.

Thor: To late!

All of the Avengers pile onto the couch with Y/n effectively trapping them.

Y/n struggles and tries to get away.

Y/n: Guuuuuuysssss! Get offah me! This sucks!

Nat hums: Bull

The others murmur agreements.

Not too long after Y/n gives up and just lets it happen.

Y/n: ..... okay, maybe this is nice

Peter: I knew you loved us!

Y/n half asleep but still sarcastic as ever: Don't tell my teammates. It'll go to their heads.

They chuckle, and after a while, they all drift off to sleep.

It was a sight to see for Maria the next morning. The Earth's Mightest Heros and most skilled people in a giant pile on the couch happily sleeping.

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pixiexdusts-world · 2 years ago

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Marvel social media :) 2

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mgparker · 2 years ago

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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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literaryavenger · 7 months ago

Text

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely.

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him?

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat.

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on.

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways.

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13

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book-place-incorrect-quotes · 1 year ago

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

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captaincapsicle83 · 9 months ago

Text

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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becasworldsstuff · 9 months ago

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BCAS MASTER LIST

Bucky Barnes

Just feel tired : mafia!bucky x reader

Look, like a princess : mafia!daddy!bucky x reader

Stucky ( poly)

Something: mafia!stucky x kidnapped!reader

Colin Bridgerton (lover/bff/sister...)

dearest reader: Colin x reader

Simon Basset (lover/bff/sister..)

You are the love of my life: Simon x fem!reader

Meant to be: Simon x fem!reader

Pogues

The pogues princess: pogues x pogue!reader

Rebekah mikaelson

She's my person: Rebekah x reader

Maddy Perez

Love you doll: Maddy x platonic!reader

#kiara x reader #platonic!reader #pogues x reader #pope x reader #sarah x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #bridgerton fanfiction

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book-place · 2 years ago

Text

Home for Christmas

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

Request: Can I pls order an avengers x reader? They missed Christmas due to a mission they had to go on last minute. When they came back the day after Christmas, the avengers planned a movie night for when you returned. So you all watched some movies and somehow got stuck in a cuddle pile on the 2nd movie. You mainly just sat still while watching the movie and listening to some of them argue (Bucky and Sam)

Request by: @ladyagagaslefttoe

*not my gif*

Summary: Your team surprised you after a long mission away

A/N: Welcome to day 7 of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

The elevator just couldn’t go fast enough.

You were rocking back and forth on your heels and drumming your fingers against the side of your leg in anticipation as you bit down on your lip.

What was only less than a minute, had felt like an eternity for you in that elevator.

You had been away on a last mission for about a week by yourself, only your specific skill set needed for it, so you had to leave your team behind and ended up missing Christmas.

It devastated all of you for you not to be able to spend it with together, or even be able to call due to the seriousness of the mission.

Of course, you had reassured them though, that it was alright and to not pause any of the festivities like they wanted until you got back, not wanting to ruin the holiday for them.

When the doors finally did slide open, you practically jumped out, only to be tackled to the floor by a swarm of bodies.

“Y/n!” Your entire team cheered as they greeted you with a large hug and even larger grins.

Your mouth gaped a little bit as you looked around you at all of the decorations that they had put up in your absence, and all of the presents that had been left untouched under the tree.

“What is…” You were at a loss for words as Steve helped you stand up.

“We know you told us not to,” Nat said with a teasing smile.

“But we decided to wait to have Christmas until you got back!” Tony announced proudly, standing with his hands on his hips as if it were his brilliant idea.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully, “Don’t let him fool you, n/n, it was the twins' ideas.”

Wanda and Peitro each gave you a wink and a wave from off to the side as a way to confirm the man’s words.

Your eyes began tearing up slightly at the sheer kindness of it all, “Guys, you didn’t have to…”

“Of course we did!” Thor called bouncing up and down excitedly like a child.

“We couldn’t have Christmas without you, n/n!” Sam added from the couch.

“Let’s get this party started!” Clint cheered with a grin, coming around to swing an arm over your shoulder.

You laughed and allowed the man to lead you over to the tree where everyone had begun to pass out their gifts to one another, and you got right to work as well.

“I love Christmas!” Thor shouted excitedly as he looked at the wrapped box you had handed him with eyes that held nothing but joy and pure excitement.

You all laughed again at his words and continued to pass out your carefully planned out presents that may or may not have taken all of you at least three months to pick out.

When that was finished and everyone was practically bursting at the seams with gratitude for what they had gotten, Bruce and Tony quickly ushered all of you into the dining room, where a feast fit to feed an entire army sat. But you all knew that it wouldn’t take much for it all to be devoured within seconds by the team.

So the celebration continued as everyone ate, shared stories, and laughed to their heart's content.

“And then…” You trailed off because you couldn’t fit any words in between laughs, “And then he just disappeared!”

All at once, fits of giggles exploded from the room, practically shaking the walls with how loud and booming it was from everyone.

You couldn’t help but look around at your team- your family- with a soft smile, because you never could have asked for better people to be sharing the holidays with.

Once all of your plates had been cleared, Pietro had excitedly jumped up and exclaimed, “Movie time!”

You all chatted happily as you made your way to the movie room/ theater that Tony had installed for moments like this.

You all took your seats, you between Nat and Wanda, as the control screen popped up and Tony began scrolling through movie ideas.

“Elf?” He questioned.

“Yes!” Sam called.

“No!” Bucky responded at the same time.

The two glared at each other as Steve ran a hand down his face with a sigh from in between them.

“Home Alone?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

It happened again and you all rolled your eyes, “How about someone else decides?” Bruce asked tirdley, slumping back into his seat.

“Let’s just watch Christmas Vacation!” You exclaimed from your seat, wanting to put an end to their bickering already.

This time, both the men agreed and everyone was finally able to settle back and enjoy the film.

There was, of course, the occasional, “Get your hand away from me” and “I swear to god, I will feed you to pigeons” from the two of them, but that was to be expected.

All in all, you had just the day you needed after the mission that had taken away your holiday, and you had a team that cared for you very much. So much, that they had planned this entire day for you and made sure it had gone perfect.

Which it did.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami

#book places christmas event #platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #avengers x reader platonic #avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader platonic #tony stark x reader platonic #bruce banner x reader platonic #natasha romanoff x reader platonic #pietro maximoff x reader platonic #wanda maximoff x reader platonic #bucky barnes x reader platonic #sam wilson x reader platonic #clint barton x reader platonic #thor odinson x reader platonic

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saltsicklover · 1 year ago

Text

Dear Ace - Fan Mail Pt. 4

Title: Dear Ace - Fan Mail Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2900

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of blood, straight razor, angst. Sam fucking Wilson.

-- To be continued. I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) --

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

"I need to know one thing, what apartment do you live in?"

The letter burned a hole in her pocket. There was no kind greeting, no signature. Nothing that even remotely sounded like it came from Bucky. She was used to short correspondence from him, the last letter she received being only a handful of sentences long, but this was completely new. If it hadn't been addressed with his return address, she wouldn't have believed that it came from him.

She had carried it around for two days, folded up and stuffed deep into her back pocket. The letter has pulled her focus from work, her brain entirely caught up one that one sentence, those forty-three letters written in jet black ink. There are inky half prints from his fingertips that lay over the sides of the letter, each a little piece of Bucky. She runs her finger lightly over the prints while curled up in her favorite armchair, a plush blanket pulled over her body.

She fights the urge to call the whole thing a bust. Maybe having sent the first letter was a mistake. Asking for closure, dragging up a memory, trying to bury the guilt instead of just fucking feeling it, all a mistake. Maybe she deserved it, the pang of guilt ridden pain that seems to wrap itself around her ribcage, constricting and writhing.

Two days later, the letter still carried with her, just crumpled in the bottom of her bag this time, she returns from a grueling day at the Set. Her clippers died in the middle of a cut, her straight razor is way past due for a sharpening and she had been the only one to fold towels all day long. Skipped over for tips more than once, she was ready to call the day finished. A drink and her comfortable clothes waited for her.

She expected a quiet night in, a hot meal and maybe a few minutes to try and get through a few pages of the book she has been trying to get through for the last six months. What she did not expect, however, was the lone envelope she found in her mailbox.

The return address, Avengers Tower, but the name scrawled in blue ink read 'Wilson'. Her breath hitched at the sight. She brought her hand up to her chest, pressing down firmly in a makeshift attempt to ground herself. She drug herself up the stairs of her building, her brain too full of questions to even think about waiting for the elevator. If she kept moving, maybe she could keep up with her thoughts- but that isn't exactly how that works, especially when her mail key is still in her mailbox lock, the door left open.

She drops her things right when she steps through her front door, her bags hitting the floor with a harsh thud. She shakes the letter in front of the window, watching as the paper inside falls to the bottom edge of the envelope before tearing the top off crudely. Now is not the time for gentleness, not with the way her heart is beating and the sweat that is starting to slick over her skin. She cuts her finger on the paper, a trickle of red running from the new cut on the side of her finger. She brings the digit to her mouth to keep from bleeding on anything as she opens the letter, a little clumsily, with one had.

"I don't actually know your name at the time of writing this, so I am just going to call you Ace.

Dear Ace, my name is Sam Wilson, I work with Bucky Barnes. I know this is coming out of left field but you and I need to talk. Buck got your letters, he opened them after a particularly hard mission which I am sure had something to do with his reaction, but there is something else there too.

He showed our friend Steve and myself the trinkets, and everything was great until we got to that photo you sent of your home. Part of me thought it was a sick joke, taking a photo of the place they used to live before the war and passing it off as your home, but after we read the description you sent I figured it had to be true. The measurements are definitely not something you could read about in a book or find in a museum.

It looks like you live in the exact same apartment that they did all those years ago. I don't know if it was the fact that Bucky found all this out after a mission or if it was the fact that is drug up a lot of shit for him but he is shaken. Absolutely shaken. Steve is too, but he is handling it a lot better.

I think we need to meet up and have a chat. Give me a call.

-Sam Wilson

PS- Bucky doesn't know I am reaching out, and I would like to keep it that way. I could have just used Government resources to track down your number, so keep that in mind."

Ace has to fight every urge not to crumple up the paper, the desire itching her palms, but she holds back. Instead, she pulls out her phone. After typing in Sam's number carefully, double checking each digit, she crafts a message laced with concern and frustration.

"Sam, you will meet me at the shop, Sargent's English Traditional, in Hell's Kitchen tomorrow at 1400. Then we can talk. Don't be late."

Ace doesn't bother signing the text, after all, he should be expecting her to reach out. If he doesn't, that's just too damn bad. And if she has to be talking to an Avenger, she is damn well going to do so with a set of sheers in her hand- something to keep her hands from shaking.

She goes to bed at eight, not bothering to eat dinner. She buries herself in blankets, building a fort of comfort that does nothing to ease the anxiety that thrums through her. She tosses and turns, slowly but surely throwing blankets to the floor. This is destined to be a long, sleepless night.

All the next morning Ace found herself watching the clock. As each minute ticked by, creeping closer and closer to two o'clock she became for frazzled. Her whole morning had been filled with clients, each coming in for an overpriced service that only held maybe half her attention. The other parts of her mind seemed to drift from Bucky and his curt letter, the one she has tucked into her apron, then over to Sam, who would be walking into the shop at any moment.

The clock reads 13:55, she knows because she has looked at it three times in the past thirty seconds. She watches as the number flicks from 5 to 6, the bell to the font door jingling. Ace looks over to find a handsome man standing in the lobby, his deep eyes looking around cautiously.

She debates for a moment about putting on her best customer service smile before walking over, but this isn't technically work, it's personal business and she was not about to make him feel any more comfortable than his unsolicited letter made her feel. Ace walks across the dark floor with light steps, her shoulders back, head held high. Sam notices her a moment later, a polite smile spreading across his lips.

"Wilson?" She asks, her tone flat, eyebrow raised.

"Yes ma'am, that's me. And you are?" He questions, shrugging off his jacket. He hangs it on one of the empty hooks near the door.

"Ace," She smirks a bit, but the look in her eyes is less than kind. Sam lets out a little chuckle. Ace tries to pretend this is all normal as she watches his movements, the way he pulls up the sleeves of his dark shirt to the way he follows her over to her station.

She sits him down without a word before tying a neck guard around his neck. She throws a cape over his body, buttoning it less carefully than normal. She isn't sure why she is so mad at him, or why she is taking it out this way, but she is too concerned with the distaste that coats her tongue and the ever present anxiety that won't unbind itself from her form.

"You know, I don't actually need a haircut," Sam speaks up as she moves to grab her sheers from the drawer.

She smiles at him, the corners of her lips turned upward, it's almost kind, almost.

"Oh, that's okay," Ace starts, placing a hand on the back of the barber chair. She moves her other hand to pull the lever at the side, leaning him backward. "I thought I could give you a shave while we talk," Her words border on mischief and Sam watches as she pulls a tin of shave soap out of a drawer.

"Okay, just leave the goatee, would you?" He cocks an eyebrow at her, the motion more of a plea. She hums, pulling a towel out of the warmer. She folds it across his face, the heat hitting his skin with a pleasant burn.

"I have to say, I was quite surprised to have gotten your letter," Ace begins, "I am sure you are looking out for your friends, and I respect that, but I have to ask, why are you here?" She pulls the towel from his face.

"I have a couple of questions," He replies simply.

She nods at him to continue, squirting the soap with her spray bottle. She uses a brush to swirl the soap before transferring it to a bowl. With a bit more water it begins to foam. She is determined to mix all of her anxiety out of her body and into the soapy solution. Ace paints Sam's face with the foam, his dark skin disappearing under soft bubbles.

"Why did you reach out to Bucky in the first place?" Ace can't help but laugh.

"Wait, he didn't tell you?" She questions him, running the brush down the side of his neck. He shakes his head 'no'.

"I am going to give you the abridged version. When I was a kid, the a man broke into my home and killed my grandparents. They worked for Hydra. They also abused me. I came to find out, as an adult, that the man who saved me from my abusers was the Winter Soldier. I wrote Bucky initially to get some closure. My therapist thought it would help," She explains.

Ace pulls a straight razor from the Barbacide, wiping the extra liquid off on a clean towel. Sam watches her with wide eyes and he swears he saw the blade flicker in the light like some horror movie scene. Ace moves to position his head, laying the razor gently against his skin before pulling it down. Sam shivers a bit at the sound of the metal against his face.

"After I sent that first letter, I did some research on Bucky. I wanted to know more about the man that gave me a chance at life, and I guess at some point I felt brave enough to write him again and see if he wanted to make writing letters a regular thing," Between swipes she rids the used shave foam from her razor with a clean towel. She works quickly, her movements precise.

Sam listens to her words as his head is manipulated by her touch. The blade against his skin doesn't feel as foreign by the time she is done with his right cheek. She moves to the other side to start again.

"When Bucky wrote me back, I was so damn excited. I gathered a bunch of little things I found special- I wanted to share them with him. I wrote out little notes about each and everything. I guess now I see how that could have been a lot to take in," She laughs a bit, lifting his chin with her finger. "That photo is my building. I do live there. You can use your little government tools to check into it if you don't believe me. I am 201." Sam wants to laugh, but the razor against his neck keeps him from doing so.

"What else do you want to know?" She asks him, moving to shave his upper lip.

"What are you hoping is going to come out of all of this?" Sam asks the minute she pulls away. Ace takes a deep breath, the smell of shave soap soothing her sore lungs a bit. She drops her razor back into the Barbacide before pulling out another clean towel.

"I was hoping for a friend," She speaks honestly, running the towel over Sam's freshly shaven skin. She pulls a bottle out off of her station, squirting some of the product into her fingertips. "But at this point, I think that's a long shot. He did write me back, but something about it just kinda hit me funny," She rubs the product over his skin and it soothes the irritation from the razor.

Sam can't help but feel like he understands her completely in that moment. His mind flashes back to when he met Steve, his lungs and legs burning as he pushed himself to run faster, further. At first it was self serving but somewhere after the first two miles he found himself in a sort of friendship with the super soldier. If a friendship can grow out of something so simple as that, there is no reason one can't grow out of a couple of letters, Sam decides.

"What did it say?" Sam asks as Ace sits his chair back upright. She pulls the piece of paper from her apron, holding it out to him. Her stomach twists a bit when he opens it. Sam reads over it quickly before handing it back to her. "Are you going to write back?"

"I don't know," She pulls his cape off, untying the neck guard.

"Well, look at it this way. He asked you for the number. He works with the Avengers, a group of people who can have information at their fingertips in no more than a few seconds but he wrote to ask. I think that implies some sort of trust there." Sam stands, leaning forward towards the mirror to check out her handwork. He runs a hand over his cheeks, admiring the closeness of the shave.

Ace thinks over his words and they make sense. If Bucky wanted to, he could have all the information on her that he could ever want. He didn't need to ask, but he did. Sam puts a hand on her shoulder, pulling her from the depths of her thoughts.

"If I were you, kid," Sam begins, taking a deep breath like he is trying to get himself to say something he isn't quite ready to say, "Write him back," He states, "Buck is a good guy and I think this is all just a lot for him. Just- write him back." She nods at him, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

They walk up to the front of the shop together, Sam stopping at the till.

"Thank you for talking with me, Ace." He begins, pulling out his wallet.

"I'm not charging you, Sam," She states, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, I know you aren't," He pulls a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet. He puts it down on the counter, sliding it her way. She shakes her head no, trying to slide it back, but he catches her hand with his, the bill trapped firmly against the desk. "Think of it as stamp money, alright?" He smiles at her, the first real smile either of them have shared and she can't help but return it.

"Thank you, Sam. Look after Buck for me, would you?" She asks, a sheepish look on her face. He doesn't say anything, instead nodding her her as he pulls his jacket back on. Sam disappears out onto the street, the jingle of the bell announcing his absence.

That night, she pulls her stationary out, the same tan paper and blue pen that she writes all of her letters with. She takes a deep breathe before beginning to write, the words flowing out of her and onto the paper in messy letters.

"Dear Bucky, I live in apartment 201. My apartment looks out over the side street and the back ally. It's situated in the corner of the building and it's one of the only apartments that has it's own staircase in and out. Is that what you want to know?" With Warmest Regards-"

The letter is short but it says everything it needs to. The anxiety loosens it's hold on her chest as she licks the envelope, pressing it shut. She addresses it neatly, the information almost memorized now. She places a stamp on it, crooked in the corner. She can't help but feel like it represents this whole thing; slightly imperfect but still absolutely necessary.

Ace puts the letter in the outgoing mailbox on her way to work the next day and it is the surest thing she has done in a long time. The anxiety only a whisper.

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