#wait Bart I was just joking don’t actually call her doc BART HANG UP

[weirdo-from-bonesborough]

Tim: are you just Connie now or is Connie short for Constance?

Connie: it’s short for serving CONT

Tim:

Connie: like serving cunt

Tim: I get it.

Connie:

Tim:

Connie: yeah it’s just Connie

[sunlightdances]

out of the blue, i fell for you

-- “Being a bank teller is my day job. What about you? Avenging by day, bar crawling by night?”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Words: 2,491 Rating: PG Author’s Note: Got the prompt “don’t look away from me” from this list.

Bucky is -- angry isn’t the right word. He actually feels strangely calm about the whole thing, even considering this was supposed to be his one day off before a mission with the team to Wakanda for a few weeks.

He’s frustrated, sure. Annoyed, definitely. But backing up Parker isn’t the worst job in the world. Especially when the kid nearly trips over his feet trying to apologize the minute Bucky shows up.

“Sergeant Barnes! I am so, so, so sorry. I was walking home, and I was going to do my homework because Mr. Stark said if I don’t get A’s I can’t go on the next mission, and so I was heading home, and--”

Bucky makes circular motions with his hands, “Can we speed this up to the part where you walked into a literal bank robbery?”

“Right. I was walking by and I heard a lot of shouting, so I came inside, and these guys,” he gestures to two large men sitting in office chairs with their hands tied behind their backs, “were in the middle of trying to rob the place.”

Bucky nods, assessing the room. There are a few customers milling about, all looking a bit shaken. “Look, no offense, but why am I here? It looks like you’ve got this under control. Landed a few punches too. Not really your style... ”

Peter looks sheepish. “Uh, yeah. Well-- see, the thing is, when I came inside, these guys were already like this.”

Bucky blinks. “What?”

“Yeah. I came in here, full Spidey, and this lady already pretty much had it taken care of. I tied them up before I called you, but the rest was all her. I’m pretty sure she broke her hand, though.”

Bucky looks past Peter to the counter where you’re sitting in a roller chair, cradling your left hand to your chest. You looks up briefly and make eye contact with him, and Bucky feels like he’s been punched in the chest. He sighs, “I’ll take care of this. Did you call NYPD about these guys?” He asks Peter, who nods. “We’ll hang out until they get here. Give me a minute.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, but instead heads over to where you’re looking equal parts defiant and sheepish. He kneels down in front of you and slowly reaches for your hand, silently asking permission to take a look.

“Taking out bank robbers is your day job, huh?” He asks quietly, turning your hand this way and that, watching as you wince and try not to look at two obviously broken fingers.

“Being a bank teller is my day job. What about you? Avenging by day, bar crawling by night?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t bar crawl. Just really go to the one.” He winks, satisfied when you’re clearly trying not to smile.

“Shit, that hurts.” You say, looking down at your hand. “Oh, that looks---” You slam your eyes shut and Bucky watches as you go a couple shades too pale. “Oh, no.”

“Hey.” Bucky tries to get your attention. “Hey, don’t look at it, don’t think about it. Just look at me.” He waits until you meet his eyes. “Don’t look away from me.”

Your tear-filled eyes meet his, and Bucky has never wished more in his life to be the hero everyone’s always trying to convince him he is. This isn’t life or death here, not today, but he feels the responsibility of making sure you trust him weigh on his shoulders. It’s more important to him than he wants to admit.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes-- Sergeant B--”

“Yeah, Parker.”

“The police need to talk to her. And you, probably. And me, also. But-- I don’t-- what do we say? We didn’t do anything…”

Bucky tries not to roll his eyes. You must see it, because he feels your uninjured hand snake in between you and him and pinch his side lightly. He’s got his tac gear on, but he feels it nonetheless.

“Then that’s what we tell them,” He says, straightening to his full height. To you, “Are you going to be okay here for a second?”

“Fine.”

“Do you know her or something?” Peter whispers as they walk away.

“Or something.” Bucky agrees.

He’s met you a few times. Nothing official. You barely know each other besides first names. There’s a bar in Brooklyn he likes to go to. He goes there when it gets to be too much… it’s comforting. It’s a place he vaguely remembers from his early twenties, before the war, before… everything.

You’re the bartender.

You never ask too many questions, never let on that you know who he is at all, until today. You let him sit there nursing a drink even though he can’t get drunk, and talk when he wants to talk.

He also thinks you’re probably the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, but that’s neither here nor there.

Bucky is still not used to being a liason, or whatever, to the police. He doesn’t like talking to them if he can help it. He thinks it’s the way they look at him - like they’re still expecting him to go full Soldier on them if they say the wrong thing.

He does his job though, telling him he got the call from Peter, who thought he ran into something he might need help with. By the time Bucky got there, it was under control. No Avenging necessary.

Sitting out of the mission most of the rest of the team were on this weekend, Bucky was left with strict instructions to “not let the kid get in over his head”, and he has to admit he was only taking it semi-seriously until today. But really - it’s like he’s a magnet for trouble. Bucky tries to take it in stride. Peter sort of reminds him of Steve, anyway.

He watches, arms folded across his chest as the police get the statement they need from you, his eyes observing your body language for any sign that you’re too uncomfortable. You look a little shaken up, and definitely in pain, but otherwise seem almost confident as you describe how you managed to sneak up behind the guys, a few swift kicks to the backs of their knees sending them sprawling before getting a few left hooks in. That was when Peter showed up.

After the police get their statement and haul the two idiots off in cuffs, Bucky walks back over to you. He’s not sure where the confidence is coming from, but he’s talking before he can think about it. “If you wanna avoid the ER, I know a place.”

You smirk. “Some back alley nursing?”

Bucky chuckles, “Not quite. If you’d rather go to the hospital…”

You wave him off. “I hate hospitals. Let’s go.”

Bucky sends Peter home with a plea to please, please, just go straight there and do his homework before his aunt tries to murder Bucky for keeping him out too late. Bucky figures he can handle the paperwork for this brief rescue mission for the both of them.

“He looks up to you,” You say with a smile as you and Bucky start walking towards a large SUV parked near the curb.

Bucky blushes. He does not blush. “He’s a good kid,” he tells you as he opens the passenger side door for you. He helps you inside with a guiding hand on your elbow. “He just has a penchant for finding trouble.” He smiles at you before shutting the door, jogging around to the other side of the car.

When he gets in, you’re looking at him already, and he feels your gaze like a physical touch. He clears his throat and starts the car, looking for traffic before he pulls out onto the street.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think you could drive,” you admit.

Bucky smirks. “I was brainwashed for seventy years, not living under a rock.”

You make a noise like something’s stuck in your throat.

“Sorry,” Bucky says, “Sometimes it’s easier to joke about it.”

“Noted.”

The ride to Avengers Tower takes only a few minutes. Bucky parks in the underground garage, greeting F.R.I.D.A.Y cheerily when he gets out. “Let the Medbay know I’ve got a patient coming in. Broken hand and a possible dislocated wrist.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes.” The AI replies, and you look at him, amused.

“Is this really necessary?”

“You’ll think so once you meet Dr. Cho. She’ll have you fixed up in minutes.”

“Why do I think you’re speaking from experience?”

Bucky winks. “Trust me.”

Helen keeps trying to needle out of you know you and Bucky know each other, but Bucky’s grateful you keep it pretty vague. Not that there’s much to tell. Still, Bucky’s grateful that the entire time isn’t here to interrogate him or you about this.

True to form, you’re patched up in a half hour. You can barely feel the pain.

“Not much I can do for those broken bones, but the wrist should be totally healed by morning.” Helen says, and you smile at her, a smile Bucky’s coming to realize he wants to see a lot more of.

“Thanks, Doc.” Bucky says quietly, and she sends him a knowing look over your shoulder.

“Anything for my favorite super soldier.”

Bucky chuckles. “You only say that when Steve isn’t around.”

She shrugs. “No one has to know.”

He laughs, and feels something warm bubbling up inside him when you sidle up next to him, looking up at him with intense, honey-brown eyes. He thinks he could get lost in them if he let himself. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”

The two of you leave the Medbay and walk in silence for awhile. The entire tower is all sleek modern finishes, glass walls and floor to ceiling windows. It’s suitably impressive, and for once Bucky doesn’t feel lost inside the building.

You end up in the lounge on one of the middle floors, the open area where everyone usually ends up after dinner or after a mission.

“Thanks again, for this.” You say, gesturing to your arm that’s now in a sling and your fingers in splints. “Not sure how I’m going to do much work after this…”

“Didn’t think that through before you handed out some vigilante justice?” Bucky can’t help but tease you, loving the mock glare you send his way. “I should tell Steve about this. He’d probably try to recruit you.”

You laugh, the sound like tinkling bells. “Listen, those two dummies were the worst criminals in the world. I didn’t do much.”

Bucky leans his head on his hand, content to sit here and watch you talk all night if he gets the chance. “Still. It was very impressive.”

You roll your eyes, but mirror his position. “So if I’m not bartending for awhile, how am I supposed to know what you’re up to?”

It’s an invitation if Bucky’s ever heard one, and he’s not going to let this opportunity slip away from him while he has the chance. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be the cocksure man he was before the War, but he isn’t a total idiot. “I suppose we could exchange phone numbers…” He says, watching the light in your eyes dim just a bit. “I could also take you out to dinner.” He shrugs. “Just, you know, to keep in touch.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah.” You say, lips twitching as you fight off a smile. “That sounds…. Yeah. I’d like that.”

Bucky smiles. “Me too.”

.

.

.

Two months later, Bucky is waiting in line at a credit union. It’s honestly something he’s never really done before, and he feels like every eye in the room is on him.

When he gets to the window, he clears his throat. “Hi, I need to open a savings account, and I need one million dollars in singles.”

Your unamused eyes meet his. “Uh huh. I can give you fives, or tens…”

“That’ll work.”

Next to Bucky, Peter mumbles. “Is this how older people flirt?” He winces when Bucky gives him a warning glare.

“You know, I am busy.”

“Right. Well, lucky for you, we’re here on official business.”

“Is that so.”

“Peter needs a savings account. Now that he’s got a job, he needs to save for college.”

“I don’t see why I have to even go to college, if I’ve got enough money being--”

Bucky elbows him before he can tell the entire bank he’s Spiderman. “You’re going to college. You need to keep learning. It’s good for you.” He looks back at you, a million dollar smile on his face. “Can you do this, or do we need to--”

“I can help you, and for the record I think it’s really sweet that you’re doing this for him.”

Bucky blushes, and Peter makes a gagging noise. “Gross.”

“Watch it, Parker.” He looks back at you. “We still on for tonight?”

“Course.” You reply, blushing when you realize a coworker is definitely listening in. “Now get out of here, I need to do my job. I can take care of this with Peter.”

Bucky starts to lean in before remembering the bullet-proof glass. “Pick you up at seven.”

“Wow, can you please go before I puke?” Peter complains, ducking as Bucky tries to smack the back of his head.

“We’re training before dinner,” Bucky reminds the younger man, “Don’t forget and don’t be late.” His voice and temperament change entirely when he looks back at you. “And I’ll see you later, too.”

You smile, nodding. “Yeah, you will.”

“Don’t tie up any criminals while I’m gone,” Bucky calls before heading out the door, whistling as he goes.