#buckybarnesheadcanons

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THUNDERBOLTS TOWER SHORT FIC: you got injured.

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It had been a week since your last mission—the one where you’d gotten injured pretty badly; a nasty cut to the leg.

You’d convinced the team you were fine, or at least tried to. But to no surprise of course, no one bought it.

They didn’t baby you—that wasn’t really your team’s style. But they had their own subtle ways of showing concern; someone always brought food to your room without you asking. John hadn’t nagged you about training in days. Bob made sure your favorite drinks always ended up in the fridge after his grocery runs.

Now, you sat on the edge of your bed, mentally bracing yourself to stand. You knew you were pushing it—the wound still burned when you moved the wrong way—but you couldn’t keep being dependent on the team. You had to get back to normal.

You grunted as you pushed yourself upright, pain immediately stabbing through your leg. Almost immediately, Ava phased through the wall. She didn’t even flinch as she gently pushed you back down onto the bed.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?”

“Walking?” You answered simply.

“What for?”

“I just wanted a snack from the kitchen, Ava. And didn’t we talk about knocking first—”

Ava immediately cut you off, “Nope. That went out the window the second you decided to violate your healing instructions. Didn’t Val tell you to rest?”

“And you just do whatever Val tells you to?”

“Y/N.” Her tone was flat now, her usual sarcasm gone.

You sighed, letting your head fall back in surrender. “Fine. Sorry.”

Ava smiled, and phased back through the wall, only to return seconds later with snacks in hand.

Your eyes lit up as she handed them to you. “How’d you know?”

“A thank you would suffice.” Ava replied.

“Thanks, Ava.”

Later that night, when the team inevitably found out what had happened, Alexei gave you a long, loud, exhausting rant about the importance of listening to your body, taking care of your physique, and not doing “reckless nonsense.” Bucky crossed his arms and just stared at you like a disappointed father. The worst kind of judgment.

You were sat on the couch as the team towered over you.

“Y/N, I will literally duct tape you onto your bed.” Yelena threatened as she rummaged through one of the cabinets for duct tape.

“You disrespected your body, your vessel! When I was your age, I fought with a shattered rib, in the coldest winter St. Petersburg had seen in decades. No food, no backup, nothing!” Alexei started, whenever he started ranting you knew it’d last atleast half an hour. You opened your mouth. He raised a finger.

“Don’t interrupt. I am educating you.”

You groaned into a pillow as he continued his rant.

But as you finally tucked yourself into bed, a quiet smile spread across your face. You didn’t have a biological family anymore. But you had them. The Thunderbolts.

And for once, that felt like more than enough. But dear God you were terrified of the possibility of being taped onto your bed by Yelena.

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omg.. finally my first writing post here 🫩🫩 i hope yous enjoyed that, english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry for any mistakes i may have made..

if you have any scenarios you’d want me to write about, do tell me :33 i love writing about my beloved found family

a/n: i'm so madly and completely in love with bucky, so this is what i think would be like to be loved by him. if you disagree with these, boohoo!

I HOPE YOU ARE READY, BECAUSE TODAY WE ARE DIVING IN AND FIGURING OUT WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO BE STEVE ROGERS AND BUCKY BARNES’ FRIEND WAY BACK WHEN...

so these boys were wholesome, and you had known them your whole life

ever since school, really

you had met steve first, and then the other kids started to bully the two of you and bucky was over in a nanosecond

no one was going to make fun of steve and this small child on his time

and, yes, you were small back then

wasn’t everyone???

even bucky was, for a while, but he had an attitude that was big enough to project strength

and he told you and steve many times that you just had to think you were big enough

it was all in your head, really

project power and you had it

and as the three of you grew up, bucky filled out to fit that attitude of his

or “big head” as steve used to call it

and you grew up too, but not as much as bucky

but enough that you wouldn’t hesitate to have words with people who tried to pick on steve

if you’re not a naturally confrontational person, you are now, because you are fiercely loyal and no one is going to insult your friends on your watch

bucky was secretly vvv proud, but also rolled his eyes a lot because you were going to get yourself killed one of these days, trying to protect everyone but yourself

and that was in junior high, when steve was still coming into his own

by high school, he was a tiny ball of rage that was ready to punch nazi’s in the nose

and then it was bucky AND you holding steve by the shoulders

“steve, no...”

“steve, yes.”

“no...”

but there were other important facets to your dynamic too

you would draw with steve

you and bucky were terrible at it, but you mostly did it to support steve’s interests

“what the hell is that?”

“it’s a drawing of you, idiot.”

“are you blind?”

“no, buck, i can see the resemblance.”

“why am i even friends with you two?”

“beats me.”

and you would read with bucky

it was one of his ways to destress

you would trade books and every so often, you would debate over which ones were your favorite

and both of them would help you cook

both of them were actually really good at it

and when you didn’t have a lot of food, they were always creative enough to put together a halfway decent meal

and then the war comes

and everything changes

and when you find out that both of them are dead, you can’t believe it

did you really win the war?

sometimes it feels like you were lost in it.

but you had to keep going, somehow

project power and you had it, right?

and you had scraps of paper that steve had drawn on, and you had a pile of books in the corner of your room, and you had two cans of beans on the shelf that would remind you of them

and you didn’t know what to do but start writing

steve, little but angry, wanting nothing more than to join the war and then finally getting the chance...

bucky, powerful but caring, wanting nothing more than to keep those he loved safe...

you had all their stories, here, in fading lead on worn paper

and part of you always hoped they had survived

sometimes you would get nightmares - that bucky had survived but was trapped somewhere horrible

that steve could hear his suffering but was drowning...

but then you would pray that your hopes didn’t betray your goodness

the last thing you wanted for them was to suffer

they had already suffered so much...

and maybe you see steve again, much later when you can see the age that you have always felt

and he somehow hasn’t changed at all

and maybe you wonder if he’s an angel come to take you away

but he grabs your hand and he feels like he’s here

and you give him some of the things you still have - scraps of paper and dog eared books

and maybe you tell him that you used to have nightmares that he had survived

and maybe you say that dreams about bucky surviving used to haunt you too

and maybe he shivers at those words, despite himself