Bucky isn’t good with modern slang. he understands it but isn’t good at applying it. Steve walks into a room to find Sam and Bucky playing a card game and sharing a box of triscuits, Bucky offers Steve the box.
“Crackers for a cracker?”
Sam is on the floor wheezing while Steve struggles to explain that’s not how its used.
Summary: Bucky’s playing a video game, and you’re helping…kinda.
A/N: Okay, so, honesty hour. The game that he’s playing in my mind is LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring. When you’re playing as Boromir and you gotta get that Orc guy to hit the statue so you can kill him… Idk. Honestly, it’s the only game I could think of (even though I haven’t played it in a decade). X’D I’m not a gamer. Enjoy, sweet loves!
You hissed when Bucky’s character died on the screen. “Ah, dude, that sucks! I thought you had him that time!”
You have no idea what he’s playing. He’s some character on some quest. But, he’s been on this boss level for, like, thirty minutes, now.
“You bastard. I’m gonna get you this time.” Bucky swore as he hit the retry button.
You felt him sigh beneath you, and you propped your head up, resting your chin on your hand, to see him grit his teeth in determination. Bucky was laying on the couch, and you’re on top of him. Your ribs lie between his hips, one of his thick legs is wrapped around yours, and the other is propped against the top of the couch. His arms were thrown behind his head on the armrest, gripping the controller tightly. This angle had a great view of those glorious triceps.
As soon as you thought ‘glorious triceps,’ you put your head back down on Bucky’s stomach and refocused on the screen, fighting the embarrassed blush rushing to your cheeks. These thoughts were creeping into your brain more frequently. You didn’t feel these things for Bucky. Sure, he was a beautiful human being, but you weren’t attracted to him, right? You were bros. …Right?
“Make him hit the statue!” You shout as the boss gets closer to Bucky’s character.
“I know, I know!” He shouts back, mashing the controls with his fingers. You feel his leg hitch tighter around yours as he tenses in concentration.
Your arms tighten around his middle as you shield your face away from the screen. This was way too stressful. You couldn’t watch him die again.
Bucky’s making little grunting noises, like he’s actually fighting this thing. Along with those grunts, you hear little popping, gurgling noises. You press your ear into Bucky’s stomach and laugh.
“What?” Bucky asks, practically swinging the controller like it’s a sword.
You laugh even harder now, realizing that he heard you giggling. “Dude, your tummy’s bubbly.” You don’t even know why it was funny.
“What?” he asks again, looking at you confused for half a second.
You slap a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. “Your stomach! It’s gurgling. It’s making noises. I don’t know why it’s so funny, dude!” You bury your face into his shirt and start giggling senselessly.
He’s staring at you, now; and he can’t look away. You were so weird. Something so trivial was making you laugh like it was the best joke you’d ever heard. He watched you turn your face towards the screen and yell, “Bucky, look out!”
But he moved too late. His character died with a swift chop to his pixelated neck. “Fucking shit!” he yelled dropping the controller in frustration.
Okay Clint adopting the Maximoff’s is cute but imagine this:
Bucky adopting them. Bucky bonding with them over Russian and Ukranian language. Sharing HYDRA horror stories. Bucky telling them more about WWII and the concentration camps their parents survived. Bucky calling them little punks and teasing Pietro over his highlights and calling Wanda the Wicked Witch of the West. Bucky playing video games against Pietro and being surprised when Wanda swoops in and kicks both their asses. Bucky, Pietro, and Wanda recovering together. Becoming Avengers together. Bucky and Pietro complaining about Steve and Clint together. Bucky Pietro and Wanda being a haPPY FAMILY OF ANGRY RUSSIAN AVENGERS PLEASE
“Left foot green,” Steve said out loud, looking at his friends who were playing the game. They were already in a very weird position and it was only a matter of time when they will fall down. Everybody drank a shot. Bruce was the one who put the new jell-o shots on the game cloth . “Okay, next one is right hand blue.” “Fuck!” Sam mumbled and tried to do his best not to fall down. He was dangerously close to you. “Hey there,” he said a little flirty. “Stop flirting with my girlfriend,” Bucky warned him and put his other free hand on your butt while he tried to drink his shot. “Steve, move!” Tony yelled. “This position sucks!” Steve spun the wheel. “Right foot red!” That was the moment when Sam had fallen down and you ended on top of him. “Sam!” you growled. “Why? WHY?!”
Steve and Bucky playing the penis game (where you progressively say penis louder and louder in public places) when they go for morning runs at the park. If anyone gives them weird looks Bucky loudly asks ‘Holy shit! is that Captain America?!’ and points in a random direction. Sam pretends like he doesn’t know them, but laughs every time the game gets really loud.
“I honestly can not decide if this is the most evil thing you’ve ever done, or the best idea you’ve ever had,” Tony says, resting his hands on his hips and surveying the carnage in the communal kitchen. “You are supposed to be the shining example for the rest of us.”
Steve just shrugs, and tips his head toward Sam, who is hiccuping on the floor, recovering from a laughing fit. “It was his idea.”
“I am the only one of you who’s been to college,” he gasps. “There are things everyone must try once in their life.”
“I have been to college,” Tony says. “A LOT of college, an alarming amount of college.”
“You were a 17 year old graduate student with social and emotional problems,” Sam says, pushing himself up onto a stool. “Any drinking you did was massively less healthy for you. This is dorm shit man, you gotta live it.”
“Your concern is very sweet,” Steve says, and Tony huffs and rolls his eyes, “but they are walking it off. Somewhere. Actually, I’m not really sure where they went.”
Tony kicks at one of the empty gallon containers, and it rolls awkwardly across the tile floor, through one of the several puddles of spilled chocolate milk and comes to rest disconsolately next to the dishwasher. Sam rests his head in his arms on the counter, giggling helplessly. Steve’s mouth twitches.
“Super spy assassins or not, I do not care, if they throw up somewhere in my Tower, I am not cleaning it up.”