“All you superheroes go around, destroying walls and cars in the name of world peace like you own the damn thing. “Insurance isn’t going to cover this.” You drag your palm across your fist before extending it towards him. You take a few steps closer, jumping down from the elevated platform. He only watches as you whine, looking beyond him at your now demolished entrance. “You’re an Avenger, just fuckin’ pick the lock or something. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t lower his gun either. “Dude!” you cry out, face twisting into what only could be described as a mix of horror and disdain. “What’d you do that for?” He squints when all the lights turn on, pulling the both of you from darkness. You reach over to the side, pressing a few switches. He can finally see you as you stand up, green light illuminating your face. He looks behind him to where the wooden piece is on the floor. “I’ve been expecti-” the voice pauses mid-sentence- “Did you just kick down my door?” He raises his gun, feet apart in a defensive stance. Someone’s laughter comes back loud and booming. All the way at the other end on an elevated platform is a desk and a chair facing away from him. The only light source inside is a green light. It falls down ungracefully, loud and creaky like it was bound to the doorframe by rust. He counts to three, lifting his leg to kick it down. The only entrance is the door in the front. It looked more like an abandoned Walmart than an actual villain lair. It was flat and felt more like an afterthought than an actual building. The address is a dingy, plain concrete house near an old construction site. He didn’t want to have to walk back to the Tower, and his friends, as much as they loved him, would never go out of their way to pick him up. He finally pulls the bike to a stop a few metres away, leaving it out of reach in case things got too out of hand. Enough knives to make a butcher look away in shame, and guns including, but not limited to, his biceps. Smaller villains tended to be more aggressive, vicious to prove their point. “Just stop her from doing whatever dumb plan she has today.
SHIELD didn’t seem particularly bothered either. So when there’s news of a small time villain creating havoc again, it made sense that he volunteered to go sort it out. No one wants their room to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s stress-cleaning sessions. It’s easy, therefore, to find him brooding when he’s not on one. Official missions are long and gruelling, and oftentimes not fun. The wind rushing by gets his adrenaline racing. The bike ride to the other side of town for a minor mission takes longer than he expected. He won’t like it in a while, but he would never admit it.
He says he likes it, to appease his blond-haired best friend who insisted that he wear a cardigan at least. It’s a personal choice, a fashion statement even, to be roaming the streets in a long flimsy t-shirt that does nothing to accentuate his broad shoulders, and tactical pants that look a little too comfortable. His long hair, though a spectacle in itself, isn’t as good at keeping away the cold as he claims it to be. His SHIELD salary is definitely enough to afford him a simple beanie, gloves even if he’s that eager. Stats: Published: Completed: Words: 118356 Chapters: 23/23 Comments: 322 Kudos: 992 Bookmarks: 247 Hits: 22378īucky Barnes, for all intents and purposes, is edgy.
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