Avengers Preferences and Imagines

Not Ideal (Bucky Barnes)

***WARNING: THIS IS "BASED OFF OF" FOOTAGE FROM TFATWS TRAILER. IF YOU HAVENT SEEN IT YET, MAYBE DONT READ THIS. YES, I AM AWARE THE SHOW HASN'T EVEN COME OUT YET, BUT PLEASE BE NICE AND ENJOY THE IMAGINE.***

Prompt: Imagine talking to Bucky after he comes home from his "couples therapy" session with Sam. 

I stared anxiously at the clock as I sipped on the cocktail I had made myself; I was starting to worry and I had hoped it would help calm my nerves. It was nearly 7:00 PM and Bucky still wasn't home yet. I couldn't stop myself from cycling through the worst-case scenarios about what could be keeping him from being on time. With his job, every bad thing that I could think of was certainly a possibility. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I heard Buckys key turn in the lock. I jumped up from my chair to greet him at the door. When he stepped through the door, he looked angry. Angry in a way that I hadn't seen from him in all the time he had been together, but he softened a bit when he realized I was waiting for him. 

I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around him, glad that nothing had happened to him and that he had come home to me in one piece. He took his boots off and hung up his coat before pulling me along after him to the living room. "Buck, you should really eat dinner-" I started, but he interrupted me by crashing his lips to mine. "Doll I love you, but that is the last thing I care about right now," he said as he pulled me down onto the couch with him so that I was lying on top of him. He wrapped his strong arms around me, ensuring that I wasn't going anywhere. "Bad day at work?" I mused, playing with a small curl in his hair. "That doesn't even begin to cover it." he scowled and I stifled a laugh. I knew things had been difficult for him lately in the wake of Steve's death and his new partnership with Sam, but I tried to encourage him to be positive about it. "Out with it Buck," I demanded, knowing the only way he would feel any better was if he got it off his chest. 

Bucky continued to lay there, stubborn as always. I usually had to try a few times to coax whatever was upsetting out of him before he ended up spitting it out. "Come on. Spit it out." I said, removing my hand from his hair. He loved when I played with his hair, and usually wasn't happy when I stopped. Sure enough, he was currently fixing me with a very adorable pout. "I'll continue when you tell me what went so wrong at work today," I said defiantly. He groaned dramatically and sat up so that he could look at me. "I had a stupid debriefing," he grumbled quietly. I was confused by this, unless he had made a major mistake during the mission, I couldn't understand what was so bad about a debriefing. "Did you make a mistake on the mission?" I asked, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. 

He just shook his head, and I furrowed my brow. "Then what was so bad about a debriefing Buck?" I asked in confusion. His face twisted into his adorable angry pout. "Because Sam was there," he said with an eye roll and a scoff. I stifled a laugh. "Ok. So, Sam was there?" I prompted, still not understanding why this was bothering him so much. I had thought that he and Sam had been doing alright lately. And by alright I mean tolerating each other with minimal violence involved. I also didn't get why he was so bothered that Sam was at a mission debriefing if Sam had been on the mission as well. It wasn't an uncommon practice for operatives to be debriefed as pairs, or even in groups. "Sam wasn't the only one there." he continued, trailing off again. God how I wished this man would just spit it out already. "Sooo who else was there?" I asked, getting slightly fed up with him. "A GOD DAMN THERAPIST!" He yelled and being unable to help it, I burst out laughing. 

Bucky stared daggers at me as I collapsed into laughter. I couldn't help it, it was the funniest thing I had heard in forever. The fact that the two of them had such a dysfunctional relationship, that a therapist was brought in to mediate was just priceless. "So... you and Sam. Had a couples therapy session?" I asked Bucky in between laughs. He did not seem to find the situation as humorous as I did. "Oh Buck I'm sorry for laughing, but you do have to admit it's pretty funny," I said, going back to playing with his hair hoping that it would comfort him. "It's not funny (y/n)! Also, it isn't couples counseling! " He cried, throwing his head back in defeat. "Ok, not funny then. But how did it go?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Well. She asked me why Sam aggravates me. Like what am I supposed to say to that? She really expected me to pick ONLY ONE reason why Sam is aggravating?! I mean, COME ON, he's the most annoying person ON EARTH!" he exclaimed. "Oh yes, how difficult. What else?" I said with mock sympathy as I questioned him. 

He hung his head a little bit. "We got into a staring contest," he admitted and I lost it again. Sam and Bucky were likely the only two people in the world who when put in the same room as a therapist, would have a staring contest with one another. "Who won?" I asked with honest intrigue. "Neither of us. Sam being the weak competitor that he is, got distracted by the therapist saying 'blink already, sweet Jesus' and I got distracted by her offensive line of questioning." I chuckled again. "A therapist asked you an offensive question?" I said with confusion, finding it hard to believe that a licensed professional would ask their client an "offensive question" to begin with. "Yup. She asked me how old I was." I sucked in a breath; that had always been a touchy subject for Bucky. Physically being in his twenties, but also over 100 years old at the same time was...well it was challenging for him. 

I pulled myself up so that I was sitting in his lap. "You know age is just a number, Buck. And I don't know any other 100-year-olds who can move quite like you do. Not to mention one who is so damn good looking" I said to him with a coy smile. This was enough to cheer him up. "You're amazing doll. I love you. So much." He said, placing a soft kiss on my lips. I got up from the couch and held my hand out to him. "Have a drink with me. Then we can do whatever you want to cheer you up." I offered. He took my hand and stood up, slinging an arm over my shoulders. "Sometimes I swear you can read my mind. You know that?" He said as we made our way towards our little bar.  

A/N: This may be garbage, IDK but I thought that it was funny so here we are!