A New Maybe

Spring is Known for Love, Right?

Pairings: Jason x Reader, Bucky x Anna(rmc), Bucky x teen!reader(plc), Anna x teen!reader(plc)

Words: 2.7k-ish

Warnings: This contains series spoilers!

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"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date..." You ramble off as you toss your backpack over your shoulder and scramble into the kitchen, hopping on one foot as you try to squeeze the other into its shoe.

"No dates," Bucky quips, shaking his hand as he burns his fingers on the toaster and throws one of the perfectly golden crispy bread slices at you, which, of course, you catch with practiced ease, "Not 'till you're thirty."

"Unlikely," you mumble around the bread locked between your lips and pull your hair back in a ponytail. You have to get a new alarm clock, this is the third time it's failed you this month. Clearly, you've done something against Darth Vader's wishes for him to be tormenting you like this.

Bucky glares at you, "Thirty, or until I approve, and that will be unlikely."

Anna rushes into the kitchen, taking the slice of jam toast Bucky offers her with a peck to his lips and she snatches her keys off the counter, "I've gotta go, you got the bus?"

Your eyes snap to the clock, and the bread slips out of your mouth and slaps on the floor, "The time! The bus is going to be gone in like five minutes!" you groan, and your mom glances at the glowing numbers on the stove.

"I've got a meeting in an hour, I can't drop you off," Anna says in a state of panic and Bucky grabs his keys off the counter as you pick up your food.

"I'll take you," he says quickly and kisses your mom's lips before backing away, "I'll take care of this, you get to your presentation. You're gonna do amazing, I love you."

"Good luck, Mom!"

"Thank you, I love you," Anna shouts as Bucky starts to push you out of the apartment, "Wait—You brought your bike..."

"She'll wear your helmet," Bucky says knowingly, grabbing his leather jacket from off the back of the couch, "And yes, I have one too, don't worry, we'll be okay. I love you, good luck at work."

"Love you, be safe." With a nod from Bucky, the door closes and both you race to the parking lot.

Bucky tosses you his leather jacket when you reach the motorcycle, "Put it on," he says and grabs helmets from the added compartment under his seat.

"What about you?" you ask as you slip the way oversized jacket over your shoulders.

"I'll be fine, but you..." he trails off, placing the helmet on your head, tightening the straps to fit, "You'd get ripped apart if we crashed, and that's not something I'm willing to risk. Now get on, we're really late."

Bucky slips on the bike and starts it, motioning you over and chuckles when you hesitate, "Your mom had the same look on her face when I asked her to ride with me the first time. C'mon, you'll be okay, promise."

You, in return, do the human expression of asdfghjkl, before groaning and climbing on behind him, "Fine, but if I die, I'm haunting your ass."

"Language."

"Yeah, I kno—"

Bucky jerks the bike forward, and you squeak as he pulls out of the parking space. You can neither confirm nor deny the fact that you hug him tighter and hide your face in his back so you don't have to watch your impending death, but you suppose the laughter shaking Bucky's chest answers that for everyone.