Avengers x Reader One-shots

Little Soldier

Request from @ReadingIsLikeReading: Can you do a oneshot where the reader is an 8-year-old orphan, and when the team finds (Y/N) and takes care of them, the reader likes Bucky the best?

Yes -- I love it. 

"Oh my God, Tony, there is a kid in here."

At the strange man's voice, you shrunk deeper into the corner of the cell. Maybe if you thought they couldn't see you, they wouldn't. Any voice that wasn't your own was a scary one. 

The sound of metal smashed against the ground, and you winced, the loud noise piercing your ears.

HYDRA, as much as they were into creating brave soldiers, did everything they could before you were 12 years old to educate and scare you. Their way of educating you was strict and highly disciplined. 

The sound of bullets pierced the air, and you noticed a gun on the man in white, red, and blue. You covered your ears, as each bullet reminded you of a scream. 

HYDRA scared its prodigies into compliance. By showing you horrendous pictures of soldiers with battle wounds, they scared you into listening to their 'self-defense' tips. They made examples of students who refused to do so. Guns were terrifying and war was something that should be avoided. However, HYDRA forced guns into your hands, saying that the goal of HYDRA was to get rid of problems before they started bigger ones. 

You assumed you were eight, meaning you still had four years left of terror, day after day. HYDRA didn't find age relevant. No matter your age, you should be able to accomplish their tasks. 

"Like Peter or Wanda's age?"

"No," the man said, messing with the lock on your cell. "At least half the age."

The man of metal came from around the corner. His movements were fidgety as if he were trying to get out of here as soon as possible. You didn't blame him.

"FRIDAY, scan for abilities."

You widened your eyes as a green grid outlined the shape of your body. Who was FRIDAY? You clenched your jaw, preparing yourself for something painful. You were pleasantly surprised, though, when the procedure didn't hurt at all. 

"None found, sir. However, adrenaline levels in the subject are much higher than the average person."

The two men glanced at each other.

"Super-soldier. We have to get the kid out of here," the red, white, and blue man said. 

"Hold on, we have to think about this," the metal man replied. "Regardless of whether or not the kid has powers, they could still be dangerous."

"It doesn't mean we should leave her here to be blown up with the rest of the base!"

At his words, you couldn't hide anymore. You had seen multiple people being blown up on TV, and it didn't look pleasant at all. 

"любезно... I mean, please," you begged, your English rusty, "get me out of here. Even if it's by a gun, I don't want to be here anymore. Just make it quick."

Now that you had come into the light, the two men could see you clearly. You were skinny and had on a gray shirt with black cargo pants and combat boots. They tried to make an 8-year-old look like a soldier. 

The metal man's eyes softened. 

"I'll get Romanoff and help her start up the jet. Steve, you take care of her. We'll meet back at the Quinjet."

Steve nodded and looked back at you. "Stand back kid," he told you as he pulled out his shield. 

You heeded his command and watched in awe as he easily smashed the lock with a swing of his shield.