Marvel Oneshots

Late Night Stories (Bucky x kidR!)

"Bucky.." I whisper, standing next to his bed.

"Buckyyy..."

*poke poke*

"Gghh" He grumbles.

His flesh arm automatically swats my small hand away, before shoving his face back into his pillow. He lays on his stomach, his body close to the edge.

I run my fingers through his long brown hair and he relaxes under my touch- the complete opposite of what I was trying to accomplish.

I then purposely yank on his hair a bit

"What the fuck?" He hisses and his head darts up, his hair covering his eyes.

"Buckyyy.." I quietly whine.

"Y/n? What the hell? What's going on?" He asks, groaning as he props himself up on his elbows.

"I can't sleep." I say, frowning.

"And what do you want me to do about it? Put you to sleep?" He scoffs.

I dramatically sigh and roll my eyes.

"I dunno.. Just talk with me? Get me a snack or somethin'?" I plead, leaning on the side of the tall bed.

He sighs and drags a hand down his face, moving his hair out of the way.

"Nighttime is for sleeping. Not telling stories. Go to bed. Eight year olds need sleep." He says.

"First off, I'm ten. Secondly, I can't sleep- that's why I'm here" I groan.

"Oh for the love of-" He sighs, pausing.

"I'm not moving out of this bed.. You can share it with me if you want, but only if you'll be quiet. No talking. Sleeping." He says, dropping his head on the pillow, looking at me tiredly.

"Mmm.. Okay." I say, agreeing.

I walk around the bed and I hoist myself up laying next to Bucky. He lays on his stomach, hugging the pillow as his face is turned away from me.

I pull the blanket up to my chin and lay on my back, staring at the plain ceiling.

Minutes go by and my eyes still refuse to fall closed. I quietly exhale, fidgeting with my fingers.

I then feel Bucky shift next to me so now he lays on his side, facing towards me. When he sees that I'm still awake, his gravelly voice speaks up.

"I still have some of my memories of my life before HYDRA, they keep coming back. They're oftentimes about Steve." He quietly says, his eyes softening at the memory.

I shift so I lay on my side, facing him as he starts to tell the story.

"This one time during his birthday, his mom made this huge cake and..." His hushed voice carries on as my eyelids begin to drift closed.

The last thing I hear is the faintest "goodnight, doll" before I fall into a dreamless slumber.