Bucky Barnes & Sebastian Stan Imagines

B.B. - young

Summary: You're much younger than the other Avengers, especially Bucky, who's technically the oldest at 106, but also 32. You and Bucky secretly get together, but when the others find out, it'll be hell to pay.

>>>

I hate being the youngest. I was the youngest of four, I was the youngest in my high school graduating class at age 13, the youngest of my college graduating class at 17, and now the youngest Avenger at 19. Tony treats me like a kid, Natasha treats me like a kid, Thor treats me like a kid, and Steve treats me like a fucking 12 year old. I. Hate. Being. The youngest.

Everyone treats Wanda and Pietro like adults, but they're only a year older than me. I'm the only one who's treated different, yet I'm just as smart, if not smarter, than Tony Stark. They don't even let me go on any interesting missions, either. I'm stuck going on petty crime arrests, otherwise I'm in the lab working on a new bulletproof nanotech insert for everyone's gear.

I did enjoy my time in the lab, it was my escape from being treated like a child. Bruce was kind of like having an uncle - he respected me and my limits, pushed me to work harder, and didn't treat me like everyone else did. There was also Wanda and Pietro, but Pietro usually poked fun at me and pretended to be superior to me. He meant it all as a joke, though. Clint treated me like I was his own kid by looking out for me, but never fussed over my age.

Then there was Bucky. He was protective, but knew I could handle myself when I needed to. He was my shoulder to cry on when I was upset, and did almost anything and everything I asked of him. Bucky always had my back, and never let me go it alone, no matter the scenario. Except this time.

> now >

I had been so excited to finally go on a real mission and take on the big bad guys that were trying to revive HYDRA. Well, go figure, that didn't go so well when I went off-script of the plan and decided to try and interrogate one of the leaders of the HYDRA group. The armed guards grabbed me and threw me into a hidden cellar, taking my weapons, my uniform, and my hair. They took an electric razor and shaved bottom section of my hair off, cutting the rest down to just a few measly inches that didn't even reach my chin.

That was five days ago. No water. No food. Just me, my half shaved head, and my shorts and sports bra in a cold, dark cellar with no way out but the locked hatch in the ceiling. I rubbed my hands against my biceps to try and create some heat, but with no success. I hugged my knees, wondering how long it was going to take for me to starve to death.

I'd been hungry for five days, from what I could tell. I slept for maybe an hour or two this whole time, and my throat was so dry I couldn't even choke on the sobs that should've been screaming out of me. I was crying what was left of the water I'd drank before I left the tower, knowing I'd end up dying down here some day soon. No one was coming for me.

There was a noise from above me. There hadn't been a sound since I'd been locked down here, so that was something knew. I picked my head up, looking for the direction of the sound's source. There was a loud bang on the hatch above me and I jumped. There was shuffling and dragging, then a screech of protest as the hatch opened and a blinding light leaked in. I shielded my eyes, hugging my knees closer and waiting for more torture to ensue.

But rather than torture, I heard a voice that was as sweet as honey and a comforting amount of bass. "Y/n, is that you?" I looked up, squinting to see the face of Bucky looking down at me, his hair pulled back in a bun to keep it out of his way.

I tried to speak but it came out choked. I cleared my throat, trying to swallow whatever spit I had left. "Bucky," I said, letting go of my knees and standing up.