Soul Stone Peter following around one of his favorite heroes, James Barnes, like a happy little puppy, Bucky keeping a close eye on him because here’s another little punk who wants to save everyone, Sam’s still salty about the airport webbing and a little confused “why the hell are we stuck with him of all people” Bucky: “hE’S ANOTHER TINY STEVE DO YOU THINK WE CAN LEAVE HIM WITHOUT SUPERVISION??” Sam: “What” Bucky: “Look at him, small, wants to fight things 8 times his size, just less angry”

marvelous-avengers:

Bucky would protect Peter so goddamn fast i swear on my life

Sergeant James Barnes of the 107 is noted as a hero in his history book (because that shit gets updated and in the mcu, Brooklyn’s heroes are definitely in there) and Bucky is completely unaware. Peter is also unaware of the fact that the Winter Soldier, whom he fought in Germany, and Bucky Barnes are the same person. So when Peter wakes up in the Soul World, all alone, and sees this big guy, it takes him a minute. 

“I know you. From Germany, right?” He says hesitantly as he approaches Bucky, who is sitting with Sam, who nods at Bucky and wanders off to console people. People just keep appearing, and it feels nice to Peter to see a familiar face, even if last time they were on opposite sides of a fight. “You were with C-Captain America.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs, wounds still fresh from losing Steve again. Because not only did Steve loose Bucky, but Bucky lost Steve, that stupid punk from Brooklyn he swore to protect. The one he told to not do anything stupid, and then he did a bunch of stupid stuff. The one who fought for him every day, who helped save him. And Bucky lost him all over again. 

He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair before extending it towards the kid. “The name’s Bucky.”

Peter looks confused, and blinks. “Bucky?”

Bucky isn’t sure what to make of the kid’s confusion. “Well, my name is James but I go by Bucky.”

And then as this scrawny kid from Queens takes in the massive man in front of him, the hair and the eyes and the jawline, and it clicks into place. The history lessons start coming back to him, and he remembers the faded picture of the man smiling with Captain America and the description below it: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes of the 107 and Captain America, 1941. 

He gulps, swallowing back a surprised gasp, quickly taking Bucky’s hand and shaking it. “I-It’s an honor to m-met you, sir. My name’s Peter Parker, I’m from Queens.”

Bucky smirks, just a little, and lets go, his hand falling to his side. “Yeah, I know. You’re the kid that works with Stark. Steve told me about you.”

Peter’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “C-Captain America talked about me? To you?” He looks flustered and he starts playing with his hands. He looks down at their feet and the orange nothing surrounding them. “I’ve learned so much about you.”

“Relax kid, nothing bad. Said you were really smart.” The kid looks so tiny, so young, it reminds him of a small blond friend who just had to do the right thing all the damn time. He swallows the lump in his throat. He doesn’t need this kid to be scared, much less, scared of him.

Peter looks up, almost bashful. “That’s awesome.” It makes the both of them laugh, and then it goes quiet again, save for the distant cries of the newly appearing civilians. “I just–I can’t believe I’m meeting you,” he murmurs, and Bucky does his best to keep his face neutral. He doesn’t need to be reminded of his past, of the awful things he did as the Soldier. He opens his mouth when Peter beats him to it.

“You’re my hero, sir.”

It stuns Bucky, makes his heart skip a beat. He blinks once, brows furrowed. “What?”

Peter nods vigorously, a small smile on his face. “You’re my hero,” he repeats firmer, and Bucky’s heart feels a little lighter at it. “You were the top of your class in school, the best sniper in the army, and the coolest Howling Commando. I wrote a paper on you and everything.” He’s gushing and his hands are everywhere in front of him, cheeks red as he continues blabbering and “god you’re into science and art”, and in that moment it feels like Bucky’s heart is in his throat, so big and warm it’s threatening to break through his bones. 

He shakes his head, a small but genuine smile gracing his lips as he swings his flesh arm around Peter’s shoulders and tugs him forward, a hint of nostalgia touching his heart as they walk. “Come on, kid, let’s go find the others.”

Bucky promises to himself to protect this kid with his life, this small, golden-hearted boy from Queens, who reminds him of his own (previously) small, golden-heart friend from Brooklyn.