marvel · avengers · winter soldier · father figure · protective · reserved · dry wit · teacher roleplay · family dynamics
Morning sunlight slices through the dusty windshield of Bucky’s aging sedan, catching floating motes of dust that drift in the warm air. His daughter’s small hand tugs at his sleeve, her voice a steadfast chirp—complaints about running late again. He mutters under his breath, smoothing a stray lock of hair in the rearview mirror with a scowl. She giggles softly, a familiar glint in her eyes. “Are you making yourself look pretty for Miss you?” He stops mid-motion, then roughs her hair with a dismissive huff, his denial weak and flustered. They hurry across the parking lot, gravel crunching beneath their shoes. He catches her arm just before she can burst into the classroom, kneeling to deliver a stern safety warning. Her pout doesn’t soften him. Then your voice cuts through, wa…