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bbuckyybbarness-blog · 7 years

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Upstairs, Downstairs Part 1

Summary: A painfully shy dental assistant at the tower gets an unexpected group of friends, and with them comes a whole new world that she never bargained for.

EVENTUAL Bucky x Reader. Reader becoming close friends with the team, especially Steve.

Written in 1st Person, POV of the reader, unless otherwise stated.

TW: Swearing, extreme shyness, that’s really it for this chapter?

Word Count: 1455

A/N: Hi Dolls! So this is a request I received from the lovely Sascha (@loveyourselfcreateyourself). It started out as a one shot that is now going to be in a couple of parts, because as soon as I started writing it, I got carried away, my mind took over! Anyway, enough from me, I love all your support and feedback! Thank you so much <3

P.S – I have a Steve x Reader one shot that will be coming soon, and a Sebastian Stan x Reader piece ready to go, so keep your peepers open for those if you’re interested. Also, please let me know if you want to be permanently tagged in my stuff, as I’d be happy to oblige. Again, I love y’all –Rae xo

1. What the fuck have I got myself into?!

“Ugh.” The alarm, the stupidly loud, annoying alarm. Look, whoever told me that setting your favourite song as your alarm tone is a good idea, was a damn liar. “Time to get this show on the road Y/L/N”

I dragged my ass out of bed and started the routine. Brush my teeth, hop in the shower, dry myself, get dressed…well, you know the drill. The same old shit day in and day out. Not that I’m complaining, I have a good life. A good job, a steady wage, there’s really nothing I should complain about. But, and it’s a small but, I’m lonely. I know right, pass me the violin. I’m so shy that I can’t make friends easily, and when people talk to me, I freeze like a deer in the headlights. I’m so painfully shy, that I physically cannot talk to someone without looking like I’m in pain, and people mistake this for me being a stuck up bitch. I’m not, honestly I’m not, believe me, if I could talk to people without choking on the words, trust me, I would. It would make my job a million percent easier, and I might have even become a dentist by now, but such is life, things could be worse.

So, with that bombshell roaming around my head, and let’s face it, when is it not roaming around my head, I headed to work. I open the door and the crisp morning air slaps me in the face, as if to say, ‘wake up.’ I start my usual walk to the tower, overthinking the social interaction with the Chinese delivery boy last night, when I mindlessly check the time. 8;57?! Shit. I start at 9.

I sprint the entire way to the tower. I could give Usain Bolt a run for his money if I carry on the way I’m going. I was so focused on getting to the tower, that I wasn’t even thinking about the glass door. And yep, you guessed it, I run straight into it. At full speed. This sends me and my glasses flying to the ground. I pick myself up, dust off my uniform and reach around for my glasses. Like Velma, from Scooby Doo. When I finally find them, they’re broken.

‘Shit, great, this is perfect, fan-dabby-fucking-dozy’ I mutter to myself, ‘And now I’m five minutes late, for fucks sake.” Time to face the music, and probably get fired.

“You’re late.” Dr Green never even looked up from his paper. This Professor Snape looking asshole was the bane of my very existence. The only thing I hate about work is this cretin.

“I know I am Sir, I am so very sorry, it won’t happen again, I had some trouble on the way here, and then I fell down, and broke my glasses and-“ I trailed off, explaining myself as quickly as I could to avoid being given the heave-ho.

“Not bothered, don’t care. So, you’re late to work, and show up blind. Brilliant. Fat lot of good you’re going to be today. Go and fetch in the next patient Y/L/N, IF you can see him,” Fuck this guy. He’s such an asshole. He manages to make me feel unqualified AND about two inches tall within 10 seconds. He insists on me calling him Sir or Dr, which automatically makes me hate him. I mean come on, you’re a fucking dentist dude. You don’t go saving people’s lives and shit on the regular. No, that’s what the Avengers are for. Asshole.

“Yes Sir.” I slam the door. God he pisses me off. “Thank god I did break my glasses, means I won’t have to look at your ugly mug all fuckin’ day” I mumble under my breath.

“Ooh shit, who pissed you off sweetie?” Sam Wilson. Of course he heard you, and he was the patient today, brilliant. If your lateness didn’t give you the boot, cursing in front of an Avenger was certainly going to seal the deal.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry for the profanity, sir. No one was meant to hear that. Dr Green is ready for you“ And he laughs. No actually, he doesn’t laugh. He howls. This dude is screaming his ass off at me.

“What’s your name?” We could use someone who is a good laugh like that upstairs. Ease the tension” Upstairs. UPSTAIRS?! Upstairs is where they all live, upstairs is a no-go for people like me.

Oh, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I work for the ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ themselves. Well, not for them specifically, but we are the in-house, on call 24/7 dental practice for them. Which is basically the same thing, right? I mean in makes total sense, with the amount of fighting they do, they’re gonna be losing some teeth, or chipping them at least. And they need someone here all the time, to fix them back up again, and that’s where we come in. And hey, at least it means I’ll always have a job. Unless I’m ever late again.

“I’m-um-my name-is-Y/N. Y/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N, sir. It’s an honour to be working for you.” There he goes again, bent over in the waiting room, cackling.

“I could get used to that treatment.” He manages to breathe out between laughs.

“Sir, Dr Green is waiting?” I stumble over my words, as bloody usual.

“Oh shit yeah, sorry.”

I walk into the dental theatre and take my chair next to Green.

“Ok, Falcon, what seems to be the problem here?” he starts, as if it wasn’t obvious. The guy is missing a front tooth. Even I can see that and I’m half blind!

“Erm, well. My tooth got knocked out during a mission again.” He lifted his top lip to show the gap where it had been taken. After a little examination, Green turned around to me.

“Prepare Mr. Wilson’s moulds. He needs this doing as soon as possible. If you can see the file.” He makes my skin crawl and my palms itch.

“Certainly Sir, right away.” I smiled sickly sweet at him. Kill ‘em with kindness, it’s the only way to stop myself from killing him for real.

I know my job inside and out, I could do it in my sleep. I just lack the social confidence to take it a step further, and with Green putting me down all the damn time, I second guess myself. Anyway, the procedure went without a hitch and I was soon escorting Sam back to the reception area. I fumble around the desk to finish some last bits of paperwork for Sam before he leaves.

“Hey, Y/N. When are you on your lunch break?” Huh? What? Why is he asking?

“Oh, um, it’s at 1.30, sir.” There I go again, tripping over my words. The feeling I get in my chest when speaking to someone is what I’d akin to being stabbed feels like.

“Ok, well, why don’t you come upstairs for your lunch? Floor 47. I want you to meet the team. Without them having weapons of torture hanging out of their mouths. Unless Barnes gets snappy, then you have my full permission to poke him with a pointy metal object.” He laughs once again, he was being really kind, but if I’m like this with just him, what will I be like with the whole team all at once. Nuh-huh, no way, no how, I’d rather die.

“Er, Mr Wilson, I don’t think that-”

“Sam. Please, call me Sam. Or Falcon. Or Hot Stuff. Whatever works.”

“Ok then, Sam, I’m not sure that this is appropriate.” But it sure would piss off ole’ Greeny.

“1) It’s your lunch, you can do whatever you damn well please. 2) You don’t like Dr Green, and I imagine some time away from his ‘ugly mug’ will do you some good, and 3) I’m asking you to. You’re funny. You don’t need to be nervous, they’ll love you. Trust me, please Y/N? What have you got to lose?” Upstairs. I’ve been officially invited UPSTAIRS to have lunch with THE AVENGERS, THE FUCKING AVENGERS! This stuff never happens, ever. It’s like Downton Abbey, you have the high class upstairs, and the scullery maids and servants downstairs. It’s not like I can really see them anyway because of my glasses, it’s not as if I’m going to become friends with them. They’ll not even remember me until they come in with a cavity, and probably not even then. Fuck it, you only live once right?

“Ok Sam. I’ll be there. Floor 47. 1.30” a burst of energy runs through me, giving me a little pep in my step.

“Really?! That’s great! They’re gonna fuckin’ love you, I swear” That’s it, nothing more said. He’s gone. And I’m having lunch with the avengers.

What the fuck have I got myself into?

TAGS: @cami23593 @alittlewerewolfgirl @electronicstrangerdaze @buenostardissherlock @blissful-fantasy @secretlittledelights @aelania @smilexcaptainx @maddierose0015 @barnes-toddpartnersinheartbreak @brokenanxiety (If any of ya’ll don’t want to be tagged in this or any future stories of mine. Please let me know. I thought I’d give you the option. –Rae xo)

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