[𝟭.𝟭] 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ➣ {𝕛•𝕓•𝕓} ❘ [𝖙𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖜𝖘 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 ]

↳ 𝟬𝟰 : ❝ [𝗕𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀] ¡! ❞

📍MUNICH, GERMANY

◌୭˚➶. ˚✧˖°

Bucky did end up getting on board the jet, much to Y/N's exasperation. Sam didn't look like he minded, but in fact enjoyed the tension between the two as Y/N somehow managed to come up with new nicknames for the super soldier every time.

This might have been the third or fourth time she looked up and found Sam and Bucky engaged in their own intense staring contest, "Oh God," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"One minute to drop off, Sam," Torres announced as he walked past them towards the door of the jet.

But neither Sam or Bucky acknowledged him, not daring to step down and be the first one to give up.

"Literal children," Y/N muttered, getting up from her seat. She grabbed her earpiece from the podium in the middle of the jet and walked over to Torres' side by the door, which was now open.

Sam and Bucky followed shortly and grabbed their own earpieces. 

"So, what's our plan?" Bucky returned to his seat. Sam didn't reply and stared at him, fitting the device in his ear. "Great. so plan," he completed.

"Thirty seconds!" Torres informed the trio, peeking out of the door.

"Enjoy your ride, Buck," Sam glanced at him.

"No, you can't call me that," Bucky retorted.

"Why not? That's what Steve called you. Even Y/N does."

"Steve knew me longer and Steve had a plan. Besides, Y/N's more tolerable than you."

"Gee, thanks," the mentioned woman deadpanned.

"Fifteen seconds to drop," Torres spoke up and Sam walked over to him and Y/N next to the door.

"I have a plan," Sam defended and slipped on his goggles.

"Really?" Bucky shot up from his seat, "What is it?" he stretched his arms out at his sides in question.

Exchanging a meaningful nod with Y/N, Sam jumped off the jet.

"Y/N, what's the plan?" his frustration started to grow.

"I'll see you, Bucky," Y/N turned to glance at him with her hands at her sides, each holding a ball of green mist, "Or not."

With that, she thrust her hands at her sides and levitated herself, leaping off the edge of the plane.

"Great," he grumbled under his breath and turned to Torres, "Where's the chute?"

"We're two hundred feet," he replied, "It's too low for a chute."

"I don't need it anyway," Bucky strode over to him and looked out of the door.