New Girl [#00: Welcome Home]

New Girl [#00: Welcome Home]

Summary: Life threw you a curve ball when you walked in on your long term boyfriend making out with someone who definitely wasn't you. Since living with him was no longer an option, you've ventured out at the advice of a work friend and found the absolute perfect loft to reside in. The only issue?

You suddenly have four very odd roommates.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (slow burn, endgame, as in you'll be seeing some short term pairings here and then as well)

A/N: So i'm doing the soulmate drabbles, but i'm also starting a 'TV Show AU' series. Don't know how many parts this will have it'll probably just be a free for all of any episodes I wanna put the marvel crew in or any fun scenarios I think of.

[[Also weird side note that you may notice in the banner below I, uh, re-cast Clint Barton?? I always write the comic version over the mcu version anyways and Jensen Ackles is always who I picture when I write, but obvi you can straight ignore that if you want.]]

(word count: 1,564)

The loft was absolutely gorgeous. It had an industrial feel to it thanks to the brick walls and metal beams running across the ceiling. Despite that, the warm light streaming through the multitude of windows gave it a soft vibe. From where you sat on the recliner you could see a small, open kitchen that sat right across from a large dining area all of which was behind the large, ‘u-shaped’ couch. Honestly, the moment you stepped through the door your brain immediately decided that this is where you wanted to live.

However, there was one little flaw you didn’t foresee when you showed up for the interview/tour.

“So, you guys…are guys.” You said slowly. You laced your fingers together and rested them on your knee awkwardly. In front of you sat four men. Very manly men, actually. Enough so that you weren’t sure why your co-worker would think sending you here to live would be a good idea. Scott Lang had mentioned the open room and the great location, but he had left out this huge detail.

“Yes. Good eye for detail.” The man who introduced himself as Bucky Barnes said dryly. He sat at the far end of the couch in front of you on the left side. He had short, dark hair that kind of looked like he had just rolled out of bed. Sweatpants, a t-shirt, and scruff all along his defined jaw. His stormy eyes looked exhausted, his lips looked downturned into a perpetual frown, and it made you mildly curious since it was literally one in the afternoon and he was nearly dead on his feet.

“I know it’s hard for you to not be a dick, but maybe you can, I don’t know, try?” Sam Wilson, if you remembered his name correctly, replied to him from the entire other end of the couch. The black man had his arms crossed over his chest with a raised eyebrow, but there was nothing but amusement in his brown eyes. Unlike the first man that spoke, this one was dressed in much nicer clothes. A button up shirt and khakis.

You opened your mouth to cut in, but another one of them spoke up first. He sat next to the man who had just spoken, “Quick question, are you single?” You knew his name was Peter but you couldn’t remember what his last name was only that it started with a ‘Q’. He had an impish smirk with sandy blond hair that could only be described as purposely messy. He had a sort of goatee that was mostly just stubble. There was a leather jacket resting on the couch behind him that he had taken off when you first walked in to reveal the tight, gray shirt he wore. “I think it’s the question all of us want answered, right?”

All the men chorused solid disagreements, but it was the man beside him that spoke directly to you. This was the only one who hadn’t actually introduced himself to you. He had come in a couple minutes ago, dropped down on the couch, and then just joined in. You had mentally been referring to him as ‘hot mess’. He had like three bandages on his face, his lip was busted, and he had a fading black eye. His blond hair was also messy, but definitely not in a styled way. More like a ‘I haven’t touched a comb since I was 12’ kind of way. He motioned to you, “Ignore him, the real question we have for you is: Do you have any pets and when can you move in?”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “We vote before we ask someone to move in. Loft agreement.”

Hot mess spoke again, “Well then let’s—”

“Wait,” You held one hand out and eyes snapped back to you. “Scott told me this was a four-bedroom place, and that you guys were looking for someone to fill a room but…there are already four of you?”

Peter half-heartedly motioned to Bucky and Sam, “These two share a room.”

“Oh!” You bobbed your head with a smile as you motioned to them, “So you guys are a couple?”

“No!” Bucky and Sam both yelled loudly making you jump in shock. They immediately turned and began to bicker with one another.

“Why're you saying no so fast, man?? I’m a fucking catch.” Sam argued.

“You said no just as quick as I did!”

“Yeah, because I can do a hell of a lot better than a maybe alcoholic still mourning the loss of his psycho ex.”

Bucky sat forward to glare at him, “We are not having this argument again.”

As they continued to yell at one another, while you watched on awkwardly, Peter focused on you with a charming smirk, “They have bunk beds.”

“Bunk… beds?” You questioned skeptically.

“No, no, no.” Sam cut in quickly. He gave up on his argument with Bucky to clarify this. “It’s two very separate beds, on opposite sides of the room. See, I lost a bet so now I’m stuck with his ass—”

“You lost the bet? I lost the bet and now I’m stuck with you.” Bucky argued back.

Hot mess shook his head, “They both lost the bet and now they bunk together like camp buddies.” The two men in question grumbled unhappily. “Also, we’re all super broke so we need someone in the empty room who has a consistent paycheck.” As if to clarify further, he pointed down the couch starting with Bucky, “Bartender at a sketch ass place, in an unknown band, and therapist.”

Sam held one hand up, “I’m the only one with an actual paycheck.”

“I have a paycheck!” Bucky argued.

“And my band is not unknown.” Peter scoffed. “The Guardians have a gig this Thursday!”

Hot mess grinned, “And where are you playing?”

“A Korean restaurant where old men play card game and chain smoke.” Peter mumbled.

You cleared your throat and tried to get this conversation back on track, “You didn’t tell me what your job is. Or your name.”

“Oh, I’m Clint Barton!” He quickly stood up and offered his hand to you. You smiled and took his hand to shake it then he sat back down. “And my job changes depending on the week.”

You bobbed your head once with confused, narrowed eyes, “I, uh, I don’t know what that means.”

Bucky shook his own head, “Neither do we.”

“Well,” You took in a steadying breath, “Like I said before, my name is [Y/N]. And, I actually do have a steady paycheck.” You motioned to yourself. “I work for a modeling agency—”

“Whoa, whoa!” Peter threw his arms out to interrupt, “You’re a model??”

“Uh, no.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I’m more like a manager? Book gigs, manage contracts, help them on set…” There was a pause where they all just stared at you with blank looks. Peter was the only one actively gawking though. You filled the silence with the first thing your brain thought of, “It’s fun! My best friend from high school actually works there as a model so it’s a lot of us just…goofing off? Uh… I don’t have any pets—”

“Meeting!” Peter barked and stood up. He gave you a charismatic smile, “Just give us a couple minutes.” The others stood up with less enthusiasm and began to march out of the room, down the hall. Peter gave you a nod, briefly biting down on his lower lip, bounced his eyebrows up once, then winked at you, “Don’t miss me too much, alright baby?”

Bucky stopped at the mouth of the hall with a frown, and when Peter tried to walk into the hallway he threw his hand out to stop him. Peter complained as Bucky shoved him back then pointed to the short shelf sitting behind the couch. There was a glass jar sitting on it with a pink sticky note taped to the outside that read, ‘Douchebag Jar’ in messy handwriting.

“Jar. Now.”

“That wasn’t even so bad!” Peter argued before pulling a dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it into the jar. The two of them left to wherever the other two had and suddenly you were left alone in the pretty apartment. Without the yelling boys, the loft became more and more tempting.

You drummed your fingers against your thighs nervously. This was a weird situation and at your age you weren’t really looking to live in a loft downtown with four strange men, emphasis on strange, but you didn’t really have another choice. Your job paid well, but you had lost a lot of money after buying a house with your long-term boyfriend. It seemed like a great idea at the time considering the two of you were coming up on three years together, but when you walked in on him making out with a girl sitting in his lap the great idea died really fast. You didn’t get that money back and honestly you didn’t even try to get possession of the house. You just wanted to be out of his life. Regardless of the cost.

Clint ‘hot mess’ Barton suddenly slid back into the room on his socks making you jump in surprise. He threw his hand out broadly as the others came in as well, “Welcome home, roomie!”

You jumped up in excitement, “Really? You guys aren’t going to regret this!”