Marvel Imagines

Here With You (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Note:
Bucky joins the Avengers after the events of Civil War, though the divide of the Avengers never occurred.

****

You had never planned on getting sick.

In fact, you thought you'd avoided what Tony had dubbed 'the plague' that had spread through the team like wildfire.

But no, as your feet hit the cold floor of your bedroom and you begin to come to, you can't help but groan in annoyance.

Your head is pounding, sinuses blocked, and, by your cold, sweaty shivering, you likely have a fever to top it all off, too.

"Well," You mutter aloud, glaring at your surroundings as if they were the ones who caused your current state. "This is just peachy."

Stumbling to your feet, you haphazardly begin to throw on various pieces of clothing, not bothering if anything even matched.

A pair of sweatpants, a plain t-shirt...

You pause momentarily, your gaze halting on the black hoodie you'd stolen from your boyfriend before he and Sam had left for their most recent mission.

They were the only two who had already got the 'plague' and recovered, so as much as they may not get along, they each had to suck it up and work together.

You had been the one to nurse both men back to health, which is likely where you picked this miserable thing up from in the first place.

But I was careful! How the heck did it still manage to reach me?

Coming to a decision of wether or not you want to add another layer to your shivering form, you decide to slide the soft material over your head and around your torso, the article of clothing evidently far too large on you.

But, you like this hoodie.

It's the closest thing you've got to Bucky right now anyways.

Sighing, you lazily fumble into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind you with a sudden force you didn't even know you had as you head down the hallway.

"Hey, Y/N! Oh..." The enthusiastic tone of Scott Lang sounds from the breakfast bar as you stumble into the kitchen, likely looking bleary eyed and utterly exhausted.

"I'd suggest you steer clear, Scotty," You mumble, dishing yourself a small bowl of cereal and less than half a glass of orange juice, not feeling hungry at all. "It seems it's my turn for the 'plague.'"

The man across from you frowns, gesturing to the overly large hoodie you're currently wrapped up in.

"You missing him?" He hums softly, a compassionate expression replacing his previous frown.

All you can really do is nod, your mouth full of cereal you're desperately trying to swallow.

"He'll be back soon enough," The man assures, the sound of a new set of footsteps nearing you both interrupting your conversation.

"Mornin' Scott, Y/N..." Rhodey pauses, seeming to do a double take at your likely sickly looking figure standing in the middle of the kitchen, his expression softening. "It finally got to you too, huh?"

"It would seem that way," You groan, placing your now empty bowl and cup into the dishwasher, turning back around to face the Air Force Colonel. "Any word from Sam and Bucky?"

Rhodey nods, earning what sounds like a strangled cry of happiness from you as he continues.

"They completed the objective, but are standing by on site to ensure the locals don't get caught in any crossfire from the disbanding criminal ring," He explains, taking a seat at the breakfast bar beside Lang. "They should be back here in a day or two."