Marvel Imagines

Exhausted (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

A/N: This is part 80 of this ridiculous book! That's sorta crazy. Lol.

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A stiff wind sweeps over your bare arms and seeps into your bones.

It whistles by your ears, causing you to blink and shiver slightly, breaking away from your train of thought.

Though your steady gaze doesn't leave the grey misty horizon, rolling waves, with their whitecaps, crashing against the shore below where you sit, legs dangling over the edge.

The skies threaten rain - and quite a bit of it by the looks of it, a much darker shade of the dull tone appearing almost black against what was once much lighter.

The sight draws a weary sigh from your lips as you shiver once more, much more fiercely this time, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging yourself in a vain attempt to stay warm.

You're exhausted.

Every bone, every muscle, every part of you - is crying out at you to simply return to the welcoming warmth you know for certain awaits you from where you had previously come from, hours earlier.

But, you had left it behind, too annoyed with yourself and your Partner to handle much else.

And now, as your heavy gaze wanders the horizon once more, you grumble something incomprehensible beneath your breath, practically snarling.

"Of course it has to rain. Why wouldn't it?"

Brooding once again, a sudden clap of thunder jolts you from your thoughts, your hasty surprised eyes darting towards the heavens.

And as you do so, the rain begins to pour.

Instantly soaking your already miserable form to the bone.

Just go back to the safehouse.

It's warm and dry there.

Plus, he's there - no likely wondering where the hell you wandered off to.

Almost as if your thoughts had summoned your Partner, a familiar voice calls out over the now much noisier nature.

"You plannin' on just sitting out there all night?" Bucky Barnes hollers, a evidential teasing tone to his voice.

You make no move to turn and face him, nor do you make any reply.

Instead, you curl deeper into yourself, pulling the drenched hood up and over your head.

You could swear you hear him laugh at your pointless actions, and in a matter of minutes, someone is approaching you from behind - the long damp grass crunching beneath a set of combat boots a telltale sign of that fact.

"C'mon."

It's Bucky again.

Though this time, you slowly raise your head to meet his gaze, your body twisting towards where he stands behind you.

"You're gonna catch a cold," He urges once again, blue eyes sparkling with genuine concern as well as a playfulness. "Now, c'mon."

You just stare back at him, unable to find any sort of words to say.

So, instead, Bucky nears your now shivering and soaking wet form huddled in the grass, extending a warm hand down towards you, the other, holding an umbrella over the pair of you.

The walk back towards the small log cabin acting as a safehouse is silent, other than the sounds of the storm surrounding you as well as your mingled breathing.