pov- imagines

SMORES- B. BARNES

pairings: bucky barnes x reader
warnings: mentions of nightmares and fire
about: requested! (@cherry-season) Bucky and reader are night owls, the first has nightmares, second has insomnia. Reader suggests that Bucky pass the time over a fire and fried marshmallows, but they are in Stark's Tower and they are frying marshmallows on the burner, sitting at the stove
a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoyed this!!

the covers feel too sticky on your body, overheating your already too-warm skin and making you crave for the coolness of bucky's vibranium arm. as much as you want to, you stop yourself from reaching your hand out to the other side of the bed to look for your boyfriend, considering the rare silence from his side that implies his nightmares have let him rest for a night.

your top teeth tug at your lip as you close your eyes, trying to go to sleep yourself. the sheep you had been counting lay still in your head, offering no relief from the loud silence of your mind. groaning, you push the covers off of you, wincing when you realize you probably shoved them off bucky, too. you turn to look at him, startled to find his side empty; crisp, cool sheets in the place of your super-soldier.

"bucky?" you whisper to the darkness, not expecting to find him inside but willing to give it a try anyways. at the lack of reply, you stand from the bed, your eyes not taking long to get used to the darkness of your room. you step into slippers tony got you for christmas, bucky's identical pair sitting in your closet– probably like all the other matching ones the rest of the avengers got.

you pad into the hallway, eyebrows furrowing when you see low light emitting from the main room. "bucky?" you ask again, your soft voice breaking the cold silence of the muted television. your ears catch a sharp intake of breath and the familiar whirring of bucky's arm whenever he's not at ease. "are you okay?" you query gently, slowly walking over to stand in front of him.

you see his glossy eyes first, glowing in the light of the tv, and the tears that streak down his cheeks second, right before a hand comes to wipe them away roughly. you crouch down in front of him, his eyes follwoing you as you settle in front of him, your eyes scanning him, "another one?"

he nods stiffly, sniffling as his hand reaches out for you. you offer him your hand, and his warm fingers circle around your wrist, guiding you closer to him, "do you want to talk about it?"

he shakes his head, allowing himself your comfort and your fingers as they thread through the mussed-up bun he made before going to bed. you tuck stray strands of hair that fall on his face behind his ear, smiling gently at him and letting him lean his forehead against your chest. "okay," you respond, noticing the way he refuses to use his vibranium arm when touching you, keeping it at his side.

silence that he can't stand passes between you for a moment, and you press your lips to the top of his head, staying there for a few seconds while you think of something to help him feel better. the idea you've thought of repeatedly pops into your mind, and you blurt it out before you can stop yourself, "do you want to make smores?" you offer quietly, "warm and sweet always makes me feel better."

bucky looks up at you, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, "how?"

it's a good question; tony recently removed most of the patio furniture that had anything to do with fire thanks to an... incident that occurred a couple of months ago, which left your marshmallow burning options slim. "we have a stove," you point out, turning to look at it. you and bucky share a look.

-

nearly ten minutes later, your head is leant against bucky's arm, hands busy with the long stick with marshmallows attached and leaning into the fire of the stove, trying your best not to let it move too much and smear the stovetops. bucky is doing the same, although using considerably less effort than you are.

the orange fire from the stove is the only source of light in the room, the television turned off. the kitchen is completely silent save for the soft crackling of the flickering flames, enveloping one end of your marshmallow in orange flames, forcing you to remove your head from bucky's shoulder and desperately blow at the marshmallow. you don't wait to bite into it when the fire is out, moaning at the delicious taste as it melts in your mouth and simultaneously fanning air into your burnt mouth. "doll, you need to wait for it to cool a little," bucky offers, his patience perfect while he waits for his own smore to be done. you furrow your eyebrows, lips sticky with sugar, "no, 'cuz then all the good stuff stops being warm."

bucky chuckles at you, twirling the marshmallow to let it cool off for a second before offering it to you. you take a bite, groaning a little, "why is yours so much better?" you ask with a laugh, watching with twinkling eyes as bucky finishes the marshmallow and shrugs.

"mine doesn't burn tongues," he replies simply, winking at you. you laugh, leaning back into him. you offer him your new marshmallow on a stick, kissing his shoulder when he chuckles, putting it in the path of the flame next to his.

you spend the rest of the night eating too many stove-roasted marshmallows, waking up next to each other slightly uncomfortable from the strange position, relieved to realize friday turned off the stove when you both fell asleep.

you never forget to include marshmallows in your grocery lists from then on, never bothering to explain where the sticky smears on the burners came from or why a new bag of marshmallows is needed every few weeks.