pov- imagines

HOME IN MY HOUSE- B. BARNES

pairings: bucharest!bucky barnes x reader
warnings: so fluffy
about: : PF17 + DF9 with Bucky's red henley and Bucky in Romania
a/n: don't stress too much about the timeline, it's like a moment of peace during when bucky was in bucharest, before he was found and the bombing, etc. etc.

it's nearing the first year of your relationship with bucky, most of which you had spent attached at the hip, holed up inside either his or your own tiny apartment in bucharest. you had all but moved in, toothbrush right next to his and half of your closet in his.

you rarely went out, something that was mainly due to bucky not wanting to, but you never minded, not necessarily wanting to leave the comfort of bucky and your home yourself.

however, as uncommon as it was for you both to leave the apartment, you (and eventually bucky) had insisted it was important to support the vendors at the farmer's market where you had met your boyfriend, so at least once every month, one or both of you would get up early with a reusable tote bag to buy groceries and say hello to the little old man selling plums–the owner of the booth where you had met bucky.

this time it was bucky's turn, something you had weakly protested against in the haze of your sleep, too warm and comfortable in bucky's arms to let him leave. he had chuckled and complied for a few minutes, hugging you closer and letting you nuzzle your nose against his chest while he remembered how empty his fridge was.

he kissed the crown of your head before gently leaving you in the bed alone, promising to return soon before he left the apartment. you only really realized he had left when you woke up a few minutes later, a hand searching on bucky's side of the bed when you shivered at the lack of his warmth. you groggily forced your eyes open, pouting at no one when you saw his side empty, remembering that he had left to go to the market.

pitifully wrapping your arms around yourself, you dramatically sniffle, grabbing the pillow bucky usually used and hugging it close to your chest in order to pretend he was still in your arms. opening a single eye, you notice the worn red of bucky's henley lying on the ground next to you, sweeping it up with one hand to hug it to your chest.

a stroke of genius makes you pull it over your head and over your light clothing, and you tug the neckline up to your nose, humming appreciatively at the smell of your boyfriend underneath your cheek when you lay down on it. it's enough to draw you to sleep, only waking up when the real thing walks inside the apartment, spotting you once he has put away all the groceries.

bucky pauses midway through the doorway, cocking his head slightly to examine the situation. the first thing he notices is how peaceful you look, draped on his bed with his clothes on and looking so perfectly at home, bucky can nearly forget why he's in that dingy apartment with you, and even the demons that haunt his mind, leaving him unable to run away like he's doing now. the second thing he notices is the red underneath your cheek, which makes a dangerous flash of fear crawl up his spine, going away just as soon as it came when he remembers exactly who you are–someone who would never do anything like the dames back in the day.

the third thing is the absence of his pillow, and the fourth is the fact that the red thing is the shirt he'd left lying on the floor that is now covering you, a small piece of scrunched red in your hands pressed to your face.

he can't help the smile that comes to his face, walking closer to you and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, biting his lip when he realizes he's right.

"bucky?" you mumble sleepily, barely making an effort to turn your head towards him.

"'s me doll, i'm back."

you smile sleepily, throwing an arm towards him that hooks on his wrist, pulling him closer to you, " yay," you mumble sincerely, tugging on him to tell him to get in with you.

the motion allows him to see the sleeve of his shirt over your arm, wrinkled and haphazardly shrugged on.

"s'that my shirt?" bucky teases, fingers tugging at the edges of his henley.

you mumble something incoherent, lazily tangling your fingers with his own metal ones.

"couldn't catch that sweetheart," bucky urges, leaning closer to catch what you were saying.

"this," you begin, patting his hand, "is mine," you say again, a little clearer as you reach a hand that cups around his cheek and taps again, pressing a sloppy kiss against his nose before letting your head flop back on the pillow, holding the fabric of the shirt you're wearing protectively. "so it's fair."

bucky chuckles, but because you're right, he obliges and gets back into bed with you.