Just the Way You Are - Dad's Best Friend Bucky x Reader

Nine

Y/N

You couldn't pull yourself out of bed that day. It was a Sunday, the day that had once been your favourite, yet that day felt empty, cold. It was sunny outside, but the warmth of the sun didn't seem to infiltrate the thin curtains that hung from the window. You weren't sure what time it was when you woke up, and if you were being honest you didn't really care. The bed beside you where he usually lay, cracking jokes and wrapping his arms tightly around you, protecting you and comforting you, was empty. It felt wrong, as if everything in the world had shifted slightly. You just wanted everything to go back to the way that it was.

You stayed there for hours curled up under the blanket, pretending that your duvet was Bucky's body, that your oversized sweater was his arms. Buck the moose and Jamie the duck were tucked under your chin, and you simply stared at the wall, at the empty space beside you where he was meant to be, wiping your tears on your pillow, replaying each moment of your relationship with Bucky over and over in your head, as if it were a supercut of everything that had made the two of you together so magical.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

His gentle tone eased itself into your subconscious, pulling you from your dream and back to reality. You groaned, rolling over onto your back, stretching your arms above your head as you yawned, and blinking your eyes open as you gave them a minute to adjust to the morning light. It was a Sunday morning, and you knew that you had heard Bucky's voice, but as you reached out for him you found the bed beside you empty, yet still warm. Slowly rubbing your eyes, you sat up against the headboard, coming face-to-face with a smiling Bucky Barnes, cross-legged in the middle of your bed, beaming down at you contently. On the blanket in front of him was a tray holding two plates of breakfast, omelettes and toast with bacon, and two little bowls of yoghurt. Next to the plates was a cup of hot, black coffee in your favourite mug, and one that had the little panda on the front. Bucky's own coffee was nestled comfortably in his palm.

"You made me breakfast?" You grinned as you sat up straight, reaching for the coffee and taking a sip, allowing the bitter heat to float over your tongue. "Thank you baby. You really didn't have to."

"It's really nothing," he shrugged, grabbing a bite of toast. "Besides, you deserve it."

You snorted, raising your eyebrows at him and shaking your head. "Deserve it for what? Being unemployed? Living with my dad? I don't think I've done anything to deserve it."

Bucky shuffled forward on the mattress, closer to you, linking his fingers with your own.

"You know I don't care about those things. There's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. You're perfect, just the way you are." Bucky shuffled forward on the mattress, closer to you, linking his fingers with your own. "Besides, after what you did in bed last night, I'd say you more than deserve breakfast at least."

Without thinking, you stuck your finger in the yoghurt and flung it forwards, swiping it down the side of his face with an evil chuckle. Bucky's jaw dropped open in shock, but a moment later a cough of laughter erupted, and he followed suit, yoghurt being wiped across your cheek.

After only a moment, the pair of you fell into a fit of giggles, Bucky's body enveloping your own, a perfect little bubble of happiness contained inside that bedroom.

You choked down a sob at the memory, muffling a frustrated cry into your pillow as you tried to push away the thought, your own mind betraying you.

Your dad popped his head around your bedroom door a little while later, awkwardly hovering at your doorway as if he were unsure whether or not to interfere. However, eventually he made the decision to wander inside, perching on the edge of your mattress.