Bucky Barnes Imagines

I Wait For You [Male Reader]

October marked a shift for the East Coast — the beginning of the death cycle of nature's constant rebirth. For many, it was a reminder of triumph in the face of impossible odds, a time of year when the defeat of Thanos and the preservation of global society was to be celebrated for the first time. Everything was supposed to be perfect. Humanity had won. Families were reunited.

Bucky sighed as he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, desperate for any relief from both the physical and mental torment he was trapped in. To him, the season was a reminder of loss and of pain. Sacrifice. After decades without his best friend, he was destined to lose Steve yet again, struggling to face him now as an old man. Bucky couldn't blame him for going back to live out his life with Peggy, as it was intended and as he deserved; however, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was selfish. Soon, he would be alone again, all ties to his distant past lost to time, leaving him in a modern world he was still uncomfortable traversing alone.

A connection had been formed between Y/n and Bucky in Wakanda that was undeniable. At first, the engineer afforded him kindness that he had only experienced with Steve since his return to society. And then it became more. Something deeper. He tried to ease his rising heartbeat as he rode the elevator up to the tower's topmost floor.

A single infirmary kiss was all it had taken to solidify the unspoken truth he held deep within his chest. There was no denying it. Bucky remembered the way it felt as another stubbled face hit his own, the heat and intensity of another man's body up in such proximity. He had lain with plenty of women in his earlier days, but not a single time had he ever felt such a deep passion welling in his gut.

The horrors of war had put a quick stop to their brief respite in the way of such madness. The solace they found in each other in Wakanda had found its abrupt end once they returned to U.S. soil after the dust had settled, only for Bucky to hole up in his apartment for months. The only correspondence they had shared since was the invitation shared over text, neither man daring to address the elephant in the room.

He pulled himself from the bed and inhaled slowly, trying his best to practice the skills taught to him in his mandated therapy. Gradually, he centered himself and stretched, trying his best to ignore the clock on his bedside indicating he had yet again slept through almost an entire day. For the life of him, the Winter Soldier could not recall what time he had fallen asleep. All he knew was that he heard the morning birds begin their wake-up call.

The calendar on his wall mocked him silently. Y/n was hosting a gathering to commemorate the lives lost defeating Thanos that night. It had been written on his calendar for weeks. Tony's sacrifice, wielding the Nano Gauntlet, warranted recognition. He knew that. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to face everyone, but he would be there. There was no way around it, only through.

He felt strongly that he owed it to the remaining Avengers to at least make an appearance, and his therapist had encouraged it as a part of helping him build community for himself. The team of heroes had lost a friend, a mentor, when Tony passed. Bucky killed his parents and then still got to benefit from his final sacrifice. That guilt would haunt him forever.

Dark clothes felt appropriate. That night wasn't a funeral, but it was a somber night nonetheless. The dinner would mark his first time seeing Ironman's successor since October 17th, 2023. Tony's death. Y/n was the closest thing the wealthy hero had ever had to a son, and Bucky could only imagine both the extent of his grief coupled with the pressure he was under to perform.

Iron Man was gone, Black Widow was gone, Thor had left Earth, and Captain America had retired. With so many founding members lost to time, he had taken up the mantle and now resided in Stark Tower. Keeping a legacy alive was tough work, but he had assumed the role immediately and with grace. Bucky found it almost shameful how a man experiencing more active grief was struggling less to hold it together than himself.