Bucky Barnes imagines

Comforting Kisses ("Affection" Series)

A/N: Oof! My second update in one day! I hope you like it!

WARNINGS: Sad themes

Word Count: 740

I stood out on the balcony of my apartment over looking the city, a glass of wine in my hand. My heart was heavy, and a knot was growing in my throat as I stared out into the city lights surrounding me.

Tears were beginning to pool in my eyes, and I quickly took a sip of my drink, hoping the alcohol would sooth me to some degree. But this had been my third glass of wine. My emotions weren't going anywhere.

I heard the door to my apartment open and shut, but I didn't turn around to see who entered. I knew who it was.

I grabbed the bottle of wine and poured another glass of wine.

"Doll?" Bucky walked out onto the balcony, and see's the now empty bottle of wine on the small table next to an unopened one that I would surely drink after this glass. "Y/N?"

"What is it Bucky?" I asked quietly, not turning to look at him.

"Can you look at me? Please?"

Reluctantly, I turned to face him. His blue eyes were reflecting both confusion and concern as he took in my state: tear stained cheeks, puffy eyes, and messy hair.

"What do you need, Barnes?" I asked, my voice a little harder then before, and his eyes widened a little bit.

"What is going on, Y/N?" His voice was soft and I winced slightly at his gentleness. I did not feel that I deserved his kindness.

"Nothing."

"Then why are you drinking so much?" Bucky gestures towards the bottles of wine on the tables. "What are you trying to hide away? You can tell me."

I felt my walls begin to break away, and my eyes pool with tears. My eyes looked back out into the city as I ran a hand through my hair.

"My dad died today."I whispered brokenly as I stared into the business of the nighttime traffic, but seeing nothing. "I was talking to him on the phone while he was walking to work, and a man hit him while he was crossing the street. He died before the ambulance arrived."

"Oh, doll." Bucky's voice was filled with sadness and sympathy, as he reached forward to touch my free hand. "I'm so sorry."

"It's my fault." I shake my head as I look at him, my tears running freely down my face as I look at my boyfriend. "If I had never called him, he would've been paying more attention and the driver never would have hit him. I... I..."

My face crumbles as my composure broke completely and my glass slipped from my other hand. There was no shatter. I watched as Bucky placed it gently on the table, before pulling me into his arms.

I sobbed softly into his shoulder as his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips pressed gently against my head.

"Come on... let's go inside."

I let him lead me in, and sat me down on the couch in my living room. Bucky kneeled in front of me, his blue eyes never leaving mine even as the tears continued to fall down my face. "This was not your fault."

"But-"

"It was absolutely not your fault." Bucky grabbed my hands and pressed his lips against my knuckles softly before looking up. "The driver wasn't being careful. None of this was because of you, Y/N. You understand me?"

I reached up a hand to wipe away my tears. "I do."

Bucky stood up, and sat down next to me on the couch. "You have me. I know I'm not your dad, but I am your boyfriend. I will be here as long as you need me, or want me in your life. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you, Bucky." I sniffled.

"Anything for you." He smiled gently, before cupping my face in his hands and leaning in to kiss me tenderly. They lingered for a few moments over my lips before pulling back to press against my forehead. "Let's go to bed."

"Okay."

After climbing into bed, Bucky held me close. He held me close to him, kissed me gently and comforted me when I woke up from a nightmare about my dad. Although Bucky was right about not being my father, I was thankful to have him. And I would still be, four years later when we married each other and another two years after, when we had our first son who we named after my father. Even though my father was gone... we had some part of him with us. Always.