Sebastian Stan Imagines

Passing It On | B. Barnes [sick day imagine]

Passing It On | B. Barnes

A low growl was emitted from Bucky's lips as his head pounded, the headache he had acquired spreading from his temples to the back of his head. Chills exploded about his body while he clutched onto his pillow, seat soaked forehead burrowing into the plush and wetting the case after throwing his head back and groaning deeply. Sniffles escaped from his nostrils from time to time throughout the course of his suffering. 

Pressing your lips together and eyebrows furrowing in concern, you couldn't help but to feel bad about his zombie-like state. Days after the lip lock you both shared, the statement you had warned him about came true. Much to the super soldier's dismay, he was enduring one of the worse colds of his life - no thanks to you. Heart wrenching at the sight of Bucky having to go through the same torture you had been through merely days ago. Though, you were still nursing the end of your flu but on the other hand, you had guilt racking within your brain due to the fact Bucky had portrayed his true feelings for you and risk getting sick just to kiss you. 

Another guttural moan echoing throughout Bucky's room, you noticed as the long haired soldier ripped his blanket off of him, curling the pillow beneath his flesh and metal forearm and curling into a fetal position on his king sized mattress. He had little to no care that his long locks were sticking along his jaw and neck while he laid on his side, teeth then chattering as a wave of cold air ghosted over his previously scorching body. 

Instead of standing at his door frame and watching him undergo his horrendous sickness, a sneaky idea slipped into your brain - why not help and comfort him? It was the least you could do since he tried to make you feel better when you were sick. Tip toeing away from his room, you raided the commons room kitchen for some hot tea and honey, all the while heating up a washcloth and crafting chicken soup. 

As the remedies towards Bucky's sickness were at play, you were buried deep within the linen closet, hands scouring around for a quilt within the dark closet. A feeling of satisfaction overcame your body upon grasping a Iron Man quilt that Tony had managed to sneak within the pile of blankets and sheets. Not another second was wasted as you fled back to the kitchen, gathering all of the materials to soothe Bucky's symptoms. 

Balancing the tray on your knee, you softly knocked on the super soldier's door and waited patiently until Bucky croaked a 'come in' in response to an unexpected visitor. Your bottom lip couldn't help but to jut out softly, a pout forming on your face upon the sight of Bucky's sweaty face emerged on his pillow, moans and groans flooding his room. 

"Buck?" you found yourself placing the tray full of items on his nightstand, ignoring the slight change in your voice, your flu still present within your system. Slowly yet carefully reaching out towards his flesh shoulder, you took your hand back just as fast as it made contact with his sweaty arm. "Bucky, let me feel your forehead."

A small gasp fled your lips when Bucky lifted his head up, wincing as the pain in his head doubled due to his equilibrium losing its balance. All of the color was drained from his face, purple circles under his light blue eyes, lips chapped and lacking their normal pinkish color. Your manicured hand then pushed his wet locks away from his face, cupping your tiny hands around his pale face while examining his features meticulously. As one hand still cupped his head, the other flew to feel his forehead, sucking a deep breath in at the temperature of his head.

"Jesus, Sarge," you began, guiding his body to lay back against his head board, propping as many pillows as possible to support his head. His eyes lazily followed your every movement while you busied yourself towards the tray, bringing it towards the edge of his bed and grabbing the warm towel, draping it against his forehead. Eyebrows knitted with worry, you allowed yourself to place the back of your hand against his neck, hissing again. "You're burning up."

A metal arm then wrapping around your wrist, Bucky took his time when he craned his head, tired blues gazing into your concerned [e/c]s. A string of coughs trailed as he attempted to speak up, causing your other hand to rest against his lips, nodding your head softly to signify he wasn't able to form a sentence without hacking his lungs out. His metal hand lost its grip on your wrist, allowing you to break away from him momentarily in order to grab the Iron Man quilt, draping it over his shivering body. 

Sniffling, Bucky tugged on your arm lightly before you could make your way towards the tray again and soothe his scratchy throat with the tea you had made for him. "Buck, let me get your tea." you protested his grip on you, head gesturing to the tray at the edge of his bed. 

His hand dismissed the tray, waving lightly while his other pulled you again, this time much more urgent and dire than the previous time. Clearing his aching throat and throwing a puppy dog look your way, the unwell soldier manage to mutter a, "Lay with me."

Eyes flickering back to the tray, your thoughts were interrupted when Bucky whined softly, as if he was a little child imploring to be held. Head turning, a defeated sigh was heaved when you climbed your way onto the bed, getting under the quilt as Bucky held it up for you to snuggle in. 

Upon the kiss, the two of you hadn't admitted your feelings for each other, both having been too sick to acknowledge them. Though, to you, the kiss was more than enough for you to realize that Bucky had developed a liking to you. Likewise, Bucky finally noticed that his feelings weren't one sided, being that you were willing to spend your whole afternoon nursing him while still being sick.

Facing the tired and unwell soldier, you glanced up at him with a remorse look plaguing your face. Bucky reciprocated his sight on you, the corners of his lips tugging every so slightly to send a smirk your way. Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around your waist upon your head laying gently against his chest, disregarding the fact that it was sweaty, only living within the moment as you listened to his heart beat. 

"Was this really worth a kiss?" you inquired to Bucky, who perched an eyebrow up and shook his head, then humming in response.

"If it means we could be like this more often," he croaked out through a couple lingering coughs, turning his head away from you to ensure he wasn't going to spread his sickness your way. Patting his chest, you shushed Bucky from trying to speak again, seeing as it worsens his already terrible state. 

Ignoring your hushing, he spoke up again while a grin  marked his chapped and colorless lips, "It's definitely worth it."

~

this is a continuation to rainy day.

 i went to my home state for a week and had a grand ole time! in fact, i started on like two more loooong imagines that are still sitting in my drafts. anyways, when i got back from the state i reside in now, i got sick! still currently recovering the sickness :( but anyways this imagine came up in my mind because why not? plus this should subside from the fact that i'm still working on the other imagines. again, thanks for the reads and votes!

sorry if this is short and sucky :/

thank you. gracias. merci. domo arigato. grazie. danke sehr. mahalo. multumesc.

-a