bucky barnes imagines

lii. COMFORT

You were walking through the corridor towards your room when a sound caught your attention. You paused for a second, listening intently, before shrugging and continuing. You must've imagined it.

But then, there it was again. Sobbing. Quiet whimpers, broken, filled with pain. You already knew which room it was coming from. You didn't need to check.

Your heart ached as you lingered outside Bucky's room. You desperately wanted to enter and comfort him, tell him that things would get better, that he meant the world to you and you would happily stay by his side for as long as he lived.

You would, if you thought that was what he wanted to hear. But it wasn't. He could never like you like that.

You sighed and turned around, heading back to the living room to find Steve so that he could help his best friend. However, you were surprised to find the super soldier standing right behind you, Nat by his side, both of them raising their eyebrows slightly.

"Is he okay?" Steve asked. A stupid question, really, but you were glad that he didn't ask why you were awkwardly lurking outside Bucky's room.

Before you had a chance to answer, Nat interjected. "I think you should go in and help him, Y/N."

"Me?" You tried to think of a valid excuse. "No, I don't think so. He'd rather see somebody else."

You scowled as Steve, clearly in an irritable mood, rolled his eyes at your response. "Y/N, I'm fed up of telling you..."

You zoned out as he began to lecture you; you already knew what he was going to say, anyway. Yes, he'd told you many times that you were Bucky's favourite person, that he had a crush on you, that he was probably in love with you, blah blah blah. You found that hard to believe. Why would he like you when he could get some other girl ten times prettier and a lot less socially inept?

Suddenly lost in your own thoughts, you barely registered what was happening when Nat, smirking mischievously, grabbed your arm. Steve opened the door in front of you and, before you knew what was happening, they pushed you into Bucky's room and told F.R.I.D.A.Y to lock the door.

You clenched your jaw before letting out a long, frustrated sigh. Now that you were stuck, you figured you might as well try to comfort Bucky.

It took you a while to actually find him; he was on the floor in the corner, huddled underneath a pile of blankets and pillows. Evidently, he'd heard you enter the room and was trying to quiet his sobs, but you could still see his shoulders shaking. Hesitantly, you approached him, trying your best not to startle him in any way.

You slowly kneeled down next to him and parted the blankets a little, just until you could see his face. His hair was tangled and messy, and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days – which, given the horrible nightmares that plagued him, was probably true.

"Oh, Bucky..." you whispered, almost pityingly. He gazed back at you with the innocent expression of a lost puppy, which was enough to bring useless tears to your own eyes.

He didn't deserve to feel this way.

You already knew why he was upset; his past haunted him and, to some extent, it probably always would. He never wanted to talk about it – that only made things worse. So you remained quiet, opting to simply keep him company.

After a while, Bucky shuffled around and reached for your hand. He gripped it tightly, as if he thought you might slip away if he let go. As you squeezed his hand, he lightly tugged you towards him.

"Can we– can I..." he stuttered, clearly still anxious. He gave up on speaking and instead, he shifted the multiple blankets and pillows again, apparently making room for you inside his little fort. He sniffled quietly as you crawled inside, pulling the covers around you.

After a couple of seconds, Bucky took a deep breath and tried again. "Can we... cuddle?"

You didn't reply immediately – you were taken aback by his words. He took your hesitance as refusal, and attempted to backtrack.

"You don't have to, I-I just, it would—"

"Hey, hey," you interrupted firmly, "it's okay. I was just surprised."

Nodding, Bucky wrapped his right arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He seemed reluctant to touch you with his metal arm, so you reached across and laced your fingers with his. At first, his whole body tensed up, but he gradually relaxed.

You rested your head in the crook of Bucky's neck, sighing happily. As he held you, his tears began to dry; he felt calmer than he had in a long time.

You didn't want to move – you wished you could cuddle with Bucky for eternity. But your neck was beginning to ache. In a moment of sheer confidence, you sat upright and moved across until you were fully sitting in his lap, facing him, your legs either side of his.

Bucky seemed more sure of himself; he wrapped both arms around you and pulled you flush against his chest, allowing you to rest your hands on his shoulders for support. Absentmindedly, you toyed with his hair, pushing loose strands away from his face. He was mesmerised by you, his eyes following your movements, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

"Babydoll," he mumbled, before he could stop himself. Your heart raced at the old fashioned, affectionate nickname and you giggled shyly before tipping your head upwards to look him in the eye.

Your face was barely an inch away from his – close enough for you to admire all the littlest details that made him so adorable. The long eyelashes, the button nose, the light blush that dusted his cheeks, the dusty rose colour of his lips.

You desperately wanted to kiss him.

Bucky tentatively brought a hand up to cup your jaw, delicately sliding the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone – a small gesture that made you melt. You let his hand tilt your face upwards, smiling as the tip of your nose nudged against his. As his eyes began to flutter closed, you leaned forward and finally placed your lips on his.

Although he was mildly shocked, Bucky responded quickly. His lips moved slowly against yours, and he hummed quietly into the kiss when you threaded your fingers through his hair. He was in absolute bliss; this was his first kiss since the forties, and he couldn't be more glad that it was with you.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless and blushing wildly. Bucky was the first to break the silence.

"You're perfect," he whispered, before tugging you back towards him so he could kiss you again, more passionately this time.

You made a mental note to thank Steve and Nat later.