bucky barnes imagines

lxxx. 104 YEARS

A/N – Happy birthday, James Buchanan Barnes. (Oh, and this imagine is trash, sorry.)

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When your alarm woke you up at seven in the morning, you wanted nothing more than to switch it off and go back to sleep. However, you knew that you couldn't – it was March 10th, meaning you had more important things to do.

After silencing the annoying blaring sound from your phone, you slowly rolled over, trying not to wake your boyfriend. Bucky was a pretty heavy sleeper, hence why the alarm hadn't disturbed him, but with both of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, it was difficult to manoeuvre yourself out of bed in a way that didn't cause too much movement.

Nonetheless, you managed it, pausing to place a soft kiss on his forehead. Adorably, he smiled in his sleep and let out a tiny, contented sigh, which made you chuckle quietly to yourself.

Closing the bedroom door behind you, you made your way into the bathroom to take a quick shower, put on some clothes, brush your teeth and fix your hair a little. When you looked presentable enough, you then entered the kitchen to make some breakfast.

Luckily for you, Bucky's favourite breakfast was easy to make – just plain pancakes topped with syrup, or sometimes, if he wanted something a little more interesting, some strawberries and sugar instead. To spice things up a bit, you decided to carefully cut the strawberries into letters, arranging them on top of the pancake stack to read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY". When you were satisfied with your efforts, you poked a candle into the centre, lit it, and carried the plate back into your room along with a mug of black coffee.

Unsurprisingly, he was still asleep, so you dramatically cleared your throat and began to sing the traditional 'happy birthday' song rather loudly. About halfway through, Bucky groggily opened his eyes and groaned; much like you, he was still tired, but the sight of you all smiley and enthusiastic brought a grin to his face.

"Pancakes!" he spoke happily, sitting up in bed. "Thank you, babydoll."

"Sorry there's only one candle, one hundred and four wouldn't fit," you joked.

When you sat down next to him, he immediately leaned towards you, wanting kisses and cuddles. Giggling, you gestured towards the candle, reminding him not to burn himself.

"Blow it out and make a wish!"

Bucky had wished for the same thing every year since he'd met you – all he wanted was to be able to stay with you forever. So far, it seemed to be working, because the two of you were still more in love with each other than you knew was even possible.

Once the flame was out properly, you quickly engulfed him in a huge hug, simultaneously peppering light kisses all over his face, a slightly childish act of affection that never failed to make him smile. Of course, Bucky being Bucky, he just wanted to pull you into his lap and forget all about breakfast, but he figured that it could wait until later.

He insisted on sharing the pancakes with you, all while complimenting your (mediocre at best) cooking. You made sure to eat your share quickly, giving you a chance to dash out of the room and return with an armful of gifts.

"Oh, sweetheart... you shouldn't—"

"Don't say I shouldn't have," you interrupted, "because I wanted to. You always spoil me, so why shouldn't I do the same for you?"

Although Bucky could've argued, he simply remained quiet, instead placing one last, lingering kiss to your lips before beginning to open everything that you'd bought for him. He found himself almost amazed at how well you knew him – you'd picked out things he'd been wanting for ages, things he'd never heard of before, even things that he didn't know he needed up until that moment. His favourite gift was the simplest – just a framed photo of the two of you, taken on the day that he'd asked you to be his girlfriend. The best day of his life so far.

Although the rest of your friends would be arriving soon for a proper party (a surprise party, since he knew nothing about it yet), you let Bucky lay down again, with you snuggled up to his side. His love language was undeniably focused on touch, as was yours – and anyway, it was his birthday. If he wanted cuddles, that's what he would get.

"Thank you, Y/N," he repeated for the fourth time. "I love you. A lot. More than anything."

"I love you too," you murmured, intertwining your fingers with his. "And I have another gift for you later."

"Another one?" he replied, misunderstanding the point you were trying to make.

"Trust me, you'll love it. I'll model it for you, alright?" you winked, making the hint more obvious as you remembered the new lingerie set hiding at the back of your underwear drawer. You laughed when Bucky's jaw dropped.

"Do we have to wait until later?" he asked impatiently, his mind already drifting to the most sinful of places.

"Yes," you replied firmly, "we have plans today. But... you still have to take a shower, right?"

This time, he fully understood what you were insinuating. He smirked and, before you knew it, he was climbing out of bed and carrying you all the way to the bathroom.

Bucky was going to be a little late to his own party, but it was worth it.