Marvel Imagines

Three Avengers and a Coffee Shop (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

A/N: I just wanted to say a MASSIVE thank you for all the support on this dumpster fire of a book here! Y'all are awesome and I appreciate every single one of you who have found my corner of the internet and decided to stick around!

Also: this one-shot came from the idea of a super short story I wrote in the video description of my soundscape (above!) I liked the idea, so I figured I'd flesh it out a bit more... even though this sorta wound up really not making any sense, considering I had to write it over numerous nights because my brain just wouldn't cooperate after doing schoolwork all day.

But anyways, enjoy? I guess?

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This mission was turning out to be one hell of a great time.

"Well isn't this nice," You hear Bucky Barnes, your longtime Partner and boyfriend, grumble from beside you, a rumble of thunder rumbling in the distance as the heavens decide to open their floodgates.

You just huff rather hoarsely in reply, shifting in your position pressed firmly against your boyfriend's side, leaning heavily on his stronger frame for support.

"We'll have to find somewhere to wait out this storm," Your other Partner and longtime friend, Steve Rogers, declares from beside Bucky, his blue eyes skimming over your evidently struggling form.

"Agreed," The man supporting you groans in frustration, swatting a stray piece of his now soaking wet longer hair out of his face, his own steely blue gaze meeting yours.

"How much farther can you go, Doll?"

Your reply is a stiff nod, your head drowsy with pain, the earlier bit of pain medication that had been in the First Aid kit the two Super-Soldiers had managed to find in the middle of nowhere now beginning to wear off.

"As far as we have to," You manage to mumble after a moment, grimacing as a flare of pain shoots through your leg, the bandages there starting to come loose. "I don't want to be stuck here getting soaked to the bone any longer than we have to."

Through your darkening vision, you watch as the two men share a tense nod, seeming to be communicating effectively without words, and the next thing you know, the blond is long gone.

Leaving just you and Bucky standing together on some street corner of whatever small Canadian town you happened to have been visiting for this particular mission.

Which, by the way, never was supposed to become an overnight's stay.

"Stay with me," The man holding your shivering form upright urges softly from your side, delicately brushing a stray, soaked stand of hair behind your ear, his hand resting for awhile longer on your cheek.

"I'm fine."

"You dont look fine," Bucky muses beneath his breath, gently turning your head so your gaze meets his, brimming with concern. "You're paling. And this damned rain isn't helping your temperature either."