bucky barnes imagines

lxxiv. WINTER

Winter was your least favourite season. Of course, it had its perks – snowball fights, ice skating, Christmas – but none of that was enough to overthrow your hatred of the cold, especially when you lived in a barely adequate apartment with an extremely temperamental heating system.

Every year, without fail, your heater would break at some point. This year, the failure came one morning early in December; you woke up freezing and trembling, despite still being huddled under the covers. With a frustrated sigh, you stretched an arm out to grab your phone, dialling the most familiar number that came to mind.

"Let me guess, the heater's out?" Bucky answered with a chuckle, the low sound somehow making you feel just a little warmer.

"H-how'd you know?" you responded drily, trying (and failing) to stop your teeth from chattering.

"Don't tell me you weren't expecting this, doll. Stay in bed, I'm on my way." And with that, he hung up, leaving you to count down the long minutes until he arrived.

A while later, you heard the telltale sound of Bucky's spare key jangling outside as he let himself in, before eventually appearing in your doorway, a silhouette holding a cup of hot cocoa. He used his elbow to flick the light switch on, and laughed heartily when you leaned forwards, hair dishevelled, making grabby hands towards your favourite drink.

"Did you call the repairman?" he asked, handing you the cup and sitting down at the edge of your bed.

"No point, he always says he's on holiday and can't help until after Christmas," you muttered bitterly.

Bucky smiled sympathetically, before shrugging his coat off and draping it over your shoulders as an extra blanket. The two of you went through this routine every year, but still, you protested against the sweet gesture.

"Bucky, you already know what I'm going to say."

"And you already know what I'm gonna say. Keep it, sweetheart."

Your face flushed at the pet name and you felt your resolve faltering, but you continued to argue nonetheless. "No, take it back, or you might catch a cold. I'm fine."

"You're shaking. Stay here, alright? I'm making you some breakfast."

Bucky was gone before you could stop him – though admittedly, he wouldn't have listened anyway, and you always ended up giving in to him. Sighing, you snuggled into his coat, taking comfort in the way that it smelled like him, like cinnamon and spices and home.

You were almost drifting back to sleep when he returned, this time holding two steaming plates of pancakes drizzled with syrup. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you thanked him gratefully as you both began to eat in relative silence. It was only after you'd finished and your plates were balanced precariously on your nightstand that you noticed Bucky was now trembling slightly, his skin turning red from the cold.

"C'mere," you insisted, opening your arms without a second thought and grinning when he shuffled towards you.

Although this situation was a regular occurrence, cuddling was very much new territory. Bucky rested his head on your shoulder initially, before sighing and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck instead. You wrapped your arms around his torso, while his own arms moved to circle your waist, the two of you becoming a messy tangle of limbs, smiling and trying to hide your blushes from each other.

Although you were tired, you found yourself wide awake again when Bucky absentmindedly placed a kiss to your neck, just above your collar bone. A simple gesture, but it was more than enough to make your heart race as you glanced at him, finding the courage to lace your fingers through his hair.

You stayed that way, curled up together, for hours. Every once in a while, one of you would shift a little, until you eventually ended up laying down, facing each other, your foreheads pressed together.

It was only a matter of time before either of you leaned forward just a tiny bit to connect your lips. You weren't even sure who made the move, but you were more than glad to finally kiss Bucky, slowly and softly, the two of you silently lovesick.

"Hey," you murmured, some time later. "Does this mean we can stay like this until the repairman can come out?"

"I guess so, babydoll. I'm not complaining."