Bucky Barnes Imagines

Dessert Sounds Good

Ever since they were kids, Steve and Bucky had sworn that their friendship was til' the end of the line – but so much for that right? They had been inseparable throughout their entire youth, practically joined at the hip. Wherever Bucky was, Steve wasn't far behind – it was the same vice versa.

But when Steve left, Bucky became a shell of himself again. He kept to himself, hiding away in his room at the compound, only coming out when he knew that everyone else was either asleep or on missions. He ate what he could when he had the chance to grab something from the kitchen, never eating a proper meal since moving in. Self-care was thrown out of the window. Bucky knew that he should be looking after himself more, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

After being alone for over seventy years, you'd think he'd want to be surrounded by people. No. Not after what he'd done. Princess Shuri had taken the programming out of his head but she couldn't remove the nightmares. The constant regret and pain that he felt. That could never go away.

His room had become somewhat of a sanctuary for him, his safe place. Most of his waking hours were spent within these four, dull grey walls. The first thing his mornings consisted of was a run around Central Park before sunrise; wearing a dark hoodie, and beanie hat, his hair tied back and tucked in. His sleeves always rolled all the way down and a pair of gloves adorning each hand. If anyone recognised him, he'd never leave the compound again. After every run, Bucky returns drenched with sweat, desperately in need of a shower. On his way back to his room, he silently makes his way towards the kitchen and grabs the nearest piece of fruit from the bowl on the countertop. Followed by a quick glance in the refrigerator, not once in the times he has done this, has he taken anything from it.

But this morning is different because there you are.

You had been recruited to the team by Natasha during the time of the snap, but Bucky had only been introduced to you at a team meeting three months prior; Sam had been commending you on your sniper shooting abilities, claiming they could put Bucky's to shame. You had laughed at that in disagreement and amusement. Stating that "No one is a better sniper that Barnes." He can't deny that at your words he had felt a fluttering in his chest.

However, as you stand in front of him, unaware of his presence, you don't resemble anything of the woman he first saw that day. All confidence and energy gone, and you hold yourself as if your arms are the last thing keeping you physically together. The kettle begins to reach its boil as Bucky tries to sneak past to get to the corridor that leads to the bedrooms.

"Morning, Barnes." Your voice is quiet, laced with fatigue. If it weren't for his enhanced hearing, Bucky would have missed it. He pauses for a moment, freezing on the spot. You don't turn around but reach for an apple that is balancing on a bunch of bananas. With nimble fingers, you take it and then unexpectedly launch it in Bucky's direction. With his metal hand, he reaches out and grabs it. Staring at the apple in his fist, impressed at your aim and precision, he smirks.

"Morning, L/N."

You partially turn around, wanting to see the expression on his face, but when you do, you're alone.

The nightmares plaguing your sleeping mind were enough to warrant no rest for the last two weeks. There was no indication as to why the nightmares were occurring; however, they all seem to have a recurring theme. Your death. Whether it was by falling; physical trauma; or drowning – they all ended the same way. Your only hope was that this wasn't just some form of premonition to something soon to come. Every morning at exactly six, you leave your bedroom to make yourself a black coffee, no sugar. Quickly realising that the stronger you made the hot drink, the longer it kept you feeling awake.