Marvel Imagines

maybe it could've been ➳ bucky barnes

hi everyone! it's been a couple months, but here is yet another one shot for our baby boy bucky (f!reader). I hope you enjoy x

The little bell on the door of the café chimes as Bucky steps in, hair soaked from the rain and eyes alert.

With a quick look around the room, it's clear you haven't arrived yet. His shoulders sag a little, and he checks his phone to be sure he's got the right time. 11:30 am. Yes, that's right.

Bucky rubs his palms against his jeans, sweaty with the cool slick of rain and his own nerves. His hands shake as he slips into your usual table—well, used to be your usual, tucked away in the back. The tremors continue as he orders, almost ordering you a cup before he remembers that you're not his girl anymore. The words die on his lips. He doesn't have the right to order your coffee anymore. He wonders if it's changed.

—

You're not sure why Bucky called you, why you agreed to meet him for coffee. Wanda's been nagging you about expanding your horizons, y/n, there's a world out there larger than your laptop and clients!

Maybe that was it. Maybe you missed him, even after everything. Maybe it was a bit of both.

The sight of the café leaves you breathless, and it takes all your strength to step over the threshold. Why meet him here, where it all began? The barista's new, an unfamiliar girl with a sleeve of tattoos and nose ring, but the place looks exactly how you left it three months ago. A moment in time, frozen when you and Bucky still had a table to call your own and made eyes over your coffee cups. Maybe it's fitting that he chose to meet you here. Maybe it's a cruel twist of fate.

Bucky calls your name, and you turn to see him at your usual table. Tears prick your eyes at the familiar sight of him in that leather jacket and blue henley, waiting for you with that smile. You force the memories away before you get too caught up, and decide meeting Bucky for coffee is a bad idea. It's a terrible idea, but there's no turning back now.

The walk to the table is infuriatingly short, and you're there before you know it. "Hi," you manage to make out.

"Hi." Bucky smiles, blue eyes soft and tentative smile in that way of his. "I'm glad you came. How have you been?"

It shouldn't hurt you the way that it does, but the question gets beneath your skin. He doesn't have the right to know you anymore. But wasn't that why you'd agreed to this, to "catch up" on how your lives have been without each other?

"I've been good, if not a little busy. Work's been kicking my ass lately, but what else is new." You sigh at that, internally cringing at the phrase. Common enough, but it was something you'd said a lot during your relationship, after a particularly stressful day, bad bit of news, or snarl of frustration. You hate how only a few words can bring up so many memories, and especially memories with him.

Bucky smiles at the familiar phrase, mistaking your sigh of frustration for work. "Good, that's good to hear, doll."

And there's his mistake. You flinch at the nickname, shifting uncomfortably back in your chair. He instinctively reaches out a hand, maybe to place on your arm, before he rests it back on the table. Bucky doesn't miss the flash of hurt in your eyes, nor do you miss the flicker of concern in his. He doesn't have the right to call you that anymore. He knows that... but he wants to.

He coughs, gaze settling on the soft rain outside. "Nice weather we've been having lately."

You offer him a small smile, grateful for the subject change. "Yeah, it's been crazy, hey. How have you and Sam been? He still giving you a hard time?"

"Always," Bucky grins, and so the next half hour goes by in a blur. You eat in slightly uncomfortable silence, letting him talk and nodding here and there, more focused on picking at your blueberry muffin. It's easier to let him speak, given how hard it is to get him to open up, and Bucky babbles when he's nervous.

He knows you're uncomfortable, knows your guard is up from the wary expression you keep giving him. It's not hard to figure out why. The last time you both saw each other certainly wasn't at an amicable midday coffee. Your desperate expression fills his mind, the image of a table set for two with crumpled rose petals and cold dinner, and he pushes it away with a twinge of guilt.

Bucky takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. Sam's teasing fills his mind, don't chicken out, dude! Just say what you came to say and see what happens! If only it were that easy, but he tries. "Look, I just wanted to apologise, y'know, for last December."

Your gaze comes back into sharp focus at that, mug frozen halfway to your mouth. You blink, and choke down a large sip of coffee, inadvertently giving him time to continue. That's what this catch up really was? A painful backdrop to an overdue apology?

"I've just... I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and seeing my therapist, and I know one thing I can apologise for is the way I treated you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry." Bucky brushes the hair back off his forehead, and you stop your gaze from following the movement.

"Yeah, well... I mean, there's a lot to be sorry for. I wasn't someone you could just push away, Buck, I deserved more than that." You sigh, picking at a stray cuticle just to do something with your hands, before you reconsider. He was putting in the hard work, seeing a therapist and getting proper help that wasn't running off to the next mission. "It's good to hear that you're seeing someone, though. That's all I ever wanted for you, you know."

"I appreciate that," he nods. Bucky hopes to continue, to really apologise and maybe win you back, but your eyes are sweeping the room and it's clear he's overstepped. He clears his throat, and with both of you finished, he stands to leave.

You mirror his movements, sliding your jacket off the chair and slipping it over your shoulders. With your wallet and phone in one hand, you follow him out of the café and into the rain.

You huddle together under the roof, desperate to stay out of the rain and preserve your straightened hair. The proximity makes you shudder, and Bucky wishes he could wrap an arm around you, that he could protect you.

"Well, I should be off," a glance at your watch makes you cringe. "I've got to head back to the office. Clients to see, emails to reply to, and all that."

You hope he can't tell you're desperate to bury yourself in work again.

Bucky's heart sinks, knowing your deflection all too well. Hating that you can't be comfortable around him, not anymore, that you have to keep your guard up. It reminds him of himself. But he can't keep you, can't force you to stay, and so he lets you go. "Right. Yeah, it was nice seeing you again, though. I'm glad you're doing okay, after... you know..."

After he unceremoniously dumped you, convinced he was a burden to everyone around him. After you weren't enough for him to stay, to seek proper help. After the tears and the loneliness and not even a happy birthday call.

"You too," you murmur, unsure if you really mean it.

But it's enough for him, and with that, you go your separate ways again.

And maybe it could've been something more, if he'd gotten his apology right and asked for you to take him back, if he'd confessed just how much he'd missed your smile and loving arms. Maybe, maybe not. He'd never know. Maybe you were thinking the same. All he knew was, if you gave him that second chance, if you loved again, Bucky swore on every star he'd love you right.