I feel like bucky is the kind of person who has to keep touching his girl at all times not always sexually but just to ground himself and believe it's real.
I also think others would find it funny, like he's playing with her ear while she's reading a book and she's unbothered 😃 and someone who sees them is like "they're so wierd" 😂
anon, you get me. because listen, bucky barnes is a touchy man. you would think he isn't because of what he's been through but the level of calm your touch can bring him is unmatched. this man yearns for the peace having a simple pinky on your elbow can bring him.
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There were few things in the world Bucky Barnes trusted implicitly.
The click of a well-loaded magazine sliding into place. The weight of his combat knife in his palm. Sam Wilson showing up just in time to say, “Told you so.”
And her.
Not that she made any sense, really. Not when she smiled like that or laughed so hard she snorted, or went around the apartment with socks that never matched because, in her words, “they’re soulmates, not twins.”
But her presence—solid, dependable, gentle—that made sense in a way he couldn’t explain.
And so, he touched her. Constantly.
It wasn’t always obvious. Sometimes it was just a pinky looped around hers while walking through the compound halls. Other times it was his head nudging her thigh while she folded laundry, or his hand sliding beneath the hem of her shirt just to rest against the warmth of her skin while she read on the couch.
He’d never really explained it to her. Not out loud. But she seemed to understand anyway. Never once shied away. Never once asked him to stop.
This particular Saturday was quiet. A miracle, considering who they lived with half the time.
She was curled into the corner of the couch, oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, completely absorbed in her book. Bucky lay beside her with his head on her lap, eyes closed, hand idly toying with the curve of her ear.
It wasn’t intentional at first. His fingers had started near her knee, then wandered up to the hem of her shorts, then to her hip—just resting—before migrating to her earlobe, which he now twisted gently between his thumb and finger like it was some kind of fidget toy.
She didn’t even blink.
He tugged gently. No reaction.
Ran a fingertip along the shell of her ear. Nothing.
Tapped the little tragus bit twice, like a doorbell. Still nothing.
He smiled, eyes still closed. “You’re not even gonna flinch, huh?”
“Nope.” She turned a page without looking up. “You’re not as annoying as you think you are.”
He huffed a laugh and twisted again, this time adding a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist for good measure.
“Seriously,” Sam’s voice rang out from the hallway as he entered the room, holding a cup of coffee and looking entirely too amused, “you two are so weird.”
She looked up and smiled lazily. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Morning,” Bucky mumbled without moving, fingers still playing with her ear.
Sam squinted at them like they were a science experiment. “I mean—just look at this. You’re reading like a normal person, and he’s over there… fondling your ear like it owes him money.”
Bucky cracked one eye open. “It calms me.”
“It’s giving Victorian ghost with a fixation,” Sam deadpanned. “Like you’re trying to haunt her but gently.”
That made her laugh, and Bucky just sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss to her hip.
“Do you have to be touching her every second of the day?” Sam asked, more curious than critical now.
Bucky gave a lazy shrug from her lap. “I like knowing she’s there.”
She closed her book, finally giving them both her attention. “You know how some people need a white noise machine to fall asleep?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Bucky’s like that. But instead of noise, it’s skin.”
Sam blinked. “Wow. That's… kinda adorable. Kinda creepy. But mostly adorable.”
Bucky lifted his hand and reached toward her again, this time tracing her jaw with the back of his finger. “You’re warm. It helps.”
“I’m a human space heater,” she quipped.
“You’re my heater.”
“Alright,” Sam groaned, standing up. “I’ve hit my tolerance for couple-level PDA. Gonna go train with people who don’t whisper sweet nothings and play ear tag.”
“You’re just jealous you’re not in a committed relationship with a sentient blanket,” she called after him.
“Don’t tempt me!” Sam shouted back as the door closed behind him.
Later that evening, Bucky sat behind her at the kitchen island while she scrolled through her laptop, absentmindedly sipping tea. His arms were wrapped around her waist, chin hooked over her shoulder, the curve of his nose tucked into her neck like he was trying to memorize the scent of her skin.
She reached one hand back to card through his hair. “You okay?”
“Mmhm.” He nuzzled her. “You smell like lavender and cinnamon.”
“Because I used your body wash and spilled chai on myself. Accidental perfume.”
He hummed again, lips pressing against the softest part of her neck.
“I ever tell you,” he murmured, “that sometimes I wake up and reach for you just to check you’re real?”
She turned her head slightly, eyes soft. “Yeah. You tell me in your sleep, too.”
He blinked. “I do?”
“Mmhmm. Last week you said, ‘don’t disappear,’ and wrapped yourself around me like an octopus.”
His arms tightened around her instinctively. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I like being your octopus.”
He chuckled, forehead pressed to her shoulder now, one hand slipping under the hem of her shirt again to rest just above her waistband—where her warmth pulsed, soft and alive and real.
“You don’t have to explain it, Buck.” She kissed the side of his head. “I get it. I know.”
That night, as they lay in bed, her head resting on his chest and one leg thrown over his hips, he traced invisible circles along the curve of her spine.
“I like your weird,” she whispered.
“I like that you never ask me to stop,” he replied.
“You’re not too much, you know.”
He pulled her closer, letting the silence stretch for a while before murmuring: “I think… for a long time, I thought I didn’t get to have this. Not like this.”
She looked up at him. “You do. Every part of it. And more.”
His thumb brushed along her cheekbone, slow and reverent. “Then I’m never letting go.”
She smiled. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning to move anyway.”
@bexshaneflufffebruary // rating: g // words: 512 Day #1: checking in without words
After everything that happened, they don't talk about it.
He doesn't ask if she's okay.
She doesn't apologize.
He just stays.
She just makes sure he's still there.
Sometimes the line isn't crossed.
It's just...stood near.
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