HAPPY BDAYYYY !!! coincidentally it is also my mom's bday today lol, here's a lil buckytony for u !!!
which connects to my prompt: tony is used to feeling cold, he had to be (the cave was so cold in the death of the night) and he knows that bucky is, too, even if the man always seem to run hot due to the serum. well, it's the winter season, what better excuse does he have except that he needs a human blanket?
basically tony holding hands, hugging, or cuddling bucky to fend off the cold !!
hello!!! i’m SO sorry this took practically half a year but i just want you to know that your art makes me so happy and seeing this in my inbox was one of the best gifts i could have asked for. bucky and tony are so fucking cute and i’m obsessed with bucky’s blush and tony’s eyelashes 🥰 i hope your mom also had a lovely time celebrating her birthday!!
anyway, without delaying this any further than i already have—
Bucky had never been able to feel anything with the heavy silver arm that was forced onto him, which made it useful as a shield as well as a blunt force weapon. It was perfect for the Winter Soldier, the unfeeling assassin whose sole existence was to comply orders and complete missions. Having it blown off may have been a shock at first, but it had quickly morphed into relief when Bucky had realized that losing the arm was the first real step towards finally, truly breaking free from the shackles of Hydra.
Since having his triggers removed and embarking on his slow journey towards recovery, Bucky has decided that he has no interest in fighting anymore, keen to stay home and monitor the feeds while the rest of the team is out being heroes. He’s happy to be retired, happy to uncover new things about himself as he learns how to bake croissants and build terrariums. It’s a kind of peace he never thought he’d be able to have when he was trapped for seventy years as a prisoner of war, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
So when he had been asked what he would like in a new prosthetic, Bucky had said, just a regular arm; no super strength, no nifty weapons hidden in the plates. Just a functional part of his body for him to get through his daily life.
Tony had gone above and beyond, presenting Bucky with a prosthetic that had far exceeded his expectations. Not only is the arm intuitive, with nanobots that shift like real muscle and fat as Bucky moves, but it is also regulated to match the rest of Bucky’s body in strength and temperature. If it had been painted a color to match Bucky’s skin, it would almost be indiscernible to a real arm.
Despite the prosthetic being made with the most advanced technology the world has to offer—despite all the cyborg jokes his friends like to tease him with—Bucky has never felt more human.
With the new arm, Tony hadn’t just given Bucky back a sense of normalcy. He’d also given Bucky a brighter future than he had ever dared to imagine.
He still remembers the day in the lab after they had run through their last series of tests with the new arm.
He had just put down the stress ball they used for the pressure test, still marveling at how he could feel the texture of the rubber, when Tony had spoken up.
“Okay. One last thing I’d like us to try. Hold your hand out?”
Bucky had done as he was asked, not quite sure what to expect, when Tony had reached out with his right hand and wound their fingers together. He hadn’t been able to hold back a gasp, staring at their joined hands as he felt the cold of Tony’s hand seeping through the warmth that he hadn’t realized was coming from his own arm. Then Tony had squeezed once, affectionately, stepping closer until they were only inches apart, and Bucky’s heart had stuttered in his chest as he glanced up and saw the way Tony had been smiling at him.
“How does this feel?” Tony had asked, red faintly dusting his cheeks in a way Bucky had been sure no one else had ever seen before.
Feeling whole and brave, and like the ice in his veins is finally starting to melt for the first time in decades, Bucky had gently squeezed back.
“Good. It feels nice. You feel nice.”
“Well, good. You’re warm, so I think I’ll be holding on to you for a while. You know, just to stave off the cold,” Tony had declared.
Tony is tactile. That had been the first thing that Bucky learned about Tony when the team had been pardoned, made their amends with each other, and gone back to New York.
His touches are gentle and reassuring, drawing smiles from whoever he has focused his attention on at the moment. Rhodes leans into the hand that Tony brushes against his back as he walks by, for a moment relying on his friend’s strength instead of his leg braces. Natalia is a constant presence by Tony’s side during movie nights, bumping her head against his hand like a cat just so he would play with her hair. Peter beams like he’s aced a test every time Tony squeezes his shoulder affectionately after helping with his physics homework. Steve rolls his eyes fondly whenever Tony pokes his abs teasingly after a workout, but always teases right back by lifting his shirt up to goad Tony into doing it again.
Being touched by Tony is like a drug, and Bucky has been addicted since the first time Tony held his hand. Which is just as well, because when Tony said he would be holding on for a while, he wasn’t kidding.
After that first time in the lab, Tony always, always holds Bucky close when they’re together.
He takes Bucky by the hand and drags him to dinner with the team, never loosening his grip even when Sam raises a pointed eyebrow at their joined hands. “For warmth,” Tony says, and when he takes his place at the table, he promptly kicks Steve out of his usual spot because he refuses to release their entwined fingers. Bucky just watches amusedly as Steve takes his old seat next to Rhodes and sits down next to Tony, only letting go so he can scoot closer and swing his arm across the back of Tony’s chair as they eat.
He drapes Bucky’s left arm over his shoulder when they’re out, snuggling close to his side as they take the long way walking home after dinner. “For warmth,” Tony says, even though he’s wrapped up in several layers of expensive wool and cashmere. Bucky just pulls him in tighter and steers him towards their favorite gelato bar for dessert, because even though Tony runs cold and always claims he doesn’t like sweets, Bucky knows he’d never say no to ice cream.
He sleeps on the right side of the bed so he can use Bucky’s arm as another pillow, despite knowing the hard planes of metal can’t possibly be comfortable for him. “For warmth,” Tony says as he presses a kiss to Bucky’s reconstructed shoulder and dozes off under their weighted blanket made of the fluffiest down feathers. Bucky just smiles indulgently and curls in closer, perfectly happy to tolerate overheating in his sleep if it means going to bed every night with his favorite person in the world.
Having Tony in his arms warms him from the inside out, like an endless summer after a lifetime spent lost in the cold.
