The Feeling's Mutual | Bucky x Reader

9 | Overdue

Warm sunlight touched Bucky's eyelids. He blinked, squinting against the bright morning streaming in through the window. He'd barely moved before becoming aware of your weight on his chest - except you were significantly lighter. He looked down to see the top of your head.

You were human again. Transformed back in your sleep. You were draped over him, arms loosely wrapped around his abdomen and legs intertwined with his. Your face nested against his collarbone, just below his jaw.

Bucky carefully relaxed back into the couch. He didn't want to wake you. Not yet. Instead he took the opportunity to listen to your gentle breaths; tilting his head just enough to see your sleeping face. Your features were relaxed. Peaceful. Something he hadn't seen before. He wanted to see more of you, so he delicately brushed hair off your forehead with metal fingers.

Unfortunately you were a light sleeper. You breathed in deeply, stirred a little, and blinked up at him with hazy eyes.

"What are you doing?" you murmured. Sleep slurred your words.

Bucky's fingers never left your face, still stroking your forehead. "Watching you," he said, voice raspier than usual.

You hesitated, then scoffed and sat up. "Creep," you muttered, but you said it with a smile.

"You're lucky Sam's not around to be an even bigger creep. It'd be a shame if he caught us like this again." Bucky said it in a blatantly suggestive tone, making you imagine things between you that definitely weren't appropriate.

"You can't help but make everything sound dirty, can you?" you chided.

"Not my fault you have a dirty mind."

"Yeah, well, not my fault you're comfy." You regretted your honesty, but you couldn't take it back, so you quickly moved on. "What happened to that picture, anyway?"

Bucky decided to play along, shrugging smoothly. "Sam's phone got destroyed during the attack. Far as everyone else is concerned, anyway."

"You-" It took you a moment. Then you raised your brows. "You."

Bucky grinned. A very shamelessly guilty grin, too. That answered your question: the picture was gone, thanks to Bucky. If he really was the one to blame for Sam's damaged phone, then Sam must've known that as well. The problem was Sam couldn't point a finger at Bucky without also pointing one at himself: no one was going to side with Sam when he'd taken pictures of you both like a peeping tom. Bye-bye blackmail.

You were actually proud of Bucky.

"I didn't know you had it in you to be that sneaky, Barnes," you quipped, shoving his leg.

"You're a bad influence, l/n." He nudged you back with his knee. "Better watch out. In a week I'll be worse than you."

"I've never felt more threatened by a one-armed veteran."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Bad influence goes both ways. Old man."

Bucky's eyes flashed, and you half-regretted your words when he suddenly shot up off the couch and dug fingers into your ribs. You squealed, then laughed and began to thrash. Bucky's legs hooked around your middle, trapping you.

"Take it back, doll," he said, merciless in his attack.

"Oka-hay, okay! Let me breathe!" you gasped. Finally he did, and you caught your breath in his arms.

Then you looked out the window.

The snowstorm had finally passed, leaving a fresh blanket of white untouched snow on the ground and trees. The sky was a bright blue and the early sun cast rays of slanted gold amidst the pines.