Mom & Dad

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Quick announcement! Endgame and Infinity War have no power in any of my fics so guess what?? No death, yes Thanos (maybe), no sadness, no bearded Steve, and most of my fics will have TFATWS Bucky, and some weird shit'll happen, really weird shit. Just saying, that some chapters will have elements of TFATWS.

I felt productive when doing this, hence the bunch of words here.

11, 389 words

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1– Anthony Edward Stark

The sun was barely getting out, the sky shifting from a dark purplish-blue to a pinkish-orange color, illuminating the room in pretty warm colors. The curtains were closed, but the windows were transparent and one of them was half-open, so the light still seeped in and the bird's singing could be heard, even if it wasn't too loud or pitchy.

The clock on the nightstand read 4:36 a.m in pale blue Arabic markers. But there were cars already going around in the streets below, honking and screeching as they went. There was a lot, for being so early in the morning, of people walking and talking to their partners and friends through the phone.

On the bed were two sleepy supersoldiers, namely Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. They were sound asleep, snoring quietly while holding to each other. They were chest to chest, Bucky's arms wrapped tightly and securely around Steve, keeping him in place. As if he was scared that if he let go, Steve would leave him. Even though they both knew that wouldn't happen, it was nice to have that comforting presence right in front of him.

Steve's head was tucked under Bucky's chin, with his mouth slightly agape, letting out quiet snores and puffs of breath. He was using Bucky's flesh and blood arm, more specifically his bicep, but let's not enter into detail, sort of like a pillow, too.

Bucky's chin was resting just atop of Steve's puffy, soft blond hair, his head completely still on the pillow. He tightened his arms around Steve, drawing him flush against him. He subconsciously entangled his legs with Steve's.

Even with their serum bodies, all big, strong, and muscled, Steve still managed to be soft to the touch. If you hug him, he'll feel nice, soft but strong at the same time. If you pet his head he'll give you a happy but rare smile, those smiles he reserves to only those close to him, to the Avengers, to his family. The same smile he gave the Howlies alone, to Howard and Peggy.

But even with all those muscles and mass, Bucky – for some unknown reason – was still larger, and beefier. Even though he and Steve were the same height now, Steve still felt small when he was beside him, he felt like Bucky was towering over him.

Bucky was big everywhere. Both his arms, metal and flesh one, were stronger, bigger than him. Not bigger than Thor's per se, but just big. And for some inexplicable reason, Steve still fit in his arms. When Bucky hugged Steve, wrapped his big arms around him, around his small waist, Steve felt perfectly safe, and nice, and fuzzy inside.

When they were sitting, with Steve's favorite blanket wrapped tightly around him, when Steve curled in Bucky's lap, tucked his face in his neck, and wrapped his arms loosely around his neck, he felt incredibly small.

Like he was a tiny mouse resting with a big, strong cat. All tiny and barely noticeable in comparison to the big, tall, strong cat. , instead of using brute force, he had to use his mind and brains to get out of trouble, while the cat could just use his muscles and intimidating figure to get out of it.

Bucky shifted onto his back, pulling Steve to rest against him and use his chest as a pillow.

The door to their bedroom opened to reveal Tony, all dirty and gotten out of the lab. His hair was dirty and tousled, he ran his fingers a little too harshly on it. His arms were all greasy and oily, including his face and shirt. He had bags under his eyes and he just looked outright tired.

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