Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Cuddles

Steve is always down for cuddling. He is never one for PDA, but when it's in private, he'll never let go. His grip is warm, and makes you feel protected at all costs. Though, sometimes the positions are hard, especially when you don't want to move.

When your periods came around, he always found you asleep in the arm chair in the corner of your shared room, his sweatshirt over your legs as you curl into a small ball. He knows better than to move you after a serious arguement he was smiling through, causing you to cry once you realized he was laughing at your pain.

He found you were more comfortable in the small space, your cramps just to the point you could sleep, and your body just the right temperature right under the vent, even though you were freezing and most likely catching a case of frostbite.

But Steve never moved you when he found you there. Sometimes he would lift you up if you were asleep and let you lay in his lap, taking in your peace as you curled underneath him for every ounce of warmth he was giving. Or would trade his sweatshirt out for the real blanket to make sure you were warm enough, upping the heat just a little to make sure you wouldn't get sick. But he didn't move you.

Cuddling was something Steve loved to do after a rough mission. Things would go wrong, and he just needed the time to himself, most the time not even showering as he plopped in the same chair to stare at the wall ahead of him. He would forget you were sleeping in the bed until he felt your hands on his shoulders, and then you would be standing in front of him.

He would let his forehead drop right on your stomach to just think as your nails scratch his head just perfectly, no matter how dirty he was. Most the time he would almost fall asleep when he would finally register where he was, cleaning up and laying with you directly on top of him.

If it was so bad, you would even hold him, his favorite spot being between your legs so he can hold your waist just as tight as he would when spooning you. He would sigh softly as your fingers ran across his scalp, and he would wake up in the morning to you still asleep, the blankets just keeping his beautifully shaped ass covered as your hands rested on his back.

As of now, Steve is walking into the room to find all the sheets off the bed with the room almost dropping with ice. The lights are off and nothing can be seen, not even through the window. Jarvis is quick enough to lightly brighten the room, keeping the lights dim to illuminate you curled up in the chair, the heating pad laying across your stomach as you curl as small as you can in the piece of furniture.

He sighs and drops his bag down on the ground before upping the temperature, having seen your shivering from where he stood in the doorway. After, he moves to grab new linens, placing them along the bed before situating the pillows back onto the mattress.

By the time he gets to you, there was light heat moving onto your body, the heating pad still on max with sleep taking over you. He kisses your head and leaves to the bathroom, shutting the door all the way to keep the sounds from entering.

"J, tell me if Y/N wakes up," he asks the AI while starting the water, ridding of his suit and stepping beneath the fall of the warm water washing away the sweat and grime from the easy, but week and a half long mission.

Running around streets in a foreign country will always be something he will never quite understand from his job. The traveling was familiar to how he was just some soldier in a costume, but now he really saves lives, going between country to country, continent to continent to help people with big threats.

But between that journey, he found some piece of home to come back to, the welcoming much better than how imagines it. Whether it's late at night, or early in the morning, you're always there for him, asleep or not. Sometimes he can tell if you waited for him or if you truly just went to bed.

Steve steps out of the shower and dries off, getting dressed in the bathroom before slowly opening the door. You were still asleep in the chair, peaceful almost if you didn't shift just to do it again. He walks over and lifts you from the cushion, sitting down with you laying across him. He reclines back just enough to be in a laying position, and relaxes with you against him, smelling the shampoo of your damp hair as more heat comes from the vent above.

The odd weight below you is what wakes you hours later, the cramps almost to the max as Steve's arm gently lays across your stomach, as if he was trying to make a barrier to stop your uterous from creating the torture of a reminder you are infact not pregnant. If only it was a one time thing...

The heating pad has turned off automatically and even fallen to the floor, the blanket surrounding the two of you slowly slipping off Steve's shoulders and onto your chest, being able to feel the warmth he is giving off as he holds you. It is dead of night, and yet he chose to sleep with you when coming back, your heart melting as you curl into him just a little more to feel his arm tighten around your body.

"Are you awake?" Instantly, he is sitting up, his back keeping you from falling over the arm of the chair as he lifts your knees so you can get blood flowing through them once again. Seeing your nod through the darkness of the room, he kisses your head and stands, taking your silence as his que to move to the bed, where thin sheets are covering the mattress. "Did blood get on the sheets?"

"I didn't know I was starting today," you mutter into his chest as he places you down, your body just moving to be comfortable again when he slides the heating pad back over your stomach. "I don't remember if I started the washing machine."

"I started it for you." His voice is across the room, but you feel the pull of his weight as he climbs onto the bed, missing his smile once he opens his arms to invite you over, but ignore him. Accidentally. "Wanna come over here, Hot Stuff?"

"The heating pad isn't hot enough."

"If it was hotter, you would probably burn yourself from how many times you fall asleep with it on, Y/N," he states, and you look over your shoulder to glare at him, only it doesn't last long from the evident smirk he has on his lips. "You just know I'm right. Come over, get comfy." Not having to be told twice, you shift to be snuggled into his side, relaxing at just the feel of his arm on you shoulder to massage.

"How was the mission?" Trying to talk to him through sleep mess of a brain, you close your eyes and losten to him talk shit about Bucky and his attitude over the week of being away from Natasha, smiling when he gets sidetracked and starts talking about you.

It slowly becomes a muffle in your ears as sleep takes over, and you know he knows, yet continues, the ghost of his lips being the last thing you feel before being completely taken over by the warmth of him.

"Love you, Y/N."

Word Count - 1322