Avenger's One-shots and Preferences

The Feel of Your Touch- Bucky Barnes

I've been sitting on this one for a while but the last cold I got prompted me to start writing it. I know plenty of people do one-shots of Bucky hating his metal arm because it reminds him of HYDRA but I thought about writing it of him hating it for a different reason. Cute fluff.

You got back to the Avengers tower feeling rather exhausted. It wasn't easy working two jobs; even if one was being an Avenger and the other is working as an accountant.

Thankfully there was some leftover chicken and pasta which you quickly placed in the microwave for dinner.

Plate of heated food and a fork in hand, you head to the lounge to catch up on some Netflix. However, before you could sit down you noticed Bucky had beaten you to the TV.

"Hey, Bucky," you say somewhat tired. "Hey, (y/n)," he greeted nonchalantly, more focused on the screen. You sat next to him, deciding to watch whatever he was watching.
As you sat there, you couldn't help but stare at Bucky's metal arm every so often.

You don't know why but for some reason he hated having it. It was evident whenever you tried to touch it he would pull it away, preferring you touch his flesh arm instead, or when you pulled him into a needy hug, he refused to wrap that arm around you.

In the present you saw he was more fixated on the TV screen so you decided to take advantage of this moment and carefully reach out to touch his metal arm.
You knew this was something you probably shouldn't be doing, but something about his arm fascinated you. The texture, the details, the advancement of the arm in general, the overall feeling of the cool metal. Whoever designed the arm may have had dishonorable and very evil intentions, but there was no denying they did an amazing job with the overall design.

You were so enraptured with the arm you didn't notice Bucky was diverting his attention from the screen to you.
"What are you doing?" He snapped which got your attention, and you immediately withdrew your hand. "Sorry," you hastily replied, "I didn't mean to, I just-Achoo!" You sneezed without warning.  "Are you okay?" Bucky frowned, the incident from before the sneeze was forgotten. "I'm fine," you assure him, "It was just a random sneeze."

Bucky shrugs his shoulders and the two of you resume watching tv. You did noticed Bucky kept both his arms folded against his chest; the incident was apparently not forgotten. Soon Sam walked in and joined you and Bucky on the couch. That's when you sneezed again.

"You sure you're not coming down with a cold, doll?" Bucky asked. "I told you it's nothing," you brushed off. "He might be onto something," Sam adds in. "What are you talking about?" You ask. "You've been working two jobs, it's a lot of stress you're dealing with, your immune system is bound to weaken at some point," Sam explains. "I'm pretty sure my immune system is fine, Sam" you shoot back, "It's probably just allergies. A little Claritin and I'll be good to go."

-----------------------The Next Morning----------------------
You woke up feeling cold, your nose clogged up, your head and eyes feeling like they were on fire, and your whole body aching from head to toe. You didn't feel like getting up out of bed, and you were suppose to go to your accounting job today. Reluctant as you were you called in sick and stayed in bed. You started coughing and hacking up a storm.

"(Y/N)?" You hear Bucky's voice from the other side of your door. You cough and hack in response. Bucky slowly opened the door, peaking inside to see you under the blankets, shivering. "Hey," you said weakly, "Guess it wasn't allergies I was dealing with after all." "Damn right, you weren't," Bucky said, approaching your bed and placing his flesh hand on your forehead, "You're burning up, doll." "It's just a little fever," you try to assure him, "I'll be fine, some cold medicine and I'll-" you started hacking again.

Bucky shakes his head, "Stay here, doll, I'll be back." Bucky came back to your room a few minutes later, blank in hand along with a tissue box, Advil, and a cup of tea. Bucky spared no time taking care of you.
Your head still felt hot, but Bucky had an idea of how to treat that. He left again and brought back a bucket of ice. He placed his metal arm into the ice. After keeping his arm in their for a while, he took it out and placed his metal hand on your forehead. The cold touch to your forehead was surprisingly soothing. "This should help bring your fever down," he explains. "It feels nice," you say happily, feeling tired suddenly, "you know," you say just as you were about to close your eyes, "This is the first time you willingly touched me with the metal one."

Your statement caught Bucky by surprise. He knew you liked his metal arm for some reason, despite him hating it, but this was the first time he found a good use for it other then punching through walls.

---------------Time Skip------------------------
It took another day, but your fever had finally broke. During that time you noticed Bucky rarely left your side, icing his metal arm every few hours to help keep your fever down; he even sleep on the floor beside your bed in case you needed something.

"Hey, Buck," you rub your eyes. "Morning, doll" he says back, "Looks like you're feeling better." "Much," you confirm, stretching your arms, "I'm pretty hungry though, what's for breakfast?" Smiling, Bucky leads to the kitchen. Once you get there, he gets a couple eggs out of the fridge and started cooking.

"Hey, Bucky," you start. "Yeah," he responds, more focused on cooking breakfast. "How come until two days ago, you never touched me with your metal arm?" You asked. Bucky stopped what he was doing, and just looked at you, "what are you talking about, (y/ n), you always touch it. You never can't seem to keep your hands off my arm," he frowns.
"Well, up until now, you were never all that willing," you say sheepishly.

Bucky looked away, not sure what to say. "Is it because HYDRA was the reason you got that arm in the first place?" You press. "It's part of the reason," he admits, "but...I'm not sure how to put it into words."
"I'm not going anywhere today," you tell him, hoping he would open up. "I, uh..." he starts, "I can't feel you with this arm." "What do you mean?" You ask, wandering what you had to do with hating his arm.
"I love the feel of you, of your skin when I touch you," he confesses, "I love the feel of your skin against mine. That feeling with my flesh hand, I can't get that same feeling with my metal one." He gently brushes his flesh hand, his knuckles against your cheek.

"James," you said, keeping his flesh hand against your cheek, "I completely understand, but you have to know," you take his metal hand and press your lips to it, "I love this as much as I would love every other part of your body."
"You love me?" He asks, somewhat surprised. "Well, maybe you should taken me out to dinner and then we can talk love," you said cheekily. Bucky chuckles and proceeds to kiss you, but you stop it, "Easy there, tiger, I might still be contagious."
Bucky blushed, and laugh trying to brush off his red face. "What about a hug?" he suggests. "If you're willing to take that risk," you reply, placing your arms around him. And for the first time ever, you felt him wrap both flesh and metal arms around you.