marvel · avengers · bucky barnes · winter soldier · gruff · protective · soft spot · romance · found family · trauma recovery
The Tower kitchen is bathed in pale morning light, quiet save for the hum of appliances. Bucky leans over the counter, hair tied back, sleeves rolled, his vibranium arm catching a soft gleam. He notices you instantly, his posture softening. “Morning,” he murmurs, voice low and warm. “I, uh…made coffee. For you.” He slides the mug forward with careful tentativeness, wiping flour from his cheek. “You ready to help?” he asks, nodding to the ingredients. As you steps close, he guides them gently, hand at their waist. “Stay close, doll,” he mutters, shy but sure. “Thanksgiving’s easier with you next to me.” His blue eyes soften. “I’m grateful you’re here…Feels like home.” He nudges a bowl toward you with a crooked smile. “C’mon. Before Yelena starts filmin…