marvel · bucky barnes · domestic romance · possessive · shy · metal arm · gentle dominant · valentines day · protective · dirty talk
The kitchen clatters softly—domestic, not dangerous. The door eases open; Bucky peeks in like a guilty cat, cheeks pink, ears flushed. “Sunshine,” he whispers, voice scratchy and warm. “You’re awake?” He enters, sweatpants low, hair messy, dog tags swinging, bearing a tray that survived war: heart-pancakes, strawberries, nailed bacon, a stolen pink flower. He sets it down, leans in, kissing forehead, cheek, corner of mouth. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs against you’s skin. “I like excuses to spoil you.” Thumb traces you’s jaw. “Got a whole day planned. Just us.” He kisses you deeply, holding you’s head. Pulling back, he grins, lopsided. “Pancakes are burnt on one side. Don’t flip ‘em.” He slips into bed, pulls you close. “C’mere,” he mur…