pairing: avenger!bucky x avenger!reader
summary: When Bucky had trouble falling asleep, he sought you out for some company and comfort. What he didn’t expect was that between fatigue and vulnerability, feelings had a way of coming through.
warnings: Very brief mentions of Bucky’s past and nightmares, Not exactly smutty but it’s hinted at, Other than that just a whole lot of fluff and comfort
author’s note: Honestly kinda nervous, this is my first tumblr post ever! I edited this a few days ago but couldn’t really bring myself to proofread it because my own writing always cringes me out, so I’m sorry for any mistakes! I’m planning on posting a small sequel sometime next week and really hope that you enjoy this part, comments and feedback would be highly appreciated!
I do not give my consent for my work to be posted on other platforms or used for AI in any context.
Bucky Barnes wasn't unfamiliar with sleepless hours and restless nights.
As a matter of fact, they were a common companion by now.
Not one he necessarily liked, but he couldn't exactly do anything about it. He just pushed through the restless nights filled with nothing else but tossing and turning and the occasional slumber which never really held on long because nightmares and memories didn't give him any peace to actually rest.
Getting three hours of sleep wasn't unusual for him, but Bucky highly prided himself in being able to function well, despite whatever fatigue and exhaustion that little of sleep usually brought.
He was a super soldier, after all. Surely, it would need a little more than that to knock him off his feet, right?
During the last two weeks, Bucky had gotten even less sleep than he normally did. He was constantly on edge, his memories not giving him a break for even a second, reminders of what his life used to be seering through his brain like lighting.
It was exhausting, sure, but he figured he'd tough it out, that it was just a phase that would fade again eventually.
What he didn't expect was just how much it would really get to him, both physically and mentally. His body ached with the need to sleep, muscles so heavy it took him a great amount of strength to even get up in the morning.
It didn't help that everything around him felt too intense and dull all at once. His headache hadn't left him once during the last fourteen days and neither had the haze that was clouding his brain, the one that made it difficult to even think properly.
Bucky was used to hiding his issues, though. He'd survived worse than this, for fucks sake. A little sleep deprevation wasn't what was going to break him. He wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't let it happen. He didn't want to tell the others about it, either. The last thing he needed was anybody fussing over him like he and his sob story were something that needed pity.
And that tiredness made him desperate, which was exactly why he was currently standing in front of your room, still contemplating if he should knock or if you'd think that he was pathetic for letting a little lack of sleep get to him so much.
He should just pull himself together.
You wouldn't say that, of course. He knew that better than anyone, but that knowledge unfortunately didn't stop him from overthinking this.
A part of him, the one that got him through seventy years of torture and pain, was currently screaming at him to keep his distance, to not allow any vulnerablity.
Vulnerability meant weakness, and that always led to punishment.
That's how it used to be, at least.
But this wasn't Hydra and you weren't anything like his old handlers. In fact, you were one of the nicest people he knew. You got along with everyone, constantly filling his days with your bad jokes and stupidly beautiful smiles.
Your laugh was even worse. The sound was like music to his ears, making him feel lightheaded in a way that had nothing to do with his sleep deprivation and everything to do with you.
It was his fucking favorite sound in the world, just like you were his favorite person.
He couldn't tell you that, of course.
The two of you were friends.
And even though his feelings for you had stopped just being friendly a very long time ago, that was a fact he had to remind himself of every day. You didn't see him as any more than what the two of you were, which was very close, but still painfully platonic friends.
You had told him, though- multiple times- that whenever he needed something, you would be there. No matter how big or small, you had promised him that he could always come to you.
And right now, all he really needed was one of your hugs that never failed to make the world around him go quiet, giving his mind the kind of break it barely got anymore.
It would solve all his problems, he was sure of it.
He knew that you were still awake. With his kind of hearing, he could clearly make out the sound of your favorite show still running on the TV.
Taking one last deep breath to hype himself up, he carefully raised his hand and scraped his knuckles against the door, loud enough for you to hear, but still gentle, so he would hopefully not startle you.
For a moment he was sure that you probably didn't hear him, but then he could make out the quiet rustle of sheets and bare feet lightly padding against the floor.
The door opened and there you were, your hair a mess, a sleepy expression on your face and clothed in an old tshirt and red flannel pants.
"Buck?" A small crease formed between your eyebrows as you took him in and he winced, realising that he probably looked awful. His short hair was standing off in messy strands and his eyes were red rimmed and puffy from exhaustion. The dark bags under his eyes probably didn't help, either.
Bucky knew that you'd noticed that something was off, of course.
All week, you had watched him with those observant eyes of yours, checking in on him whenever you could.
You didn't push, though. You just let him approach you at his own pace, which he appreciated.
"What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" He hated how concerned you sounded. He didn't want to be the reason for your distress, not ever. Actually, he'd rather get shot than make you upset, but thinking about it, that might be a little contradictory.
"Everything's okay, don't worry. Just… couldn't sleep."
Admitting that he didn't come here because of something serious but solemnly because he couldn't sleep felt even pathetic out loud than it did in his head, if that was even possible.
"I can leave again, though. I know it's late and I really don't want to bother you-"
"Hey, no. None of that. You're always welcome here Buck, you know that," You interruped him gently, keeping him from backtracking before he could even properly start. He wanted to protest again, of course, wanted to apologize for coming to you with his issues this late, but you quickly ushered him inside, like you knew exactly what was going on inside him and scared that if you let him stand in the hallway for a moment longer, he'd bolt again.
Which wasn't too far off the truth, if he was being honest.
When Bucky stepped into the room, he felt the effect it had on him immediately. The smell alone was enough to soothe him, something sweet and flowery and so you his shoulders lost some of their tension immediately.
His skin tingled where you placed your hand on his arm and he was painfully aware of how close you were standing to him right now, looking up at him with the most breathtaking eyes he had ever seen.
They were bothering him right now though, because you still looked so goddamn worried. You didn't need to worry. He was fine, now that he was with you.
"I'm okay," He tried to reassure you, but he wasn't sure how convincing it sounded. "Really."
"Mhmm." The hum was noncomittal at best, your thumb rubbing soft circles over the soft fabric of his shirt.
"Please don't get me wrong, Buck, I don't mind you being here. I really don't. But it's also not common for you to show up at my door at-" You quickly glanced at the clock behind him. "One in the morning. What's actually going on?"
He hated that you were right. This wasn't normal, no matter how much he wanted it to be.
And he wanted it so, so badly.
He wanted to be in your space without having a reason to be there. He wanted your attention more than anythig else in the world and, most importantly, he wanted you.
But he couldn't say any of that, so he just shrugged, swallowing thickly. "I can't sleep. Like, at all. Haven't been able to in a couple of days."
It was more than just that and you both knew it, but he was grateful that you didn't call him out on it. "I just didn't want to be alone today, that's all."
The admission hung between you and Bucky had to suppress the urge to physically backtrack. He barely let himself be this vulnerable, too scared of what the consequences might be.
Somehow, you still always managed to reassure him that he never had to be scared with you.
"Oh, Buck." If anybody else would've said it, he most definitely would've taken it for pity. The only thing he could hear in your voice was raw and honest concern as you pulled him down, right into your arms.
He took his chance immediately, of course. Bucky couldn't help how pathetically touch starved he was when it got to you. Wrapping his arms around you as well, he couldn‘t help the hitch in his breath, his physical reaction mirroring just how crazy you were driving him right now, hugging him like that.
"Shh, it's okay. I got you," You reassured him softly as you cradled the back of his head, your hand soothingly moving up and down his back. The sensations running through his body were almost too much for him to handle, every single nerve in his body hyperaware of how close you were to him.
He didn't know how long the two of you stayed like that- time always did that whenever he was with you.
Wether it was seconds, minutes, a lifetime, he wouldn't know.
He would be content to just be with you for however long you'd have him.
A lifetime did sound pretty damn good, though.
Only when you pulled back did he come back to reality again.
You brought just enough distance between the two of you to be able to look at his face-not that you would even be able to step back completely. Bucky'd hands were fisted tightly in the fabric of your sweater and you were pretty sure that he didn't even notice he was holding onto you so tightly.
When your eyes found his, your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest again. You had barely ever seen him this vulnerable; The lines on his face seemed to be carved more deeply than they usually were, but somehow, it didn't make him look older.
Quite the opposite, actually.
It was such a raw kind of exhaustion, it almost looked boyish on him.
And even though that part of him, the one that didn't hold onto his guard as much as he usually did was something you wanted to hold onto forever, thre was also nothing more that you wanted to do than make that horrible heaviness his eyes held vanish again.
Preferably right in this goddamn second.
How about you stay here tonight, hm?" You tried to make it sound like a question more than an offer, wanting him to have the choice to decline even though all you really wanted to do was keep him here until he was feeling better again.
You didn't want him to feel preassured or trapped with you- never that. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay anyway.
"Not too sure I'll be able to sleep."
This wasn't unusual for Bucky. Wether it developed because of Hydra or even before the war you didn't know, but he always did this thing were he didn't take people up on their offers because he was too scared of not living up to their expectations.
What he didn't seem to understand was that you didn't have any expectations.
You just wanted him, no matter what that might include, or, in this case, didn't include.
You'd never sleep again if it was to keep him company.
"We don't have to." You slowly raised your hand, giving him more than enough time to pull away if he wanted to, before you gently ran your fingers through his hair, a touch he immediately leaned into.
"We can just listen to music, watch a movie, whatever you want. If you fall asleep, you fall asleep. If you don't, we'll just have a good time anyway. No preassure, alright?"
Bucky was having a hard time registering what you were saying with your nails scratching his scalp like that, but he nodded anyway. "Alright."
He had to actively stop himself from letting out a sound of protest when you removed your hand from his hair, immediately missing the feeling of it but also not willing to show you just how much you were getting to him.
When you guided him over to the bed and the two of you sat down together, backs resting against the headboard, Bucky was mindful of keeping at least a little distance between the two of you.
If it was up to him, you'd be wrapped up in his arms by now, but his ma raised him better than that. He was still a gentleman, after all. The least he could do was be respectful, especially with how kind you were being to him.
"So, what do you think. Music or a movie?" Bucky would've been fully content with you just keeping to watch your show whilst he kept you company, but he had a feeling that you wouldn‘t take that for an answer.
"A movie sounds good, if that's okay."
You smiled at his response, because you'd fully expected him to hit you with an "I don't care, you decide." or "Whatever works best for you. I'm not picky.", so the actual choice, even if he still phrased it like he was asking for permission, was definitely progress.
"Yeah, of course. Anything in particular you wanna watch?"
You were only met with a shrug. "Whatever works best for you. I ain't picky."
Well, that much about progress.
You couldn't help but chuckle at the predictability of the statement, which was just a tad too cute for you to actually be irritated by the cryptic response. "Alright then, my choice it is."
It didn't take you long to find exactly what you were looking for.
It was a black and white movie from the 50s- not old enough for Bucky to know it, but just enough for it to feel familiar.
And again, his predictable reaction was almost too cute for you to handle.
His shoulders relaxed more and more with every minute passing, chest rising and falling evenly as his eyes were glued the the screen. You were glad that he seemed to enjoy it, that he was comfortable enough in your presence to actually allow himself to be captured by it.
Before you could think better of it, because you barely ever possessed the ability to think around Bucky at all, you slowly wrapped your arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer until his head was resting against your shoulder. He went willingly and you raised your hand again, going back to running your fingers through the short strands just like you had done a few minutes ago.
A deep exhale followed almost immediately and you hat to bite your inner cheek to keep yourself from laughing. There was no way that James Buchanan Barnes, ex Winter Soldier and Seargent, was that responsive to something as simple as touch. "Comfy?"
"With you? Always." Your heart stumbled a little in your chest, feelings flaring up that you refused to acknowledge right now. Instead, you pressed a gentle kiss against his soft hair, the gesture alone saying more than any words ever could.
"Glad to hear that, Buck."
You didn't know if it was the intimacy of the situation, but something felt different between you and Bucky. It wasn't what you were feeling, exactly. No, this was how you always felt around Bucky. There was nothing new about the affection that went way beyond friendship alone.
Right now, it just felt like you were accepting it instead of pushing it away all the time. There was no careful distance anymore, no akward attempts to keep the line of being friends carefully drawn.
There was no dramatic love confession, either. Just a man who carried way too much weight on his shoulders and you, the one person he trusted enough to help him with it.
Not Sam or Steve. Not even Nat, who might understand better how he was feeling right now.
It didn’t catch you off guard because it was big or life changing, but because you didn't expect it to feel this… natural.
It felt like something finally shifted into place, somewhere it had always belonged.
Like the intimacy and closeness you were experiencing right now were how things had always been supposed to be.
About halfway through the movie, most of Bucky's weight was resting against you, his head lying fully on your chest.
His breathing had turned slow and shallow too, and you could see his eyelids drop every few seconds before he forced them open again.
"Go to sleep Bucky. You're tired."
Even though thick with sleep, his voice was still laced with stubborness. It made you chuckle a little, because he was very obviously on the brink of passing out.
For a long moment, the only answer you got was a grunt, so you figured he must've actually fallen asleep.
"Don't want this to end."
And there he went, catching you off guard once again.
"Nothing's ending, Buck. I'm not going anywhere."
Now he tilted his head a little, angling it so he could properly meet your eyes. "Still, it'd be different when I wake up."
He wasn't sure what exactly possesed him to actually say this, but he couldn't help himself. Maybe it was proximity between the two of you, because usually, these would be things he'd take to his grave.
"We'd be back to pretending again, sweetheart. And Im not sure if I could handle that. I don't want to pretend anymore. I don't wanna act like I don't feel this way about you, because I do. So much it actually hurts sometimes." Bucky's eyes didn't leave yours for a second and he figured that if he already started, he might as well go all in now. "I don't want this to end. As a matter of fact, I'd never sleep again if it meant that I'd get to keep you like this forever. And I think the sleep deprevation is really getting to me right now because I would never actually say it like this, but I'm tired. And not only the sleepy kind of tired, but tired of pretending like my feelings aren't real. Like this is what friends just do- because it isn't, is it?
Your heart was racing so quickly behind your ribcage now, you could hear it pounding in your ears. There was no way this was actually happening right now.
He was right. This wasn't what friends did and you couldn't be more relieved that you apparently weren't the only one feeling like this.
"And call me crazy, but I feel like this hasn't been friendly for a very long time now."
Bucky's words were slightly slurred because of how tired he was, his accent thicker than what you were used to.
"This ain't up fo me to decide though, darlin'. The only thing I can tell you is that I know what I want and it's sure as hell not being your friend. I wanna be yours, the only question is if you want that, too."
For a five very long seconds, neither of you said anything.
Bucky was just about to pull back, to put some distance between you because he realised that this might've been the entirely wrong situation to confess feelings like that. He was sure that he must've said too much, because that was about the biggest hard launch he could've gone for.
That much about wanting to be gentle.
What Bucky didn't understand was that you weren't not saying anything because you didn't want him like that, but because you were so overwhelmed with your emotions, talking seemed impossible right now.
So instead of giving him the rejection he was already bracing for, you did the best thing you could think of and reached for his face, carefully cradling his cheek as you leaned down just close enough to push your lips against his.
It was barely even a kiss, but Bucky still felt like his whole universe rearranged itself and now circled around that moment alone. Fuck the sun and any other planet that might be important for the solar system to work. Why the hell would he need that if he had you?
"Does that answer your question?"
You still hadn't pulled back and your lips were moving against his with every word you spoke, which was driving him absolutely insane.
He was the one to lean in now, more than ready to give you a proper kiss instead of responding.
This one wasn't soft or careful like the first one had been. No, this kiss was desperate and hungry and everything the fog in his brain allowed him to feel right now. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers curling in his hair tightly, causing heat to coil low in his stomach.
Just as he was about to pull you on top of him, very eager to keep going despite nearly falling asleep a few minutes ago, you pulled back again.
This time, he couldn't help the embarrasingly desperate sound that escaped his mouth.
He could feel heat creeping up his neck, but you only smiled.
"As much as I want to," You murmured and pressed a soft kiss against his forehead, one he greedily leaned into, fucking on seeming needy now, because he was.
And he was also pretty sure that you‘d noticed too by now.
"You need rest, my love. You're running on fumes."
He was feeling dizzy again, butt he was almost completely sure that it was because of the petname now, not because of the exhaustion.
Damnit, what the hell were you doing with him?"
"This isn't a dream, right? This is real? I'm not going crazy, am I?"
Again, he might sound pathetic, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted this so badly, he couldn‘t even stand the thought of not having you, especially now that he got a taste and knew exactly it could look like.
"Not a dream," You confirmed, smile widening as you pressed another kiss to his face. "This is very real, I promise."
He still wanted to pull you down on top of him and kiss you senseless until neither of you could breathe anymore, but you were being reasonable. He did need sleep, wether he wanted to admit it or not.
He decided to do the next best thing and still pulled you into his arms, just without the kissing part. Bucky embraced you tightly, almost like he still didn't believe that any of this was actually happening.
If he was being honest, he didn't. Maybe he had died from all the goddamn exhaustion and somehow ended up in heaven. Even though he wasn't sure how that would be more realistic than this happening in real life, it seemed to be the most reasonable conclusion to come to.
Your head was resting on his chest just like his had when you were watching the movie, arms loosely wrapped around his torso.
He let himself enjoy the view just a moment longer, eyes on your beautiful face as you smiled up at him.
In that moment, Bucky came to the conclusion of exactly three things.
First, you were the most breathtaking sight he had ever laid his eyes on in his whole life.
Second, he would go through every single second of his 109 years of living if it meant that this was where he would end up.
And third, it might actually not hurt to close his eyes for a bit.
For the first time since way before the war, Bucky Barnes managed to sleep through the whole night without nightmares, pain or gunfire interrupting his sleep.
And it was all because of you.
