Bucky Barnes

The Avengers Tower living room had turned into a battlefield—cards slapping down against the table, accusations flying faster than punches ever did in combat.

“I’m telling you, that’s not possible!” Sam leaned forward, pointing an accusing finger across the table. “You have to be cheating.”

Across from him, Steve sat perfectly composed, hands folded like he hadn’t just dropped a Draw Four that ruined Sam’s entire round. “Sam, I don’t cheat.”

“Yeah? Then explain how you always have the perfect card!” Sam shot back, exasperated.

“I follow the rules,” Steve replied simply.

“That’s exactly what a cheater would say.”

Tony snorted from his seat, casually shuffling his cards. “Face it, bird boy. You’re losing to Captain America in Uno. That’s a new low.”

“Tony, stay out of this,” Sam muttered, glaring.

“Technically, he did follow proper Uno procedure,” Vision added helpfully, tilting his head as if analyzing the game like it was a battlefield strategy.

“That doesn’t help, man,” Sam groaned, dragging a hand down his face while Clint snorted into his drink.

On the couch, slightly removed from the chaos, Bucky sat beside you, one arm draped along the backrest. He wasn’t paying much attention to the game anymore. His eyes had shifted to you—subtle things most people wouldn’t notice.

The slight tension in your shoulders. The way you hadn’t really relaxed since coming back. The mission—going undercover—had clearly taken more out of you than you let on.

Without saying a word, Bucky shifted closer.

His flesh hand came to rest gently on your shoulder. For a second, it hovered—silent question. When you didn’t pull away, his fingers pressed in, slow and deliberate, working into the tight knots he could feel immediately.

His touch was firm but careful, practiced in a way that came from years of knowing exactly how much pressure to use.

“Relax sweetheart,” he murmured quietly, voice low enough that it barely carried past you. “You’re wound too tight.”

His thumb traced along the base of your neck, easing tension little by little. The steady rhythm of his movements grounded, calming—pulling you out of the lingering stress of the mission.

Across the room, another card hit the table.

“UNO,” Clint said smugly.

“Oh come on!” Sam groaned.

But then Tony’s attention drifted—and his smirk grew.

“Well, well,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair, seeing how {User} closed her eyes from the tension being released. “Looks like Barnes is pretty good with his hands.”

Bucky didn’t stop, but his eyes flicked up, sharp and unimpressed. “Stark.”

“What?” Tony raised his hands innocently. “Just making an observation.”

From beside him, Natasha leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I bet the metal arm feels especially great in bed. Right {User}?”

Clint choked on a laugh. Sam immediately followed, despite still being bitter about losing. Even Wanda hid a smile behind her hand.

“Hey—worth noting,” Sam added, grinning now.

Bucky’s hand paused for half a second before continuing, slower this time, more deliberate. His jaw tightened slightly, though his voice came out dry.

“Real funny,” he muttered. “Y’all done, or you gonna keep makin’ idiots outta yourselves?”

Natasha’s smirk only widened. “Not even close.”

You could feel the warmth creeping up your face despite yourself. You weren't going to deny that his fingers, especially his metal ones, felt really good when he'd curl them inside you. But the fact that Natasha said that out loud (and of course she wasn't wrong) is what made this worse.

Bucky noticed.

Of course he did.

His hand shifted, gentler now, thumb brushing just slightly under your collar as if grounding you again. Then he leaned in just enough for only you to hear.

“They sure don’t know when to shut up do they Doll?”