⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
Acts of love never had to be something overstated or complicated — it lay in smaller actions. An offer to make lunch or a warm cup of drink; to do a chore or errand that the other dreaded, only to see their eyes brighten for thoughtfulness.
Bucky was much the same man as those who preferred smaller, intentional acts, and you presented him with the perfect opportunity.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
☘︎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕
☘︎ 1.0k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔
☘︎ Tooth rotting fluff
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆
☘︎ One of my more intentional attempts to write from solely Bucky's POV.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎
☘︎ Atlas Hands by Benjamin Francis Leftwich
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔
☘︎ @sweetspicybingo's Winter Addition — Warm Blanket
— Masterlist
☘︎ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Love You
— Masterlist
☘︎ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗚𝟯 — Partners in Crime
— Masterlist
𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
The phone call from Lee and consequent hours in town had taken up a considerable amount of time, and if Bucky was honest with himself, he truly wished he wasn’t known for his reliability or accountability — not on the days where he wanted to stay home with you, cuddled beneath a mountain of blankets so he could hold you close.
The only consolation for his absence was that it was still early — an early rise to beat the morning sun and a call for help couldn’t keep him from you, that he was damned sure of.
“Fuck,” Bucky grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward of an impending headache. The cabin he shared with you came into view while the tires of his truck crunched over the thick, ladened snow that lined the driveway. He shut the radio off with a sigh, then turned the wheel with a firm hand.
His truck rumbled to a halt out the front of the cabin, under the shelter that housed both yours and his vehicle, and he killed the engine.
Relief relaxed the weary set of his shoulders for the silence that echoed around the clearing.
Bucky looked up from the dash to the darkened windows of the cabin, and his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the–” The driver’s door creaked from the cold as it swung open, then his boots hit the ground with a solid thump.
His eyes were fixed on the cabin where the windows were dark — by all intents and purposes, he knew you were one to treasure your sleep, but to still be in bed at the current hour was unusual.
Not even a stir came from the home; the dogs eerily silent when they would normally be bounding over to greet him home, or at least, waging war against the solid wood of the front door.
“Clover?” Bucky called — silence returned his summons. The soles of his boots crunched over the snow, intent on only finding where you had gotten to. “Clover? Sarge, Koda–?”
The front door swung open, a blast of cool air following his entry and it shut behind him, but he was too busy searching for any sign of you to care much for it. “Bunny, where are you, sweetheart?” he whispered harshly, just in case you were asleep.
Bucky walked inwards, taking in how your boots and shoes still lined the rack by the door; how your coat, your favourite, fluffy one that he got you seasons ago, hung on the rack, untouched. “Baby?”
There was a small huff of a sigh from the living room around the entryway, and he made his way over quickly, only he froze at what he found.
The breath in his lungs hitched with the rapid swell of his heart, and a soft smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he took in the sight. On the couch, where he would normally find you delved so far deep into a book you could not be distracted, or determinedly focused on your phone (and damned Pinterest), you lay sideways on the plush couch cushions, fast asleep.
Your side rose and fell slowly and evenly with your breath.
At your feet, Sarge curled his body around the fluffy fabric of your socks and up the back of your legs; the long fur of his belly and sides brushing against your legs. His head peered up and over your thigh. A long, pink tongue lolled out in greeting.
“Hey, boy,” Bucky greeted quietly, still standing by the doorway. “You keepin’ my girl warm?” The answering huff made him chuckle quietly.
There was a small whine from who Bucky knew was Sarge’s partner in crime.
Koda was cuddled beneath you — her long body propped your head up like a pillow, and your hand loosely rested against her shoulder.
Dark, softened eyes met his, and his heart thumped against his ribs; there was no immunity against the softness and love in Koda’s eyes, no matter how many times she gazed at either of you.
“Girl,” Bucky cooed, and he walked quietly over to offer his hand for a sniff. At your back, Bucky watched Koda’s tail twitch. “Ah, ah, don’t wake her up now,” he whispered, scratching under Koda’s chin. “Stay there, baby.”
It was thanks to you that the cabin was full of plush materials for all purposes, Bucky supposed, as he looked around the room for your favourite — a forest green and sage plush, plaid blanket with an impossibly soft underside that was folded over the back of the couch, right within reach.
Carefully, Bucky leaned over and lifted it off of the back of the cushions, all while watching you for any sign of you stirring awake.
“Here we go,” he murmured, shaking the blanket out and positioning it so it was snug against your body — the fabric settling like a cloud, and Bucky tucked you in, sure to leave Sarge’s head free. “All snug, baby girl.”
“Mm…”
Koda’s ears twitched at your mumbled noise, but Bucky hushed her with a scratch to the chin. “Why don’t we…”
It took all of his effort to bite back the grunt of effort, but he eventually settled on the floor, legs stretched outwards under the coffee table and his back against the sofa. If you were to wake, you would immediately see his profile. “Why don’t we read, huh?”
Your book was haphazardly left on the coffee table next to a worn coffee mug of browns and greens, and it made Bucky smile as he reached it. Each page fluttered under his grip.
The spine of it fit in one of his hands easily, and he used the other to flip the first page, careful to keep your hastily placed bookmark in place.
“What’s she been up to, girl?” Bucky asked, glancing up to the deep brown eyes that watched him with interest.
Koda’s muzzle moved to rest atop her paws, and her eyes drifted close in reply.
A small laugh rumbled through his chest, and he settled in, content to see what your new favourite book was about while you dozed the morning away.
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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