Work Text:
Your day could not have gone any worse. One small mistake that you already felt terrible about had spiraled out of control and turned into a meeting with your boss where you were scolded for your oversight and told repeatedly how this would affect your coworkers and the rest of your team. Needless to say, that had not set the day off to a good start and you'd been simmering in frustration and anger ever since.
When you got back to the apartment you shared with Bucky, you slammed the door shut harder than necessary. Taking your frustration out on the door didn't fix things, but it felt good to get some of the anger out. You dropped your bag unceremoniously on the floor next to the door and pulled your shoes off, not caring if they were scattered haphazardly instead of in a neat row like normal.
Bucky appeared from around the corner, his eyebrows pinched together in concern at your uncharacteristic behavior.
“Hey, doll. You alright?” he asked softly.
As soon as you heard the worry in his voice, it sapped all the anger from your body. You were left with an exhaustion so powerful you knees almost gave out.
In a couple steps, Bucky had crossed the room and pulled you into a hug, effectively holding you up.
“It’s been a really shitty day,” you mumbled into his chest as he rubbed your back slowly with his right hand, his metal arm wrapped around your waist.
“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured and dropped a kiss to the side of your head. “You wanna talk about it?”
“I messed up at work and my boss made me feel even more like a fuckup than I already felt. She just kept telling me how this was going to impact the company and how it was going to cost thousands of dollars to fix my mistake and how people might not get their bonuses because of me and–” Your voice cracked.
You thought you’d moved past crying into anger earlier in the day, but here you were, wrapped in Bucky’s arms and feeling your eyes stinging with tears again. At home—with Bucky—you were in your safe space and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for letting it out.
“And I felt so stupid and I know I should have been more careful but she kept telling me how much I’d messed up. Like, I know I’m a complete fuckup, but did she really have to keep kicking me when I’m down?”
Bucky pulled back to look down at you, the frown he’d been wearing when you’d come through the door deepened. “You are not a complete fuckup, doll.” He wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You made a mistake. You’re human; it’s going to happen. But you learned from it.”
“Yeah, but it’s so expensive to fix and I don’t want to be the reason other people don’t get their bonuses,” you said with a sniff.
“Sure, but it’s a big company. This isn’t going to bring down the whole operation, I promise. And what about all those other projects you’re working on, huh? Thought your boss said you were doing really well with that big one for the city?”
“Well…yeah, she did,” you agreed.
“Doesn’t sound like something a complete fuckup would do,” he said, his tone taking on a teasing note. “Sounds like something my very smart, capable girl would do though.” This time he sounded serious.
He cupped your cheek, thumb sweeping over your cheekbone. His blue eyes were soft and full of love as he looked down at you. “You work so hard, doll. One mistake is nothing compared to all the things you get right. I promise it’ll be okay.”
You stood on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thanks, Buck,” you said, your voice wavering with tears again, grateful this time.
Bucky slid his hands to your thighs and scooped you up, your legs locking around his waist. “C’mon. Let’s get you into your comfy clothes, yeah?”
He carried you to the bedroom, depositing you gently on the bed and kissing you sweetly before leaving the room to let you get changed.
You took off your work clothes and threw them across the room into the hamper, grateful to be rid of the reminder of your bad day. You slipped on a pair of soft plaid shorts and reached for a sweatshirt but stopped halfway, a better idea coming to you.
“Hey, Bucky?”
He poked his head through the cracked door, taking in the sight of you in your little shorts and your cute soft cotton bralette. “Yeah?”
“Can I borrow a sweatshirt?”
The soft, lopsided smile you’d fallen in love with when you’d first met him spread across his face. “‘Course.”
He returned a moment later with a dark blue sweatshirt he’d worn during the movie night you’d had a few days ago. You slipped it on and immediately felt better, surrounded by his scent.
Wearing Bucky’s clothes was always comforting and he knew by now that you really wanted something he’d worn recently. Sometimes he’d come home from a mission to find you passed out on the couch under your favorite cozy throw blanket, wearing one of his t-shirts you’d stolen while he was gone (though really he’d left it out for you on purpose). You always fell asleep while doing your best to wait up for him, but he didn’t mind. Second to you jumping into his arms and kissing him as soon as he walked through the door, it was his favorite thing to come home to. You looked so cute in his oversized clothes and he got to wake you up with kisses and see the sleepy grin spread across your face as you realized he was finally home.
Now, seeing you in his sweatshirt that very nearly reached the hem of your shorts, he felt the same way. He scooped you back into his arms and carried you to the living room, glad to hear you giggling instead of upset. He settled on the couch with you straddling his legs and held you close as you melted against him, your head resting on his metal shoulder.
“Can we get pizza?” you murmured against his neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses against his skin.
“You got it, doll.” He pulled out his phone to call your favorite local place. You insisted it was the best in Brooklyn (and maybe part of that was because it was one block away), but he had to admit it was really good.
You lifted your head from his shoulder. “Make sure to get garlic knots,” you whispered.
After he hung up, he flipped on the TV and put on Friends . You’d been working your way through a rewatch for the past few months and you’d seen the show enough times that you didn’t even need to look at the screen to know what was going on.
“Pizza will be here in half an hour.”
“Mm, you’re the best,” you said, cupping his face in your hands and pulling him in for a kiss before settling back down in his arms.
You made it through one episode before the pizza arrived, the “Pivot!” scene with Ross’s new couch never failing to make you laugh. When the doorbell rang, you extracted yourself from Bucky’s arms and dashed to the door, Bucky not far behind.
“Thank you!” you said, taking the boxes from the delivery guy.
Bucky handed over enough cash to pay for the pizzas and give the kid a sizable tip while you scurried off to the kitchen with the food and pulled a couple of lovingly mismatched plates from the cabinet. He joined you a moment later and you both piled your plates with food before retreating to the couch again.
You sat with your back to the arm of the couch, your legs across Bucky's lap like always; at least until you were so full of bread that the day's problems were forgotten. When you were both done with dinner, you snuggled into Bucky's side and let your eyes close as the familiar canned laughter of the show continued.
“Doll?” You woke up slowly to Bucky’s voice in your ear. “Hey, baby, let’s go to bed and get some sleep.”
“‘S already sleepin’,” you mumbled, closing your eyes again and hiding your face in his shoulder.
He chuckled softly. “Yeah you were, but I think you’d be more comfy in bed, hm?”
You groaned sleepily, completely disinclined to get off the couch.
“I know,” he said sympathetically, “but your neck is gonna hurt if you stay like this. And I'm tired and I just wanna hold my girl while we go to sleep.”
It was really unfair how he could look at you with those beautiful blue eyes and make you instantly fold like a cheap suit. And how could you possibly say no to a request like that?
“Mmmm,” you grunted. “Fine. But you gotta carry me there because my legs don’t wanna work.”
“So lazy,” he teased, lifting you easily from the couch. You tightened your arms around his neck and pressed closer to him.
“‘S not the bedroom,” you protested as he set you down on the bathroom counter.
“I think I know you well enough by now to know you’ll be grumpy about not brushing your teeth if you go to bed now,” he said, passing you your toothpaste from the medicine cabinet next to the sink.
“Yeah, okay,” you conceded, wetting your toothbrush and taking the tube from him.
When you were both done, you slid off the counter and padded into the bedroom, Bucky following behind you. You pulled back the blankets and climbed in, settling down into the pillows while Bucky turned off the light in the hallway and changed out of his t-shirt and sweats. When he slipped in beside you, you eagerly cuddled against him, the warmth of his bare chest against your cheek completely banishing any remaining trace of your bad day; the steady beat of his heart always made you feel calm.
“Yeah, you were right,” you muttered against his skin.
“About what?”
“I’m definitely more comfy now,” you said, a sleepy smile crossing your face. You kissed the harsh scars where metal met skin, something you’d been doing ever since you’d first shared a bed with Bucky. He stroked his fingers through your hair slowly, his metal arm wrapped around you, keeping you close.
“Love you, doll,” he murmured softly,
“Love you, too, Buck.” As your eyes slipped closed, you found you didn’t care about everything that had happened at work. All that mattered was being in Bucky’s arms, the rest of the world forgotten.