obsessed and in love
pairing: beefy!bucky barnes x reader | 5.6k words
warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, overstimulation, possessive/jealous bucky, public-ish kink (everyone can hear you), dirty talk, soft confession,, fwb/undefined relationship, tiniest bit of exhibitionism
summary: a year on the run turns you and bucky into undefined, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other lovers—until a new recruit flirts with you back at the tower, and bucky proves exactly who you belong to by fucking you loud enough for everyone to hear… then admits he’s obsessed and in love with you.
authors note: my contribution to the dear darling reader valentines event hosted by @salty-tang. this fic is also dedicated to my near and dear love @buckybsdoll. blue, i was giggling and kicking my feet like a 7 year old when i saw i had you. i hope you enjoy this fic bc i had the time of my life writing it. beefy bucky has our soul and our pussy event masterpost
--------
You learn a lot about a man when you’re on the run with him.
You learn how he moves when he’s tired, how his shoulders tense when he hears a sound that doesn’t belong, how he grips a gun and your hand with the same deadly protectiveness.
And you learn exactly how he sounds when he’s buried between your thighs, growling your name into your skin like a prayer.
Right now, the last one is the only thing you can think about.
The shitty safe house mattress creaked beneath you, springs protesting with every little shift of your hips. The only light in the room came from the crack under the door and the neon sign outside the grimy window, painting everything in dull red.
Bucky was on his knees at the edge of the bed, shoulders and arms looking even bigger in the thin slats of light, dark hair mussed, stubble rough against the inside of your thighs. His hands were wrapped around your hips, dragging you back to his mouth every time you tried to wriggle away, muscles in his forearms flexing under your grip.
“Bucky—” you gasped, voice already ragged, “I– I can’t—”
“You can,” he rasped, lips slick, breath hot where it fanned over your swollen clit. “You always do, doll. Give me one more.”
You’d already come twice on his tongue, thighs trembling, knees nearly giving out despite the fact that you were lying down. He’d pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you like he was born to do it, unrelenting, hungry.
He always got like this after a mission. After a narrow escape, after adrenaline still burned in his veins and he needed something—someone—to ground him.
You.
His girl.
Even if neither of you ever said it out loud.
He flattened his tongue and dragged it from your entrance up to your clit, slow and obscene, like he had all the time in the damn world and no one was hunting you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.
“F–fuck, Bucky,” you cried, back arching, your heels digging into his broad back. “Oh my god.”
He groaned against you, like the sound of you coming apart was his favorite thing he’d ever heard, like tasting you was better than breathing. He slid his metal hand up, cool fingers pressing on your lower belly.
“Feel that?” he murmured, eyes flickering up to meet yours, pupils blown wide and wild. “Feel how deep I was inside you earlier? You’re still so full of me, doll. So fuckin’ perfect.”
Heat coiled again in your gut, sharp and sudden. “You’re insane.”
He smirked, all cocky edges and soft eyes. “For you? Yeah. Open for me.”
He didn’t wait for more than the slightest parting of your thighs, dipping two fingers into you, the slide easy from how wet you were. You whimpered at the stretch, at the way he curled them just right, brushing that spot inside that made your vision go white.
“Bucky,” you choked, “please, I—”
He shushed you gently, like you weren’t shaking, like he wasn’t fucking you on his fingers with his mouth still latched around your clit.
“Let go, sweetheart. Give it to me,” he muttered, voice rough. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’m not lettin’ anything touch you but me.”
His words hit something deep and tender, something that had nothing to do with the way his tongue flicked against you and everything to do with the way he’d thrown himself between you and bullets earlier like your life meant more than his.
You broke, again, with a strangled cry, his name ripped from your throat. Your body seized, inner walls clamping down around his fingers, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming. He groaned low, like he could feel every flutter, like your orgasm flooded his own veins.
“Good girl,” he breathed against you as you rode it out, hips jerking helplessly. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.”
He didn’t stop until you were whimpering, the overstimulation making your legs twitch. Only then did he press a soft, almost reverent kiss to your clit and pull back, resting his forehead against your thigh, chest heaving.
You stared down at him, flushed and wrecked, hair sticking to your damp forehead.
“You’re a menace,” you panted.
He grinned up at you, stupidly handsome even with your slick on his chin. “And you love me for it.”
The words hung in the air between you, heavier than gunfire.
You swallowed, heart thudding, fingers still tangled in his hair. “We should sleep. We move at sunrise.”
He watched you for a long moment, like he wanted to call the words back, or say them again, louder. Instead, he climbed up the bed, hauling you into his chest, wrapping himself around you like a shield.
“Yeah,” he muttered into your hair. “Sunrise.”
He didn’t say anything else, didn’t push. You didn’t ask.
That was how it always was.
On the run, you were everything to each other. In the quiet, afterward, you were…whatever this was. Undefined. Tension and tenderness and sex that could bring you to your knees.
You fell asleep to the heavy beat of his heart under your ear and the steady rise and fall of his chest, pretending you didn’t know exactly what you wanted it to be.
Getting pardoned, getting cleared, getting brought in from the cold—it all happened faster than you’d expected.
One week, you and Bucky were sharing shitty safe houses and stolen showers; the next, you were back at the compound, official, legal, with actual beds and an actual roof that wasn’t leaking over your heads.
You’d thought maybe the shift back to normalcy would change things.
It didn’t.
Not really.
You still found yourself in his bed more nights than not, his big body caging you in, his lips tracing your spine while he drifted off. You still had quick, breathless hookups in empty training rooms, your back pressed to the cool mirrors while he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his groans.
But in the daylight, in front of the team, nothing was ever said.
You were “The Package Deal” in mission briefings, “Conveniently Together” in the kitchen when you both reached for the same mug. Nat would raise an eyebrow at the hickey peeking out from your collar; Sam would smirk when Bucky unconsciously reached for you in crowded hallways. Steve had given Bucky a look once—soft, knowing, like he could see straight through both of you.
No one said anything.
Neither did you.
If you didn’t say it out loud, it couldn’t be taken away. That was the unspoken truce you and Bucky seemed to cling to.
Which was why, when the new recruit started hitting on you, it caught you completely off guard.
You’d only met him a couple days ago. Fresh out of SHIELD training, all bright eyes and too-big ego, eager to impress. He was cute, in that boyish, cocky way—brown hair, quick smile, shoulders broad enough to fill out his tac vest. Nothing compared to the walking wall of muscle that was Bucky Barnes, but still.
You were in the common room, curled up on one of the couches with a tablet, scrolling through mission reports. Bucky was on the opposite couch, long legs stretched out, socked feet on the coffee table, flipping through channels with half his attention, the other half—if the way his gaze kept flickering over to you was any indication—firmly on you.
You felt him watching and ignored it, biting back a smile.
“Hey.”
You looked up at the voice.
The recruit—Alec, you remembered—was standing a few feet away, fidgeting with a protein shaker bottle. He flashed you a charming smile, the kind that probably worked on a lot of people.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the empty spot beside you.
You glanced at Bucky quickly, something tight flickering in your chest when you saw his jaw clench. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look directly at you, but the remote in his hand suddenly looked dangerously close to snapping in half.
You swallowed a laugh. “Sure,” you said, shifting your legs to give Alec room. “Go ahead.”
He plopped down, a little closer than strictly necessary, his thigh brushing yours. You shifted slightly, not really wanting to send the wrong message, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ve been meaning to thank you,” he said, leaning in a bit, lowering his voice like he was letting you in on a secret. “For the training last week. You didn’t have to go that hard on the mats to make a point, you know.”
You smirked. “You kept dropping your guard. I thought you liked getting your ass handed to you.”
He laughed, cheeks faintly pink. “Not usually. But I’ll make an exception for you.”
Across the room, the TV flicked through three channels in rapid succession before landing on some nature documentary. Bucky still hadn’t turned fully toward you, but you could feel the icy weight of his attention now, focused and sharp.
“You’re, uh, you’re really good,” Alec went on. “In the field too. I saw your file. You were on the run with Barnes for almost a year, right? That’s pretty badass.”
You shrugged. “We got lucky. A lot.”
“Still,” he said, eyes trailing over your face, lingering on your mouth. “Luck or not, you’re impressive.”
You snorted lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Compliments weren’t exactly new. Bucky could talk you into blushing with a single sentence when he wanted to. But something about this felt…off. Not dangerous, exactly. Just unfamiliar.
“Thanks,” you said, polite, trying to angle your body subtly away. “You’re not bad yourself. For a rookie.”
He grinned, clearly taking that as flirting. “Maybe you could… show me a few more moves? Outside of the gym.” His voice dropped suggestively. “I learn better one-on-one.”
The remote in Bucky’s hand hit the table with a loud thunk.
Alec jolted slightly, glancing over. You followed his gaze.
Bucky was already on his feet, movements unhurried but radiating intensity. He crossed the space between the couches with that lethal, predatory grace, broad shoulders filling your vision as he stopped in front of you.
“Up,” he said, voice low and roughened at the edges, like he’d been grinding his teeth.
Your brows rose. “Excuse me?”
“Up,” he repeated, blue eyes locked on yours, something wild simmering under the surface. “We’re done here.”
“Uh—” Alec started, confused. “Sergeant Barnes, we were just—”
Bucky’s gaze slid to him, and you watched the poor guy shrink a little in his seat. “I know exactly what you were just,” Bucky said coolly. “And unless you’ve suddenly developed a death wish, you’re going to stop.”
Heat flared under your skin, irritation warring with arousal. “Bucky, what the hell?”
He looked back at you, jaw tight. “We are not doin’ this dance with some punk kid who doesn’t know when to keep his eyes to himself. Get up, sweetheart.”
The pet name, the gravel in his voice, the possessive edge—it all hit you at once. Your pulse kicked up, a fresh wave of heat rolling through you that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
Still, your pride bristled. “You don’t get to order me around just because someone talked to me,” you said, chin lifting. “You haven’t exactly—”
He leaned down, bringing his mouth close to your ear. “If you keep arguing with me, I’m gonna fuck you right here,” he murmured, voice barely audible, “and then everyone is gonna see what’s mine, not just hear it.”
Your breath stuttered, a sharp rush of arousal clenching low in your belly.
You shot Alec an apologetic half-smile as you stood. “We’ll, uh, talk later.”
He nodded, eyes wide, clearly not sure what the hell just happened.
Bucky’s metal hand settled at the small of your back, firm and unyielding as he steered you toward the hallway. His touch burned through your shirt, all that contained force and fury directed solely at getting you alone.
“This is insane,” you muttered as he practically marched you into the elevator.
“Says the woman who let me fuck her behind a collapsing barn while a Hydra team was five minutes out,” he shot back, hitting the button for your floor. “Now you’re worried about insane?”
You glared up at him, though it was weaker than you’d like. “You can’t just drag me off every time someone looks at me.”
He crowded you against the elevator wall, one hand braced above your head, the other curving around your hip, fingers digging in possessively. He was so close you could feel the heat of him, the solid wall of his chest against yours.
“He wasn’t just looking at you,” Bucky bit out. “He was fuckin’ undressing you with his eyes and asking you for one-on-one ‘lessons’ like he stood a chance.”
“You don’t know that’s what he meant,” you argued, even though, yeah, that was exactly what Alec had meant.
He raised a brow. “You believe that or you just feel like arguing because you like it when I get like this?”
The smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth told you he already knew the answer.
Your cheeks heated. “You’re an ass.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, eyes raking over your face. “But I’m your ass.”
The elevator dinged, doors sliding open.
You didn’t get another word in before he scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You squealed, smacking his back.
“Bucky!”
“Anyone looks,” he said, striding down the hall with infuriating confidence, “they’ll see you belong with me.”
Your heart tripped over itself at that word—belong—but before you could unpack it, he was shouldering into your room, kicking the door shut behind him with a solid thud.
He deposited you on the bed, and you bounced, breathless, hair mussed. You glared half-heartedly as he loomed over you.
“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, even as your thighs pressed together.
He stared down at you, chest heaving, hands flexing at his sides. “You think I don’t see the way people look at you?” he demanded. “Like they’re trying to figure out how fast they can get in your pants?”
“Like how you looked at me?” you shot back. “When we were on the run?”
His jaw clenched. “I never hid how much I wanted you.”
“No,” you said quietly. “You just never called it anything.”
That made him falter. Just for a second. Just long enough for you to see the flicker of guilt and fear beneath the anger.
He swallowed, throat working. “You wanna call it something?” he asked roughly. “Because I can fuckin’ do that.”
Your breath caught. “Bucky—”
“You’re mine,” he said, voice dropping, blue eyes blazing. “You’ve been mine since the first night you let me touch you, since the first time you let me put my tongue between your thighs and make you scream. I’ve been obsessed with you since long before that idiot recruit knew your name.”
Heat flooded you, sharp and dizzying. “You can’t just say that because you’re jealous,” you whispered, though your body was already arching toward him.
“This isn’t about jealousy,” he growled. “This is about the fact that I nearly lost you a hundred times and I’m not riskin’ someone else thinking they get a shot with you because I was too chickenshit to open my mouth.”
He reached for you suddenly, dragging you down the bed until your ass was at the edge, your legs dangling over the side. You gasped as he roughly tugged your leggings and panties down in one smooth motion, the cool air of the room hitting your already damp skin.
“Bucky—”
“Shut up,” he muttered, dropping to his knees.
Your protest died on your tongue when he shoved your thighs apart, his broad shoulders wedging them open. He stared at you like a starving man presented with a feast, chest rising and falling quickly.
“Christ,” he breathed. “Look at this. Look at what that kid thought he had a chance at.”
You squirmed. “He wasn’t—”
“You’re drenched,” Bucky cut in, running two fingers through your slick, spreading it, watching the way you clenched around nothing. “Been like this since before I grabbed you off that couch?”
You glared weakly. “Maybe.”
He huffed a dark laugh. “Knew it.” He dragged his fingers up, circling your clit once, teasing, then pulling his hand back, making you whine. “I want you loud,” he said. “You hear me?”
Your heart stuttered. “What?”
“I want this whole compound to know exactly what I do to you,” he said, voice low and intent. “You’re gonna scream my name so fuckin’ loud there won’t be a single person here left wondering who you belong to.”
Your pussy clenched hard at that, arousal flooding you so fast you felt lightheaded. “Bucky—”
He didn’t give you a chance to argue.
He leaned in and devoured you.
There was nothing gentle about it. No slow build, no testing the waters. He latched onto your clit and sucked, hard, tongue flicking rapid and ruthless against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You shouted, the sound punching out of you before you could catch it, echoing off the walls.
“That’s it,” he groaned against you, the vibrations making you jolt. “That’s my girl.”
His hands gripped your hips, dragging you closer, practically bending you in half so your knees were thrown over his broad shoulders. Your fingers flew to his hair, tugging tight, trying to anchor yourself to something as lava-hot pleasure shot through you.
“Fuck, Bucky, oh my—” you gasped, back bowing off the bed.
He hummed, switching tactics, laving broad, slow strokes up and down your slit before circling your clit again, teasing, relentless. Then he slid two fingers into you without warning, the stretch making you gasp, the fullness immediate and overwhelming as he set a bruising pace.
“So tight,” he muttered, pulling back just enough for you to see his slick, swollen mouth. “Always so fuckin’ tight for me.”
You couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. His fingers curled, finding that spot inside you effortlessly, stroking it again and again while his mouth worked your clit. Sparks danced behind your eyes.
“Bucky, please,” you choked out. “I—I’m gonna—”
“Good,” he growled. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Let them all hear how good I take care of you.”
It hit you like a freight train. Your orgasm crashed over you, intense and all-consuming, ripping a hoarse scream from your throat. Your thighs trembled violently around his head, your entire body tensing, then shuddering as pleasure tore through you.
Bucky groaned, fingers and tongue unrelenting, milking every last aftershock from you. The sound you made then was almost a sob, half-pleasure, half-overwhelmed.
“Too much,” you whimpered, hips jerking away.
“Uh-uh,” he said, pulling his fingers out only to replace them with his tongue, thrusting into you, his nose bumping your overstimulated clit. “You can do another one for me.”
You almost sobbed. “Bucky—”
He pulled back just enough to look up at you, chin and lips shining, eyes dark and wild. “You safe?”
You nodded, breath hitching. “Y-yeah.”
“Color?” he pressed, thumb stroking soothing circles into the inside of your thigh even as his gaze burned into you.
“Green,” you whispered, shivering. “So fucking green.”
His lips curved in a wicked smile. “That’s my brave girl.”
Then he was on you again, mouth greedy, tongue working you with single-minded determination. He slid his metal hand up, palm pressing against your lower belly, adding a delicious pressure from the inside and out as he fucked you with his mouth.
You didn’t stand a chance.
You came again in seconds, clenching around his tongue, a loud, broken sound spilling from you. This time, you heard it echo, heard how it carried in the quiet of the hallway outside your room.
Bucky groaned like the sound alone could get him off, like your pleasure was his oxygen. He didn’t even pause, licking you through it, letting you ride his face, his nose nudging your clit just enough to send little aftershocks zipping up your spine.
“I c-can’t,” you babbled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity. “Bucky, I can’t—”
“You’re okay,” he murmured, voice rough, pulling back slightly to kiss the inside of your thigh. “You’re doin’ so good for me. One more with my cock inside you, yeah? Then I’ll let you rest.”
Your walls clenched hard at the promise, another hot wave of arousal chasing away the edge of overstimulation. You nodded shakily. “Yeah. Okay.”
He stood, towering over you, hastily stripping off his shirt, his joggers, everything, until he was gloriously, completely naked.
You swallowed. No matter how many times you saw him, the sight of him still punched the breath out of your lungs. Broad chest, scars scattered over tan skin, metal arm gleaming, thighs thick and powerful.
And his cock—hard, flushed, thick, the head already leaking, veiny shaft heavy against his stomach.
You licked your lips unconsciously. His eyes darkened.
“Open your mouth,” he said roughly.
Your thighs were still trembling, your pussy throbbing and sensitive, but you obeyed, lips parting, tongue poking out slightly.
He stroked himself once, twice, then guided the head to your tongue, smearing pre-cum across it. You moaned at the taste, at the weight of him.
“Fuck,” he rasped, head tipping back for a second. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
He pulled back and then lined himself up at your entrance, one hand on your hip, the other braced by your head. He paused, eyes locking on yours.
“You tell me to stop, I stop,” he said firmly. “You tell me to slow down, I slow down. You hear me?”
Warmth spread through your chest, cutting through the dizzy haze of lust. “I hear you.”
“You still green?” he asked, gaze searching.
You nodded, reaching up to cradle his cheek. “Green, Bucky. Want you.”
Something in his expression crumpled, softened, like you’d just given him something precious. He swallowed hard, then pushed forward, sinking into you in one long, slow thrust.
You both groaned.
You stretched around him, the burn sweet and intense, your body remembering him, welcoming him. He was big, always a bit of a stretch, and tonight you could feel every inch even more acutely with how sensitive you already were.
“Shit,” he gritted out, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he bottomed out. “You’re—fuck, you’re so tight. Always so fuckin’ tight.”
He stayed there, buried to the hilt, letting you adjust, his thumb brushing soothingly over your hip. Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart under your palm.
“Move,” you breathed, bucking your hips slightly. “Please, Bucky. I need—”
Whatever restraint he had left snapped.
He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, the force of it making the bed frame creak loudly against the wall. You cried out, the sound high and desperate, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“That’s it,” he groaned, setting a brutal rhythm, hips snapping against yours with punishing force. “Let ‘em hear you, baby. Let ‘em hear who’s makin’ you feel this good.”
The headboard thumped repeatedly against the wall, a steady, obscene beat. Your moans mixed with the wet slap of skin on skin, the symphony of it all loud enough that there was no way anyone in the hall—maybe even nearby rooms—could miss it.
You should’ve been mortified.
Instead, you felt your orgasm building again, fast and sharp.
“Bucky, oh my god,” you gasped, nails scratching down his back. “You’re—fuck—you’re so deep, I—”
“You were gonna let that kid touch you with his soft little hands,” Bucky snarled, angling his hips just right so every thrust slammed into that sweet spot inside you. “When this is what you get? When this is how I fuck you?”
You shook your head frantically, words tumbling out broken and breathless. “N-no, never, Bucky, I wouldn’t, I—ah—only want you, only you—”
He groaned like your words physically hit him, pace stuttering for a second before he slammed into you harder. “Say it again.”
“I only want you,” you cried, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes from sheer sensation. “Only you, Bucky. Only you can make me feel like this.”
He dropped his head to your neck, biting down gently, then soothing the sting with his tongue. “You’re mine,” he panted against your skin. “You know that, right? My girl. My sweet fuckin’ girl.”
The possessiveness, the filthy praise, the way his big body caged you in—it all braided together, tipping you right over the edge. Your orgasm hit like lightning, splitting you open, your whole body going taut as a strangled scream ripped out of you.
He groaned, voice wrecked. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Scream for me. Let ‘em all know who’s got you fallin’ apart.”
You clamped down around him so hard he swore, thrusts growing erratic. He shoved his flesh hand under your lower back, lifting your hips, driving into you deeper, impossibly deeper, chasing his own release while prolonging yours, sending aftershocks tearing through you until you were sobbing, mind blank.
You vaguely registered the sound of voices in the hallway, muted exclamations, someone laughing in disbelief. It only made the heat in your veins burn hotter.
“Bucky,” you whimpered, overstimulated, your body twitching with every thrust. “It’s too much, I—”
He slowed, just slightly, forehead pressing to yours, sweat dripping from his temples. “Almost there,” he rasped. “You can take it. You always take me so good.”
His thumb found your clit, circling it in tight, relentless little strokes that made you see stars, your body torn between pleasure and overload. A hysterical sound bubbled out of you.
“You’re a menace,” you choked, repeating your words from the safe house without meaning to.
He laughed, low and breathless, thumb never faltering. “And you fuckin’ love me for it.”
Maybe it was the words. Maybe it was the way he said them—love me—like it was a fact, like it had always been a fact.
Either way, they pushed you into yet another orgasm, this one more of a messy, shuddering collapse than an explosion. You shook under him, crying out weakly, your nails digging crescents into his skin.
“Jesus,” he groaned, voice strangled. “You’re gonna milk me fuckin’ dry, doll.”
He buried himself deep one last time, hips grinding against yours as he finally let go, a guttural moan ripping out of him as he spilled inside you. You felt it—hot and thick, filling you, his cock twitching as he rode out his release, his body trembling.
He stayed there, breathing hard, caging you beneath him, his weight heavy but comforting.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breaths and the fading echo of your combined noises in the quiet room.
Then, faintly, through the door, you heard Sam’s voice, muffled but unmistakable.
“Yo, is someone getting murdered or having the time of their life?”
You slapped a hand over your face, mortified, your entire body flushing hot. “I hate you,” you muttered into your palm.
Bucky barked out a laugh, chest shaking against yours. He carefully rolled to the side, keeping himself inside you for the moment, not ready to pull away from the warmth of your body.
“No, you don’t,” he said, voice softening, hand coming up to brush sweaty hair from your forehead. “You love me.”
Your heart stumbled.
You stared up at him, searching his face. There was no teasing in his eyes now, no smugness. Just raw, unguarded honesty.
“You don’t get to say that after you almost broke my bed frame,” you tried weakly, but even to your own ears, it sounded thin.
He smiled, small and earnest, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “I’m sayin’ it because it’s true. I love you,” he said simply. “I’ve been in love with you for a long fuckin’ time, doll. I can’t pretend like I’m just your angry, overprotective hookup anymore.”
Your throat went tight. “You can’t just say that because some recruit—”
“This has nothin’ to do with him,” Bucky cut in, shaking his head. “This is about me bein’ done hidin’ how I feel. I almost lost you too many damned times out there. I’m not wastin’ another second pretendin’ like you’re anything less than the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Tears stung your eyes for a whole different reason now. “Bucky…”
He swallowed, nerves flickering across his features. “You don’t have to say it back,” he added quickly. “I know I sprung this on you and I’m not exactly smooth, but—”
“I love you too, you idiot,” you blurted, laughing a little through the tears. “Of course I love you. Did you really think I was on the run with you for a year, letting you nearly break my spine in every shitty motel across three continents, and I didn’t love you?”
His face crumpled, relief crashing over him so hard it was almost visible. “You do?”
You nodded, cupping his face. “Yeah. I do.”
He kissed you then, slow and deep and sweet, nothing like the frantic, possessive heat from earlier. It was soft, reverent, his lips moving against yours like he was memorizing the shape of this moment.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing you in.
“So,” you murmured, a shaky smile curling your lips. “You gonna introduce yourself as my boyfriend now? Or just keep dragging me off every time someone looks at me?”
“Oh, I’m definitely still dragging you off,” he said, smirking. “But yeah. Boyfriend works. Your boyfriend, who is absolutely not letting that recruit within ten feet of you ever again.”
You snorted. “He’s probably traumatized for life already.”
“Good,” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Saves me the trouble.”
You both showered—together, because apparently Bucky had decided that any excuse to put his hands on you was valid—and eventually, after a lot of lazy kisses and halfhearted protests about being “too wrecked to move,” you let him coax you back into some semblance of clothing.
Your legs were still a little shaky as you made your way back toward the common room, Bucky’s arm slung securely around your shoulders, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your upper arm. You leaned into him, too content to pretend you didn’t want to be right there.
As soon as you stepped into the common area, conversation dipped, then surged, a wave of poorly concealed amusement and curiosity hitting you from all sides.
Sam was sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, Nat perched on the armrest beside him. Wanda was at the table with Vision, a mug of tea halfway to her lips, lips twitching. Steve stood by the counter, arms crossed, trying—and failing—not to smile.
Alec was there too, leaning against the far wall, face nearly as red as his training shirt.
You resisted the urge to turn around and walk right back out.
Sam whistled low. “Well, well, well. Look who survived.”
You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning. “Oh my god.”
“Gotta ask,” Sam said, eyes dancing with mischief. “Everything okay? Because from out here it sounded like a bear was mauling you.”
Wanda snorted into her tea. Nat bit her lip, clearly fighting a smile. Alec choked on air.
Your mouth opened, ready to come up with some mortified, half-baked excuse, but Bucky beat you to it.
“I couldn’t stand everyone not knowing how obsessed and in love with her I am,” he said easily, like he was commenting on the weather.
Silence.
Then chaos.
Sam choked on a kernel of popcorn. “What?”
Nat’s eyes widened, then narrowed in delighted satisfaction. “Knew it.”
Wanda beamed, looking genuinely pleased. “Finally.”
Steve just shook his head, smiling softly. “Took you long enough, pal.”
Alec made a strangled sound, his face going from red to downright crimson. He looked anywhere but at you, suddenly fascinated by a spot on the ceiling.
You glanced up at Bucky, heart hammering, a grin tugging at your lips despite your embarrassment.
He looked smug as hell, not even trying to hide it. He tightened his arm around you, tugging you closer, pressing a kiss to the side of your head like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Any other questions?” he asked the room at large.
Sam stared at you both for a long moment, then threw his hands up. “Nope. I’m good. Just… maybe soundproof the walls next time, Barnes. Some of us would like to sleep without hearing a live-action porno.”
Nat chuckled. “Speak for yourself.”
You groaned, burying your face in Bucky’s chest. “I’m never leaving my room again.”
He laughed, low and warm, his hand stroking your back. “Yeah, you are,” he murmured into your hair. “Can’t show off my girl if she hides.”
Your heart melted into a puddle at your feet.
You tipped your head back to look up at him, catching the softness in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you’d hung the damn moon.
“Your girl?” you repeated, unable to keep the smile out of your voice.
“Yeah,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, not a single hint of hesitation. “My girl.”
You threaded your fingers through his, squeezing.
“My boy,” you murmured back, so only he could hear, “is a menace.”
He grinned, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a quick, sweet kiss that still made your toes curl.
“And you,” he said, eyes sparkling, “love me for it.”
You did.
God help you, you really, really did.
tags: @firingstars @iamthatonefangirl @its-in-the-woods @houseofhyde @superbassbuck @chateaubarnes @earthsmightiestbenders @barnesonly @54nboo @winterdecember18 @unificsation @wildflowersandvibranium @juniebjonesin @blowingbarnes @grumpysunnybarnes @missvelvetsstuff @daisynotquake @colettebarnes @lokirogersgirl @sapphire882 @buckyfmd @justadaydreamingfangirl @quantumbarnes @overwintering-soldier @buckyboudoir @domitaylorsversion @multiversefanfics @avgdestitute @meowrz1a @barnes-babydoll @globetrotter28 @mariamorales1998 @okaytrashpanda @icantfindanamenottakenn @happygooberpastel @pinksplace @cautiouscas17 @infinitewithenvy @herejustforbuckybarnes @yexbarnes @sassandscribbles @ozwriterchick @spdrveil @r1ssa + add yourself here