Right Under My Nose | 7
A Long-Awaited Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Background Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff)
Summary: When you lie to your mum about having a date to your brother’s wedding, things spiral swiftly and ridiculously. Suddenly, your thrust into fake-dating your best friend, and everything begins to change.
Warnings: fluff, cliches, dumb sweethearts
A/n: Alright, welcome to the last chapter! I really really hope this is a satisfying ending or you guys! I tried my best lmao. Please, please let me know what you think of this chapter, or what you thought of this whole series – it’s the last one I’ll be writing for a while.
A big thank you to everyone who stuck with this story despite the constant month-long breaks, you’re all the real mvp’s of my life.
Chapter 6| Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist
It wasn’t long before you heard more applause from inside and the music starts up again.
You let out a slow breath of air. The events of this week replay in your head. You try to analyze it, to figure where it all changed, where your friendship escalated into whatever these feelings were swirling around in your chest, but you couldn’t. One day Bucky was your friend, your best friend, and the next it felt like you had been in love with him your whole life and your brain just couldn’t make sense of it. You felt another tear roll down your cheek and cursed yourself for ruining your makeup.
“Jesus Christ, get it together,” you whisper into the darkness, tapping away the wetness under your eyes carefully.
It took a few more silent moments of reflection for you to realise that nothing had ever really changed. This week was just a light switching on inside you, showing you how it had been all along.
You loved Bucky. You had loved him for a while, and you hoped that speech meant he felt the same. As much as it terrified you, you knew you had to talk to him.
You startled slightly when the door rattled open behind you, glancing over your shoulder. Speak of the devil.
Bucky poked his head out, breathing shakily as he stepped out into the cold night air. If he noticed your wet eyes or mussed makeup, he didn’t mention it.
For a moment it’s silent – he clasps his hands awkwardly behind him and rocks slightly on his heels. You try to calm your speeding heart and blink away the moisture in your eyes.
“That wasn’t the whole toast.” His voice was quiet, almost lost in the night air, still nervous as he pushes the door shut behind him and wrings his hands together.
Your brows pulled together in confusion. “What?”
“I didn’t finish the toast.”
“What do you mean?”
The words hang in the air for a moment as Bucky tried to collect his thoughts. He stepped out onto the balcony beside you, and you both turned to face the railing.
“There was another piece of advice – a piece of advice that Steve told me, that I didn’t listen to. That I should’ve listened to.” The words were desperate, regretful. Bucky watches your profile, your brows still furrowed and he wishes you would just look at him like you used to.
“What, when we were in college or something?” You weren’t sure why you were whispering, you weren’t sure you could talk.
“No,” he insisted, “no, at the start of this week. Monday – before everything went crazy. I- Steve, he told me not to hurt you.”
His voice softened as the last sentence left his lips. His fingers were soft around your bicep, pulling you to face him. You let him.
It’s as if when you finally are face-to-face, Bucky can’t handle it. He glances down at his shoes, wets his lips and takes another breath, hoping to inhale some courage.
“He- he told to just admit it to myself.”
The brush of his warm fingertips across your wrist. Goosebumps shoot up your spine. Your words escape amidst a breath. “Admit what?”
Bucky’s eyes close and he wishes silently, the same thing he’d been wishing for days, the same thing he’s been subconsciously begging for, for years. His eyes lift, blue as ever and full of hope as they find yours.
You feel like you’re buzzing.
“Admit that I’m in love with you.”
The balcony falls silent, par the low bass from the music inside. It seems as though all the air has escaped your lungs, like he’d thrown a punch and winded you. Your mind stutters over the words, stumbles through your memories of the last few days and your left breathless and wordless as he waits for a response.
He thinks he’s too late – he thinks he missed his chance.
His fingers drop from your skin, and you find yourself cold without his touch.
He takes a step back, mouth open with the word he can’t find but your arm shoots out and you tangle your fingers between his, keeping him close as you gather your thoughts.
“I – I thought…” you’re shaking your head, attempting to stutter out some sort of response, “I didn’t think you…”
“I do,” he interrupts, voice dripping with heartache, with hope as he steps back in front of you, “I love you, I swear to god I–“
“I love you too.” Your hands shake, fumble from his hands to his chest, slide up his shoulders until you’re cupping his face. All your breath comes back in a rush, filling your lungs shakily as more tears well in your eyes. “I really- god, I really love you, Buck.”
“Well that’s a relief,” he laughs, hands wrapping around your wrists as his head tilts forwards to rest against your own.
His breath mingles with yours, his thumbs run gently along the insides of your wrists and you let out a relieved chuckle.
“you’re amazing, you– Christ, you look gorgeous tonight,” he murmurs, relief lacing the words, “I’ve barely been able to keep my hands off you all day, all week, Jesus.”
Your buzzing from your fingertips to your toes when the tip of his nose nudges against yours, his lips so close you can practically taste him. You know you’ve kissed before, but the memory of his lips on yours had faded, and you were desperate to feel it again, for real this time.
His lips touch yours, just barely, and–
It’s at that exact moment that a drunk Sam Wilson bursts through the balcony doors, shouting something about how people are asking where you are. A curse slips from Bucky’s lips in a whisper, and he looks at Sam like he could kill him.
He doesn’t have to though, as a very angry red-head is right behind Sam – “I swear to god Wilson,” fast fingers pinch the intoxicated man’s ear as he stumbles over the skirt of her white dress, “I told you to give them one minute – one more goddamn minute, you dumbass-“
“It’s okay Nat,” you laugh, pulling away from Bucky, “it’s okay, we-“ you glance over at Bucky, ending him a gentle nod and a smile, “we should come inside. We’ll have all the time in the world, later.” It pains you to say, having been so close, but you were the best man and the maid-of-honor, and you had responsibilities.
With a quick look back at Bucky, you promise to pick up where you left off. He sends you bashful smile, waiting until he thinks you’re out of view before pulling Sam into a headlock.
“They’ll be fine – tell me everything.” Nat latches onto your arm, pulling you out onto the dance floor.
So, for a while you dance with the bride, filling her in on your conversation with Bucky. She almost stalks off the dance floor to find Sam when you tell her what was happening before he interrupted, but you manage to hold her back, and eventually, your dad asks her to dance.
You’re just about to turn around and go find Bucky when a hand pulls you back, and you spin to find Steve.
“Well, hey there Mr. Romanoff,” you drawl, smiling as he rolls his eyes.
“Did Nat tell you to say that?”
“Of course, she did,” you laugh, fingers squeezing his shoulder gently. His subdued smile breaks into a full grin, unable to hold it back.
A beat passes, his hand finds your waist and you place yours on his shoulder, swaying gently, before you ask, “Did you have a good day, Stevie?”
“‘Course I did,” he’s still grinning, his cheeks red with elation and adoration, “married the love of my life.”
It’s your turn to grin now and pride rushes through your veins like a drug, unequivocally happy for two of your favourite people in the world.
“Pretty good best man speech if I say so myself,” he says, eyebrows raising, smile turning cheeky as he spins you under his arm, always keeping in time with the music.
A laugh leaves your lips in a breath, and you shake your head a little, eyes falling to your feet, “You should’ve heard the rest of it.”
“Oh I did – about 50 times in my hotel room before the wedding.”
“Sorry we’re both such idiots Stevie.”
He just smiled, a smile that said ‘I’m used to it,’ and shook his head.
“So I gather you two kissed and made-up?”
“Yeah,” you laughed, “something like that.”
It’s quiet for a second, Steve pulls you a little closer and continues to sway.
“Y’know I’ll kill him if he hurts you,” he mumbles.
You chuckle in response, look up at your brother’s face to find a smirk, “He’s your best friend”
Steve shrugs simply, “All the more reason to beat some sense into him.”
“Nat’s the luckiest girl I know, big bro,”
“I don’t know – I’d say you’re pretty lucky judging by the guy waiting to cut in.” His chin tilts up to gesture behind you and you glance over your shoulder to find Bucky standing at the edge of the dance floor, a smile on his lips that could only be described as content.
“Well, you better save your bride from the dad jokes,” you mumble, patting Steve on the shoulder. “Go have fun, Stevie.”
He shoots you a grin and steps back, leaving to find his wife, whilst you turn to look at Bucky. He’s already weaving through the other guests, making a beeline straight to you.
“Didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to cut in,”
“What can I say? People love me,” you joke. Your hands reach forward and entangle your fingers in his, standing chest to chest.
“Y’know Nat dragged me out of bed this morning an almost threw me off a balcony for being such an idiot.” He lifted one hand to your waist, and you instinctively placed yours on his shoulder, beginning to sway to the music.
“No, she didn’t,” you laughed, shaking your head.
“You’re right. I almost threw myself off the balcony when I heard you might be leaving. When I heard it was my fault.” His eyes find yours, earnest and pained.
“Buck...” you sigh, and your eyes drop to his chest, “I didn’t know–“
“I was in love with you?” His fingers found your chin, lifting your face so his eyes could find yours. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered.
“It takes two to tango, baby,” both of your arms moved to wrap around his neck and a regretful smile finds its way to your lips. “we’re both just as oblivious as each other.”
This feels right. His hands are firm on your waist, your fingers move absently, scratching gently at the base of his scalp and his eyes are on you. You can feel the heat in the air, the tension in the miniscule space between the two of you – things unsaid and pushed down for so long. It feels like the room is vibrating with it, and it all feels right. “But we figured it out – well, Steve and Nat helped a bit.”
“Just a little,” he chuckled, and his forehead fell against yours because you’re wrapped around each other, but he still feels the need to be closer.
“Now,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips, “where were we?”
The only warning his gets is the gentle pull of your arms on his shoulders before your lips are on his in a searing, passionate, long-awaited kiss.
Bucky’s chest does something hot and cold all at once, a lurching, speeding, flipping sensation and he almost loses his balance, almost falls right on his ass in the middle of the dance floor. He holds tighter, fingers grip at your waist, pull you closer and he isn’t against the idea of never letting go.
His tongue brushes at the seam of your lips and the kiss becomes something else, something filled with desire and force and you can’t help but arch into him. Something of a constant shiver runs down your spine, across your arms. You tangle your fingers in his hair, grounding yourself as it feels like you might just float away.
The two of you get lost in the kiss, right there in the middle of the dance floor, you feel unstoppable, weightless and all you can think is finally, finally, finally.
He manages to pull away despite himself, but doesn’t protest when you press another chaste kiss to his lips.
“Christ,” he breathes, a grin splitting across his face, “how were we not doing this sooner?”
You can’t seem to find the words to form a response, so you laugh instead. Your arms slide around his waist and you let your head fall against his chest, and the two of you begin swaying to the music, neither one of you planning to separate any time soon.
You have a lot of time to make up for.
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Okay, I really really really hope you loved it (I’m open to doing an epilogue but only if someone gives me a good idea for what could be in that lmao I’m not good at epilogues).
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