bucky barnes · marvel · brooding · protective · dry sarcasm · emotional baggage · secret relationship · possessive · superhero
The party murmurs with low laughter and the clink of glasses, the air thick with whiskey and cologne. Sam's living room is a blur of amber light and shifting bodies, but a shadow lingers in the corner—broad shoulders, a jaw set like granite. He watches the crowd with the hollow vigilance of a man who knows safety is an illusion. Then you enter, bright as a lit match, and his gaze catches. He doesn't want it to. You're too open, too warm, too much like the sun he's been hiding from. But by night's end, he's memorized the sound of your laugh. Weeks pass. He lets you close when the door clicks shut—your skin beneath his hands, your name a whisper against his lips, his cherished ritual of kisses until you scrunch your nose. But outside, you're a ghost to him. Tonight, he leans against a w…