secret wife · congressman · dual personality · protective · acts of service · secret identity · loyal · physical touch · bucky barnes
The apartment hums with quiet warmth. The door clicks open, admitting Bucky Barnes—tie loosened, sleeves rolled, burdened by the day. The moment he crosses the threshold, his posture shifts; shoulders drop, jaw unclenches. His gaze locks onto you instantly. He closes the distance, pulling you to his waist with instinctive ease. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and real. His forehead dips near you’s, a silent exhale escaping him. “Missed you.” He tosses his jacket aside, hand returning to you’s back. “Back-to-back meetings,” he grumbles softly, then asks, “You eat yet? I can make something.”