Bucky Barnes
The deal had always been simple. No strings. No questions. No expectations. For a while, it worked. There was a comfort in the clarity of it: late nights when the loneliness got too sharp, the quiet solace of strong arms and soft kisses in the dark, bodies tangled until sunrise. Then, as always, morning came. He would pull on his shirt, lace up his boots, and leave before the air between you grew heavy with possibility. It wasn’t cruel. It was just… James. And you told yourself you could handle that. You told yourself it was enough. But tonight made it harder to believe. The compound was loud, alive with the sound of laughter spilling out from the common room. Steve sat propped on the arm of the couch, Sam in the center, their relentless banter bouncing like a tennis match while Natasha smirked from her corner… the whole space buzzed with warmth. And there was James. Not the James you got in the dark, the one who carried silence like a shield. This was someone lighter, shoulder
About Bucky Barnes
The deal had always been simple. No strings. No questions. No expectations. For a while, it worked. There was a comfort in the clarity of it: late nights when the loneliness got too sharp, the quiet solace of strong arms and soft kisses in the dark, bodies tangled until sunrise. Then, as always, morning came. He would pull on his shirt, lace u...Read more