Buckys Girl

I take requests of any character / storyline.

[bandsofmarv]

Heyy idkk if theres any reason why u stopped posting fics (new follower btw) but i hope ur doing fine!!

I’m good! I’m going to be posting again soon so any requests please inbox me :)

[bandsofmarv]

The unraveling of us

Rafe’s possessive and jealous behaviour leads you to question the relationship and one night goes too far.

Trigger warning // abuse, jealousy, possessive behaviour , violence. DARK.

This will be a series

You weren’t sure when Rafe’s love began to feel more like a cage. In the beginning, it had been intoxicating the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room. His attention made you feel special, chosen. But as time passed, the intensity of his affection twisted into something darker, something suffocating.

You had always been a Pogue, one of the “lower” class on the island, and Rafe had always been the Kook. It didn’t make sense when you first got together. You had always been worlds apart he, with his money, his power, and his perfect life; you, with your friends, the laughter, the simple joys. But somehow, against all odds, it had started. And for a while, it felt like maybe he was different, maybe he’d see past the social divide between your worlds.

But it didn’t take long for the cracks to start showing.

It started with little things. He’d make snide comments about your friends, the Pogues. “Don’t hang out with them too much,” he’d say, voice dripping with superiority. “They don’t know how to treat you right.”

Then came the jealousy. The first time you caught him glaring at JJ, you thought you imagined it. But when it happened again, and again, you realized Rafe had a problem with anyone who so much as looked at you.

“Just… don’t talk to him, okay?” he’d say, his voice tight, watching as JJ cracked jokes from across the room. “He doesn’t respect you. He doesn’t care about you like I do.”

It didn’t take long before those comments turned into orders. He’d show up uninvited when you went out, glaring at your friends, making you feel like you couldn’t be anywhere without his eyes on you. He’d show up at the Tannyhill parties, always hovering close by, a constant reminder that you were his. And he made it clear that no one else could get too close.

───୨ৎ────୨୧────୨ৎ───୨ৎ────

The night of the party, the tension between you and Rafe was palpable. The car ride over had been thick with silence. You had tried to talk about the things that had been bothering you, but he’d just brushed you off, the same dark glint in his eyes.

“Why do you always make this harder than it needs to be?” he muttered, his fingers clenched tightly around the steering wheel. “I just want you to be mine, Y/N. Why can’t you just be with me and forget about the rest of them?”

You had tried to argue, tried to explain that you loved your friends, that you didn’t need his permission to spend time with them. But it was no use. Rafe didn’t listen. He was too focused on controlling you.

The party was a blur. Music thumped in the background as you mingled, laughing with your friends. But every time you caught someone’s gaze, you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, burning a hole into your back. You could practically feel the possessiveness radiating off him.

JJ was the first one to approach you. His easy grin spread across his face as he handed you a drink. “You look like you’re surviving this chaos,” he joked, nudging you playfully.

“Just about,” you laughed, relaxing for the first time that night.

But then you felt it Rafe’s presence, looming behind you. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze was like a storm. His jaw clenched as he watched you and JJ laughing together, and you could see his grip on his drink tighten.

“Don’t talk to him, Y/N,” Rafe’s voice was cold, cutting through the lightheartedness.

You turned around, your heart sinking. “What?”

“I said, don’t talk to him,” Rafe repeated, his voice lower this time, dark and sharp.

JJ glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow. “Dude, relax. We’re just talking.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you. His eyes never left JJ, full of something dangerous.

“Rafe, please, stop.” Your voice wavered as you tried to step between them. But before you could reach him, Rafe grabbed your arm, yanking you toward him with a force that made your chest tighten.

“Don’t touch her, Rafe!” JJ’s voice was sharp, his stance protective as he took a step forward. “Get your hands off her!”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his lips curling into a sneer. “You think you can just take her from me, JJ? You think you can have her? She’s mine.”

Your stomach twisted at his words. Mine. That’s what he always said, but you’d never felt more like something to be possessed than you did right now.

“Rafe, this isn’t you” you started, trying to pull away from his grip. But his hold only tightened, and you winced as his fingers dug into your skin.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Rafe hissed, his voice trembling with rage. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I won’t.”

“You’re losing me right now,” you said, your voice breaking. “This isn’t love, Rafe. You don’t own me!”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. For a moment, Rafe just stood there, his eyes wide, his breath coming in harsh gasps. Then, without warning, his fist flew toward JJ.

There was a sickening crack as Rafe’s fist connected with JJ’s jaw, sending him stumbling back into a group of bystanders.

“Stop it!” you screamed, trying to break free from Rafe’s hold, but he held you tightly, his grip unyielding as he glared at JJ, his chest heaving.

“You’re not going to take her from me,” Rafe spat, voice thick with jealousy and possessiveness.

“I don’t want her like this,” JJ groaned from the floor, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re destroying her, Rafe.”

Tears welled in your eyes, your heart breaking as the reality of everything you’d been ignoring finally hit you. You had let this go on for far too long. You had let Rafe’s obsession cloud everything. But tonight, it had gone too far.

“You don’t own me!” you shouted at him, voice trembling with fury. “I’m not yours to control! I’m leaving!”

Rafe’s face twisted with rage, his eyes wild as he reached out to grab your arm. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled.

But the anger in his voice didn’t scare you anymore. You yanked your arm out of his grip, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned and ran out of the house, not caring where you were going, just knowing you couldn’t stay any longer.

───୨ৎ────୨୧────୨ৎ───୨ৎ────

The cool night air burned against your skin as you fled the party. Your mind was clouded with anger and fear, the stinging words from Rafe replaying in your head. You didn’t know where to go, didn’t know what to do. But you knew one thing: you couldn’t stay at that party, not after what happened.

As you walked the streets, your thoughts raced, and you tried to ignore the panic bubbling up inside. You had to get away from Rafe. You had to get away from the suffocating grip he had on your life. But your feet carried you back to his house anyway, against your better judgment. Maybe it was the familiarity of it, or maybe the fear of what would happen if you didn’t.

You let yourself into the large, quiet house, the door creaking as you pushed it open. The silence felt oppressive, thick with the tension that had been building between you two for weeks. You told yourself you were just getting your things, that you’d leave for good this time. But even as you made your way inside, you knew you couldn’t escape him so easily.

And sure enough, there he was, standing at the foot of the stairs when you walked in, his jaw tight, his eyes cold.

“You thought you could just leave?” Rafe’s voice was low and filled with menace, every word dripping with danger. His posture was rigid, his expression unreadable.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “I couldn’t stay there. You hurt him, Rafe.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, but you refused to back down.

“I hurt him?” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, as if the very air between you two had thickened. “You think he respects you? You think you can just waltz in here and run off with someone like him, after everything I’ve given you? After everything I’ve done for you?”

His words felt like poison, but you tried to stand tall, trying to gather some semblance of courage. “You don’t own me, Rafe. You never did. I’m done.”

The words barely left your mouth when he was on you, his hand shooting out and grabbing your wrist, squeezing with a painful force. His grip felt like a vice, and for a moment, you thought you might not be able to breathe.

“Done?” he sneered, his voice low and dripping with malice. “You think you can just walk away from me like you’re some fucking saint? You think you can just break everything between us and get away with it?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he dragged you across the room, slamming you against the wall. The impact made your head spin, and you gasped, trying to pull yourself together. His eyes were cold, calculating, as if something had snapped inside him.

“Rafe, please let go,” you begged, but the words seemed to fall on deaf ears. His face was twisted in a mixture of anger and desperation.

“Do you know what you’ve made me do?” he growled, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through? I loved you, Y/N. I gave you everything. And you repay me by running off with him? With that?” He spat the words like venom.

“Rafe, stop it!” you cried, tears welling in your eyes. “You’re scaring me!”

His grip tightened on your wrist, pulling you closer to him, until your faces were inches apart. His breath was hot against your skin, and for a moment, it felt like the world had gone silent, just the two of you in the storm of his rage.

“You think you’re going to leave me, huh?” His voice was barely a whisper, and you could hear the venom in it. “You think you can have him, and forget about me? You think I’m just going to stand here and let you walk away like that?”

Your heart was racing. “Rafe stop!”

But he wasn’t stopping. His hand moved to your throat, gripping it with startling force, and you gasped, feeling the pressure against your windpipe. Panic shot through you, but Rafe’s eyes were wild, fevered with jealousy and anger.

“You think you’re leaving me?” he snarled, shaking you slightly, his other hand digging into your arm, bruising you. “No. You’re not going anywhere, Y/N. Not now. Not ever.”

You struggled beneath his grip, trying to pry his hand from your throat, but he was stronger than you, more furious than you had ever seen him.

“Rafe, please stop!” you begged, fear thick in your voice.

But there was no recognition of your plea. Only rage, possessiveness, and a deep, twisted sense of entitlement.

“You think I won’t hurt you?” Rafe spat, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he shook you again. “I’ll make sure you never forget that you’re mine!”

Suddenly, something snapped inside you. A surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, and with every ounce of strength you had, you brought your knee up into his groin.

He staggered back, gasping for air, his hand flying to his stomach.

“You think I’m yours?” you shouted, voice hoarse with anger. “You don’t own me, Rafe! You never did!”

Rafe’s face contorted with rage as he lunged at you again. “You little bitch!” He slammed his fist into your side, making you stumble backward, the force of it sending you crashing into the nearby coffee table.

Pain exploded in your ribs as you hit the ground, but you scrambled to your feet, your body trembling. You could taste blood in your mouth, and the fear inside you was growing this wasn’t just anger anymore, it was violence.

“Get the fuck off me!” you yelled, trying to push him away, but Rafe was relentless. He grabbed your hair, yanking you back by it, making you cry out in pain.

“You want to leave me?” he hissed through gritted teeth, dragging you backward across the floor. “You think you can just leave like everything’s fine? Like you didn’t belong to me?”

He threw you back against the wall with force, the back of your head cracking against it. A sharp pain shot through you, and for a moment, everything went blurry.

But you couldn’t give up. Not now.

Your hand found a nearby lamp, and with shaking hands, you swung it toward him. It crashed against his shoulder, and he howled in pain, stumbling back.

For a brief moment, you thought he might hesitate maybe, just maybe, he’d realize what he was doing.

But there was no slowing down. Rafe was a storm, and you were nothing more than debris in his path.

He grabbed you again, pulling you roughly toward him, his grip like steel, his eyes wild with fury. “You want to run away?” he growled. “You want to leave me? I’ll make sure no one ever touches you again. No one will ever love you like I do. No one will ever want you like I do. You’re mine, Y/N.”

You fought back, your heart pounding as you kicked and shoved, but his rage kept coming, relentless and dark. He pinned you against the wall, and for the first time, you felt truly trapped. The pain was unbearable, the suffocation of his control too much to bear.

You gasped for breath, your heart hammering in your chest. “I’m leaving, Rafe.” The words were barely a whisper. “And you can’t stop me.”

For a moment, his grip faltered, the haze of anger lifting for just a second, but then the dark glint returned to his eyes.

“No, you’re not,” he snarled, his voice venomous. “You’re mine. You’ll never leave me. Ever.”

The suffocating fear returned, but with it came a new resolve. You couldn’t stay. Not anymore. You couldn’t let him break you any longer.

Gathering every ounce of strength you had left, you shoved him off, running for the door.

“Don’t you dare leave!” he shouted after you. But you didn’t look back. You didn’t stop. You just ran, the sound of his voice following you as you fled into the night.

You didn’t know where you were going—but it didn’t matter. You were free.

And you were done with him.

[bandsofmarv]

Shielded heart

After breaking up with you months ago Bucky realises he can’t live without you after seeing you on a date.

Angst, smut.

The knock at your door was sharp and insistent, but this time, it wasn’t just unwelcome it was infuriating.

You’d barely stepped out of your heels when it came, loud enough to make you jump. You froze, your hand gripping the back of the couch as you stared at the door. Only one person knocked like that.

Your blood boiled as his voice broke through, low and angry. “Y/N, open the damn door.”

You didn’t move, your heart pounding in your chest. “Go away, Bucky,” you called out, your voice sharper than usual.

“No.” His reply was immediate and clipped. “We need to talk. Now.”

You stormed to the door, your date still fresh in your mind, the laughter and warmth of the evening now overshadowed by the man standing on the other side of the threshold. You yanked the door open, meeting his stormy blue eyes with a glare.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you snapped. “And you don’t get to show up here like this.”

Bucky looked furious, his hair disheveled, his leather jacket unzipped like he’d rushed over. “Like hell there isn’t,” he growled, his eyes narrowing. “Who was he?”

Your stomach twisted, but you refused to let him see how much his question rattled you. “None of your business,” you said coldly, crossing your arms.

“The hell it isn’t,” Bucky snapped, stepping closer. “You think I don’t notice you dressing up? Smiling like that? I saw you, Y/N. With him.”

His words hit you like a slap, the possessiveness in his tone making your anger spike. “You saw me?” you repeated, incredulous. “What, are you stalking me now? You have no right”

“I have every right,” he interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re mine.”

“I’m not yours!” you shot back, your voice rising. “You left me, Bucky! You don’t get to walk out of my life and then act like you have a claim to me.”

His jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said, his voice strained. “I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“And look how well that turned out,” you said bitterly. “You hurt me, Bucky. You broke me. And now, what? You see me on a date and suddenly you care?”

“That’s not what this is,” he said, his voice softening, but the tension in his frame remained.

“Isn’t it?” you challenged, taking a step closer, your anger boiling over. “You only care now because you’re jealous. Because for once, I wasn’t sitting at home, waiting for you to decide you were ready to come back.”

His expression cracked, guilt flashing across his face. “I know I messed up,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I know I don’t deserve you. But seeing you with him? I couldn’t I can’t”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” you interrupted, your voice shaking. “You don’t get to show up here and act like you own me just because you don’t want anyone else to.”

His eyes darkened, and he stepped even closer, the heat between you palpable. “I don’t just want you, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. “I need you. And no one can love you like I can.”

You sucked in a breath, your anger mixing with the undeniable pull you still felt toward him. “You’re unbelievable,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“I’m not walking away again,” he said firmly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You can hate me all you want, but I’m not giving up. That guy you were with? He’ll never know you like I do. Never touch you the way I can.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his words pressing against the walls you’d built around your heart. “Bucky”

“No,” he cut you off, his voice rough and desperate. “I’ve already lost you once. I won’t let it happen again.”

For a moment, you stood frozen, torn between anger and the deep ache you still felt for him. But as much as you wanted to slam the door in his face, a part of you couldn’t. A part of you didn’t want him to leave.

Bucky had made the decision for you before you knew it he was on you, his hands cupping your face as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was desperate and all-consuming, every ounce of frustration, jealousy, and longing poured into it. You should have pushed him away, reminded him of the boundaries you’d just set but you didn’t.

Instead, you kissed him back with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair as he backed you against the wall. His body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him as his hands roamed down to your waist, gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“Bucky” you gasped when he pulled back, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Don’t say anything,” he growled, his voice rough and possessive. “Just let me prove it to you.”

You shivered as his teeth grazed your skin, his metal hand sliding under your shirt to splay across your back, pulling you even closer. His flesh hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head so he could look into your eyes.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “You think some guy can make you feel like this? Touch you the way I do?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes stole the words from your lips. His fingers trailed down your side, tugging your shirt over your head before his lips returned to yours, hot and demanding.

“Tell me the truth,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your thigh and lifting it around his hip. “Did you feel anything when he touched you? Did it even come close to this?”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling as he ground against you, his hardness pressing against your core. “Bucky…”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his tone triumphant. He picked you up with ease, carrying you to the couch and laying you down. His eyes were dark with desire as he stripped you of the rest of your clothes, his hands mapping your body like he needed to remind himself you were his.

“You can pretend to hate me all you want,” he murmured, leaning over you as he stripped off his shirt. “But your body doesn’t lie. You still want me.”

You glared at him, trying to hold onto your anger, but it was hard to think when his lips were on your skin, kissing and biting a trail down your chest. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as he settled between them.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said, his voice dark and commanding. “Say it.”

Your breath hitched as his tongue flicked over your most sensitive spot, your hands fisting in the couch cushions. “Bucky”

“Say it,” he demanded, his metal hand pressing against your stomach to keep you still as he worked you into a frenzy. “Say you’re mine, or I’ll stop.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your head falling back as pleasure built in your core. “I’m yours, Bucky.”

A satisfied growl rumbled in his chest, and he pulled back, his lips glistening as he smirked down at you. “That’s my girl,” he said, shedding the rest of his clothes before aligning himself with you.

The stretch as he filled you was almost too much, but it was everything you needed. He moved slowly at first, his gaze locked on yours as he claimed you in every way possible.

“No one else can have you,” he murmured, his pace quickening. “No one else will ever touch you like this. You’ll never want anyone else, Y/N. You’re mine.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body trembling as you cried out his name. He followed moments later, his movements faltering as he buried himself deep inside you, his groan of release muffled against your neck.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing. Bucky stayed above you, his weight comforting as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder.

“You’ll never want anyone else,” he whispered again, his voice softer now but no less certain. “Because no one else can love you like I do.”

This time, you didn’t argue.

[bandsofmarv]

Could I make another request? :)

Bucky X reader where reader has a hard time sleeping and goes into his room and asks to stay the night with him?

I loved writing this! Enjoy!

Safe In His Arms

Struggling to sleep in the unfamiliar avengers compound you seek comfort in Bucky.

Fluff, slight smut.

The Avengers compound was too quiet at night, the kind of stillness that made your thoughts louder. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the ache of loneliness settle in your chest. No matter how much you tossed and turned, sleep wouldn’t come.

With a sigh, you threw off the blanket and wandered into the dimly lit hallway, your bare feet cool against the polished floor. Without realizing it, you found yourself outside Bucky Barnes’ door.

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the wood. Bucky had been your rock since you moved in, his steady presence a comfort amidst the chaos. But waking him up in the middle of the night? Was that pushing it?

The ache in your chest grew stronger, and before you could overthink, you knocked softly.

The door opened a moment later, revealing Bucky in a rumpled gray T-shirt and sweats, his hair slightly tousled. His sleepy blue eyes blinked at you, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything feels so… overwhelming.”

Bucky’s features softened as he stepped aside. “Come in.”

His room was simple but warm, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows over the walls. You perched on the edge of the bed, your fingers twisting in your lap.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” you mumbled.

“You’re not bothering me,” he said gently, sitting beside you. “I know what it’s like. This place can feel… big. Lonely.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. “Can I… stay? Just for tonight?”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze soft. Then, without a word, he pulled back the blanket and slid under it, patting the space beside him.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

You hesitated only for a moment before climbing in beside him. To your surprise, Bucky didn’t keep his distance. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest.

“You okay like this?” he asked, his voice rumbling in your ear.

“Yes,” you whispered, your cheeks warming. “This is… perfect.”

He rested his chin lightly on the top of your head, his metal arm resting across your hip while his warm hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. “You’re safe here,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

The tension in your body melted away as you relaxed into his embrace, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into calm.

For a while, the two of you lay there in silence, your body completely at ease in his arms. But as the minutes passed, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced, how every little movement he made sent a warmth coursing through you.

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him. His blue eyes were already on you, soft and filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice heavy with emotion.

He smiled faintly, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Anytime, doll. Always.”

Something in the air shifted. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned up and pressed your lips softly to his.

He froze for a moment, as if caught off guard, but then his hand cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic it was warm and consuming, like he was pouring everything he couldn’t say into it. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, his forehead rested against yours, his hand still cradling your face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your lips curled into a small smile. “Me too.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you closer against his chest. “Get some sleep now, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.”

And with his warmth wrapped around you and his kiss still lingering on your lips, you finally felt at home.

[bandsofmarv]

I don’t know if you’ve done it yet but if you haven’t can you please make a part 2 of “claimed by the devil” rafe Cameron

Here we go :)

Claimed By The Devil

Rafe isn’t the type to let go. His obsession with you deepens and his desperation turns dangerous.

Part 1

Warnings - obsessive behaviour.

It had been a week since the party. A week since you’d walked away from Rafe. A week since you’d chosen JJ.

But Rafe hadn’t made it easy to move on.

The texts and calls started the night you left with JJ. At first, they were frantic and desperate. Apologies. Promises to change. Pledges of undying love. Then they turned darker. Accusations. Threats. Reminders that you couldn’t escape him.

JJ had convinced you to stay with him, his small apartment feeling like the only safe place in the Outer Banks. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Rafe was everywhere. His voice haunted your thoughts, his presence lingering in every shadow.

“You okay?” JJ asked, his voice pulling you out of your spiral.

You looked up from the couch where you sat, knees pulled to your chest. JJ stood in the kitchen, frying something that smelled vaguely like bacon. His concern was evident in the way he leaned on the counter, his blue eyes soft.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a weak smile. “Just… thinking.”

He put the spatula down and walked over, sitting next to you. “About him?”

You nodded, your chest tightening. “It’s like he’s still here, even when he’s not.”

JJ’s jaw clenched, a flicker of anger flashing across his face. “He’s not here. He’s never getting near you again. I won’t let him.”

The warmth in JJ’s voice was a balm against the fear crawling up your spine, but even he couldn’t erase the memories of Rafe.

Later that night, while JJ slept beside you, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You froze, dread pooling in your stomach as the screen lit up with his name.

Rafe: Come outside.

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, your body frozen with fear. Then another text came through.

Rafe: I know you’re with him. Come out, or I’ll come in.

You sat up, your hands trembling as you turned to look at JJ. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Quietly, you slipped out of bed and made your way to the front door.

Rafe was waiting just outside, leaning against his car with a cigarette between his fingers. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you, and a twisted smile spread across his face.

“Finally,” he said, flicking the cigarette away. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“What am I doing here?” he repeated, his tone mockingly sweet. “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing, hiding out with him like some kind of fugitive?”

“I’m not hiding,” you said, your voice stronger now. “I’m done, Rafe. I told you that.”

He stepped closer, his smile fading. “You think it’s that easy? You think you can just walk away from me? You’re mine, Y/N. You’ve always been mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you said, backing up. “I’m not anyone’s.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists. “He’s not better for you, you know,” he said, his voice dropping. “JJ doesn’t understand you. He doesn’t know what you need. He’ll never love you like I do.”

“Rafe”

“No!” he shouted, cutting you off. His voice cracked, raw with emotion. “You don’t get to throw this away. You don’t get to throw us away.”

“There is no us anymore,” you said, tears stinging your eyes.

Rafe’s expression twisted into something you didn’t recognize something darker. “If I can’t have you, no one can.”

The sound of the front door opening startled both of you. JJ stepped out onto the porch, his gaze immediately locking onto Rafe.

“What the hell are you doing here, Cameron?” JJ growled, his body tense as he stepped in front of you.

Rafe let out a cold laugh, shaking his head. “Of course. The knight in shining armor,” he sneered. “What are you gonna do, Maybank? You think you can protect her from me?”

“I don’t think,” JJ said, his voice steady. “I know.”

Rafe’s smile faded, and for a moment, the three of you stood frozen in the tense silence. Then, Rafe stepped forward, his gaze locked on you.

“This isn’t over,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “You can try to run, but you’ll never get away from me. I’ll always find you.”

JJ took a step closer, his fists clenched. “You come near her again, and I swear, I’ll end you.”

Rafe smirked, his eyes flicking to you one last time before he turned and walked away.

As his car roared down the street, JJ pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry.

You nodded against his chest, but deep down, you knew Rafe wasn’t done. This was only the beginning of his storm, and you had no idea how to stop it.

[bandsofmarv]

Cutting Ties (Ghostface Bucky)

Bucky becomes dangerously obsessed with you even going as far as eliminating those around you.

warnings - murder, obsession.

The first time you noticed him, you thought it was just a coincidence. A dark figure at the edge of your vision as you walked home from the coffee shop. A fleeting shadow that seemed to disappear the moment you turned around.

Brooklyn was always alive with people, even at night, so you chalked it up to paranoia. But it wasn’t long before the coincidences became harder to ignore.

A knock at your apartment door late at night. No one there when you checked.

Your name written in the condensation on your bathroom mirror.

The faint feeling of being watched, even in your own home.

And then the killings started.

The first victim was your coworker, a sweet woman named Rachel who’d always made an effort to check in on you. You found out through the news the next morning. Stabbed in her apartment. No sign of forced entry.

The police called it random, but you knew better. Rachel had just been at your apartment two nights before, sharing wine and gossip. She’d been your only real friend in the city.

Her death left you shaken. But the city didn’t stop, and neither could you.

A week later, it was your neighbor, Marcus. He’d offered to help fix your leaky faucet the night before he was found in the stairwell, his throat slit.

The pattern was impossible to ignore now. Everyone who got close to you seemed to end up dead.

That’s when you saw him.

It was late, and you were walking home from work. The streets were unusually quiet, a thin fog rolling in from the river. The air felt heavy, suffocating.

And then you saw the figure at the end of the street.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a black cloak, the Ghostface mask gleaming white under the streetlights. He didn’t move, just stood there, watching you.

Your heart pounded as you froze, clutching your bag like it could protect you.

“Who are you?” you called, your voice shaking.

He tilted his head, the mask turning slightly as if amused by your fear.

When he finally took a step forward, you bolted.

————————————————————————

You spent the next week barricading yourself inside your apartment, refusing to answer the door or your phone. Sleep was impossible. Every creak, every shadow set your nerves on edge.

But no matter how hard you tried to shut the world out, you couldn’t escape him.

A package arrived at your door one morning. No return address. Inside was a single black glove and a note scrawled in messy handwriting:

“You don’t need anyone else. You have me.”

Your stomach twisted, bile rising in your throat. This wasn’t random. He was obsessed with you.

The next time you saw him, it was in your apartment.

You woke up to find him standing at the foot of your bed, the Ghostface mask blank and staring. You couldn’t even scream, your body frozen in terror.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. Low, gravelly, almost familiar.

“Who are you?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He reached up, slowly pulling the mask away.

Your breath hitched.

“Bucky?”

James Buchanan Barnes—your quiet, brooding neighbor who always seemed to linger a little too long in the hallway. The man who had offered to carry your groceries up the stairs, who had fixed your squeaky door without you asking.

“I’ve been protecting you,” he said, his blue eyes soft but unrelenting. “They didn’t deserve you. None of them did.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “You killed them… Rachel, Marcus… Why?”

His expression darkened, the softness replaced by something far more dangerous.

“They were getting in the way,” he said simply. “You don’t need anyone else. I’ve been here the whole time. For you.”

You tried to scramble out of the bed, but he was faster, his Vibranium arm pinning you in place.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and almost pleading. “I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. But I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The days that followed blurred together. Bucky didn’t leave. He stayed in your apartment, always watching, always nearby. He cooked your meals, cleaned up after himself, even smiled at you like none of this was horrifying.

But the mask stayed, perched on the table like a silent reminder of what he was capable of.

You tried to escape once, when he was in the shower. But the moment you opened the door, he was there, dripping wet and furious.

“Don’t make me lock you in,” he warned, his grip on your wrist firm but not painful. “I don’t want to do that.”

You realized then that there was no reasoning with him.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a broken man. He was completely unhinged. And you were his obsession.

One night, as he sat across from you at the table, you decided to speak.

“Why me?” you asked quietly.

He tilted his head, considering the question.

“You were kind,” he said after a long pause. “The only person who looked at me like I was more than… this.” He gestured to his Vibranium arm, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “I couldn’t let you slip away like everyone else.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice calm, “this isn’t love. This is—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted sharply, his jaw tightening. “Don’t say that. I love you. I’ve done everything for you. I’ve made sure no one else could hurt you.”

You didn’t have an answer for that. What could you possibly say to someone who believed their obsession was love?

All you knew was that you had to find a way out. Before he decided that even you weren’t enough.

[bandsofmarv]

What’s Your Favourite Horror Movie Pogue?

Rafe Cameron, consumed by an obsessive love for you, becomes Ghostface, murdering anyone he sees as a threat to his claim on you.

TW- murder, obsessive behaviour.

The Outer Banks was known for its beauty: golden sunsets, endless beaches, and the salty air that whispered promises of freedom. But lately, that promise felt like a lie. The town was gripped with fear, whispers of a masked killer spreading like wildfire. They called him Ghostface, a name plucked from horror movies but now real, haunting your life in ways you couldn’t escape.

What no one knew what you didn’t know was that the killer wasn’t some faceless stranger. It was Rafe Cameron.

And his obsession with you was the reason the killings had begun.

The first time you noticed something strange, it had been subtle. Rafe was always intense, his gaze lingering on you a little too long, his presence suffocating in a way that should have made you uncomfortable. But Rafe was also charming, magnetic even. You found yourself drawn to him despite the warnings in your head.

But as the days passed, his intensity deepened. He started showing up unannounced at your work, outside your house, even at the places you went to clear your mind.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he’d say, flashing that disarming smile. “With everything going on, you can’t be too careful.”

At first, it felt sweet. Protective. But soon, it felt suffocating.

The murders began with strangers people you didn’t know well enough to connect the dots. A lifeguard at the beach, a couple tourists who had wandered into the wrong part of town. The pattern was erratic at first, but then it started to hit closer to home.

You were with Sarah Cameron when she got the call about her boyfriend, Topper. The cops had found him in the woods, gutted like an animal. Sarah broke down in your arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and you couldn’t help but notice Rafe watching from the corner of the room.

His expression wasn’t one of grief. It was satisfaction.

The night it all came crashing down, you were alone in your house. The power had gone out during a storm, and you were sitting in the living room with a flashlight and your phone, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling settling over you.

That’s when you heard the knock at the door.

It wasn’t loud just three soft taps, deliberate and slow.

“Who is it?” you called, your voice shaking.

No response.

You grabbed a kitchen knife and crept toward the door, your heart pounding. When you peeked through the peephole, all you saw was darkness.

Then your phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number: You shouldn’t be alone.

Your blood ran cold.

Before you could react, the window behind you shattered, and a figure in black vaulted into the room. The scream caught in your throat as the figure lunged at you, pinning you to the floor.

The knife clattered from your hand as you struggled, but it was no use. The figure was too strong, too quick.

“Stop fighting,” the distorted voice said, low and mechanical through the voice modulator. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The masked figure pulled out a knife, holding it to your throat, but he didn’t press down. Instead, he leaned closer, tilting his head as if studying you.

Then, slowly, he removed the mask.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His eyes were wild, his lips curved into a twisted smile. “I told you I’d protect you,” he said, his voice soft but laced with something dark. “I just needed to get rid of the distractions.”

“Distractions?” you echoed, your mind racing as realization hit.

“Topper. JJ. Sarah. They were all in the way. You couldn’t see it, but I did. They didn’t deserve to be near you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you stared at him in horror. “You killed them? All of them?”

“I did it for you,” he said, his tone almost tender. “Don’t you see? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

You shook your head, trying to inch away, but he grabbed your wrists, his grip bruising.

The room was suffocating, the walls closing in as Rafe knelt over you, the Ghostface mask discarded at his side. His wild blue eyes locked onto yours, his breath uneven with exhilaration.

“Let me explain,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with madness. “You don’t understand now, but you will.”

You didn’t want to understand. Every instinct told you to fight, to scream, to do something, but his weight pinned you to the floor, and his manic gaze froze you in place.

“It started with Topper,” Rafe said, as if you’d asked for the story. “That guy was such an idiot, thinking he could push you around at parties, making those crude comments. I hated the way he looked at you.”

Your mind flashed to that night at the beach bonfire, when Topper had made some drunk joke about you being “the hottest Pogue.” You’d brushed it off, but Rafe had been furious, storming off without a word.

“I followed him that night,” Rafe continued, his tone calm, like he was recounting a mundane event. “He didn’t even hear me coming. One quick cut across the throat, and he went down like the pathetic little worm he was.”

You gagged, bile rising in your throat, but Rafe didn’t stop.

“And Sarah,” he said, his lips curling into a sneer. “She was always trying to play the big sister, telling me to leave you alone. She didn’t get it. She thought she could warn you, but she didn’t realize how serious I was.”

Tears blurred your vision as you thought of Sarah her kind smile, the way she’d pulled you aside to warn you about Rafe’s behavior.

“I didn’t want to kill her,” he said, his voice softening, almost regretful. “But she wouldn’t shut up. She was going to ruin everything. So, I took her out by the marsh. She fought hard, you know? Almost made me rethink it. Almost.”

He paused, studying your face as if gauging your reaction. “I made it quick. For her.”

“You’re a monster,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

His eyes darkened, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t say that,” he hissed. “I did this for you. For us. You think I wanted to hurt you? To scare you? I had to. They were all trying to take you away from me.”

“JJ…” you started, your voice trembling.

Rafe grinned, leaning back slightly. “Oh, JJ was fun. He was always so cocky, always acting like he could protect you. I wanted to see him break.”

You remembered the day JJ’s body was found under the pier, the jagged “X” carved into his chest. The image would haunt you forever.

“He begged,” Rafe said, his tone almost giddy now. “He said, ‘Please, don’t do this.’ As if I’d ever listen to him. He didn’t deserve to be near you, Y/N. None of them did.”

“And Kie?” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Rafe’s expression hardened. “Kie was the worst. She thought she was better than everyone, always pretending she was the voice of reason. She was a bad influence on you.”

You felt like you might vomit as he continued.

“She went down easy,” he said with a shrug. “I cornered her after you two said goodbye that night. She didn’t even see it coming. She was so distracted, thinking she could keep you safe. But she didn’t stand a chance.”

Your sobs grew louder, and Rafe’s demeanor shifted. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle despite the horrors he was describing.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “It’s over now. It’s just us. No one else will ever hurt you, or distract you, or take you away from me.”

“You’re insane,” you spat, your voice shaking with equal parts fear and fury.

Rafe chuckled, leaning closer. “Maybe. But I’m also the only one who truly loves you. Don’t you see that? I did all of this for you.”

You stared into his eyes, the weight of his obsession crashing down on you. There was no reasoning with him, no appealing to his humanity. Rafe Cameron wasn’t just insane he was utterly and completely lost to his delusion.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You don’t have to fight this. I’ve already won.”

His arrogance was your opening. Summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you drove your knee upward, catching him off-guard. He grunted, the knife slipping from his hand and skidding across the floor.

You didn’t think you just moved. Scrambling to your feet, you bolted for the door, your heart pounding like a war drum.

“Y/N!” Rafe roared, his voice filled with both fury and disbelief.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you sprinted out into the stormy night, rain pelting your face and blurring your vision. The wind howled around you, carrying Rafe’s voice as he shouted your name.

You stumbled into the woods, branches clawing at your skin as you pushed deeper into the darkness. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your lungs burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not ever.

Behind you, you could hear him crashing through the underbrush, relentless in his pursuit.

“You can’t run from me!” he called, his voice cutting through the rain like a blade. “You’re mine, Y/N! You’ll always be mine!”

————————————————————————

You didn’t know how long you ran, but eventually, you found yourself near the old marina. The boats swayed violently in the storm, their masts creaking like eerie sentinels. Desperation drove you forward as you searched for a hiding place, somewhere anywhere to catch your breath.

You spotted an abandoned boathouse and darted inside, slamming the door behind you. The smell of salt and damp wood filled your nostrils as you collapsed against the wall, your chest heaving.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then came the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Rafe’s voice called out, eerily calm now.

Your heart plummeted as you realized he was inside.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your breathing as you pressed yourself deeper into the shadows.

“I know you’re here,” he said, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. “You think you can hide from me? After everything I’ve done for you?”

He was closer now. Too close.

You glanced around frantically, your eyes landing on a rusted wrench lying on the floor nearby. Gripping it tightly, you prepared yourself. You had no choice.

The moment his shadow appeared in the doorway, you swung. The wrench connected with his shoulder, and he let out a furious snarl, staggering back.

“You really think you can get away from me?” he growled, his eyes blazing with fury.

“I have to try,” you said, your voice shaking but firm.

He lunged, and you ducked, slipping past him and back out into the storm. Your legs screamed in protest, your lungs on fire, but you didn’t stop. Not until you saw the headlights.

A car was coming down the old dirt road, its beams cutting through the darkness like a beacon of hope. You stumbled into the road, waving your arms frantically.

“Help!” you screamed. “Please, help me!”

The car screeched to a halt, and the driver a local you vaguely recognized jumped out.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, but before you could answer, Rafe emerged from the woods, his face twisted in rage.

“Don’t listen to her!” Rafe shouted, his tone switching to something almost pleading. “She’s confused she doesn’t know what she’s saying!”

The driver hesitated, looking between the two of you.

“Please,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “He’s going to kill me!”

That was all it took. The man stepped between you and Rafe, his stance protective.

But Rafe didn’t flinch. He simply smiled.

“Wrong move,” Rafe muttered before pulling a knife from his belt and plunging it into the man’s side.

You screamed as the man crumpled to the ground, his blood mixing with the rain-soaked dirt.

“You see?” Rafe said, turning back to you, his knife dripping red. “There’s no one who can save you. No one who understands you like I do.”

————————————————————————

Days later, you woke up in a strange room, the faint scent of sea air filling your nose. Your wrists were bound, the rope digging into your skin.

Rafe sat in a chair nearby, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice tender. “No one’s going to take you away from me ever again.”

The reality settled over you like a shroud. You had escaped, but only briefly.

And now, there was no escape. Not from him. Not ever.

[bandsofmarv]

Venomous hearts

Mattheo and Theo have both set their sights on you igniting a rivalry.

I might make this a series.

No warnings.

The Slytherin common room was dimly lit, the emerald glow from the fireplace casting an eerie shimmer over the cold, stone walls. You sat in your usual spot by the window, attempting to focus on the Potions essay Snape had assigned, but the atmosphere in the room was far too tense for concentration.

Mattheo Riddle lounged across the couch, his dark eyes locked on you like a predator watching prey. He twirled his wand lazily, but his jaw was clenched, betraying the storm raging beneath his cool exterior. Across the room, Theodore Nott leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His icy blue eyes flicked between you and Mattheo, his expression unreadable yet charged with unspoken challenge.

The tension between them had been brewing for weeks, and you, the unwilling centerpiece of their silent war, were caught in the crossfire.

“Is the essay really that interesting, love?” Mattheo drawled, his voice dripping with a mixture of arrogance and irritation.

You glanced up, trying to ignore the way his lips curved into a smirk, though his eyes held a sharper edge. “Unlike some people, Mattheo, I prefer to pass my classes.”

Theo let out a soft scoff from across the room, drawing both your and Mattheo’s attention. “Maybe she just prefers spending her time with people who don’t treat everything like a game,” he said coolly, his tone a deliberate jab.

Mattheo sat up, his smirk vanishing. “Careful, Theo,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

Theo pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. He looked calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands twitched at his sides. “What are you going to do, Mattheo? Hex me because she’s tired of your theatrics?”

“Guys” you started, but your voice was drowned out by Mattheo’s sudden rise to his feet.

“You don’t get to talk about theatrics, Nott,” Mattheo snarled, his wand now pointed at Theo. “You’ve been circling her like a bloody vulture for months. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Theo didn’t flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, his lips curling into a taunting smile. “And what about you? Acting like you own her, like she’s some prize to be won. That’s not affection, Riddle; that’s obsession.”

Your heart pounded as you stood, placing yourself between them before things escalated further. “Enough! Both of you!”

Mattheo’s eyes flicked to you, softening slightly, but his grip on his wand didn’t loosen. Theo, however, stepped back, though his gaze lingered on you.

“You’re not some pawn in their game, Y/N,” Theo said quietly, his voice laced with an unexpected vulnerability. “You deserve someone who sees you, not someone who uses you to stroke their ego.”

Mattheo scoffed, but you caught the flash of hurt in his expression. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of hero, Theo. We all know you’re no better than me.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension and unsaid words. You looked between them, your heart aching at the pain they both carried, the pain they were now projecting onto you.

“I’m not a prize,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “And I won’t let either of you turn this into a competition. Figure out your own issues before dragging me into them.”

With that, you grabbed your essay and stormed out of the common room, leaving them both behind.

As the door slammed shut, neither Mattheo nor Theo moved. For the first time, they were forced to confront the truth: their feelings for you weren’t just a game, but the scars they’d leave might be too deep to repair.

[bandsofmarv]

Claimed by the devil

Rafe Cameron has always been possessive, but his obsession with you has spiraled into something far darker. When he sees you laughing with JJ Maybank at a party, the thin thread of control he clings to snaps.

TW - obsessive behaviour, jealousy.

Part 2

The party was loud and chaotic, the bass from the music vibrating through the Cameron estate. You were at the bar with JJ, your drink in hand, laughing at one of his stories. It had been so long since you felt at ease since you felt like yourself. JJ’s carefree energy had a way of pulling you out of the shadows, if only for a moment.

But Rafe Cameron didn’t miss anything. Especially when it came to you.

From across the room, Rafe’s sharp blue eyes tracked your every move, the faintest smile on your lips sending a wave of fury through him. That smile was his. Not JJ’s. Not anyone else’s.

He stood in the corner, drink in hand, his knuckles white as he gripped the glass. He didn’t blink as he watched JJ lean closer to you, his hand brushing yours when you handed him your drink.

Rafe’s vision blurred with anger. No one touched what was his.

Before you even realized he was there, Rafe was standing beside you, his hand gripping your waist with bruising force.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his tone deceptively calm but his eyes burning with rage. “You looked a little too comfortable over here.”

You stiffened under his touch, instinctively pulling away. “Rafe, I was just”

“You were just what?” Rafe interrupted, his gaze flicking to JJ with a deadly glare. “Entertaining him?”

JJ raised his hands, stepping back slightly. “Relax, Rafe. We were just talking.”

“Talking,” Rafe sneered, his hand tightening around your waist. “That what you’re calling it now? You’re lucky I didn’t put you through that wall for standing this close to her.”

“Rafe, stop it,” you said, your voice shaking. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t get to tell me to stop,” Rafe snapped, his voice rising. “Do you even hear yourself? Defending him in front of me?”

JJ’s jaw clenched, his usual laid-back demeanor gone. “She doesn’t need to defend me, Cameron,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re out of line.”

Rafe let out a cold laugh, his eyes narrowing. “Out of line? You’re standing here, trying to take what’s mine, and I’m out of line?”

“Rafe, you’re making a scene,” you said, tugging at his arm.

“I don’t give a damn about the scene,” he snapped, his attention laser-focused on JJ. “I care about the fact that this piece of trash thinks he can even breathe the same air as you.”

“Maybe because I’m not treating her like a possession,” JJ shot back, his voice cutting. “Ever think about that, Cameron?”

Rafe’s face twisted with fury, and he lunged forward, shoving JJ hard. “You don’t talk about her like you know her, Pogue. You don’t know a damn thing about what we have.”

“Rafe, stop it!” you cried, stepping between them and pressing your hands against his chest.

But Rafe wasn’t listening. His eyes flicked to you, wild and unhinged. “Why are you protecting him?” he demanded, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation. “You should be here with me, not laughing with him like he means something to you.”

You took a step back, your heart pounding. “Rafe, this is insane. You can’t keep acting like this.”

“I’m acting like this because I care,” he said, his voice softening for just a moment before the anger bled back in. “No one else will protect you the way I do. No one else will love you like I do.”

“You’re not protecting me,” you said, tears filling your eyes. “You’re suffocating me.”

Rafe froze, his face contorting in pain. “Suffocating you? I’ve done everything for you. I’ve fought for you, protected you, and this is what I get? You don’t understand what it’s like to love someone so much that it hurts.”

“I don’t want it to hurt,” you said, your voice breaking.

JJ reached out, grabbing your hand gently and pulling you back. “You don’t have to deal with this, Y/N,” he said softly. “Come with me. You’re not safe with him.”

The moment Rafe saw JJ’s hand on yours, something in him snapped. He grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to his side with a bruising grip.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Rafe said, his voice cold and lethal. “Do you hear me? She’s mine.”

“Let her go,” JJ said, his voice steady but full of warning.

“She doesn’t want to go with you,” Rafe hissed, his grip tightening. “Do you, baby? Tell him. Tell him you’re staying with me.”

You looked at Rafe, his face a mix of fury and desperation, and then at JJ, his steady gaze full of concern and care.

“Rafe…” you started, your voice trembling but Rafe cut you off. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t even think about it. Don’t think for one second that you can walk away from me. You belong to me. You always have.”

The weight of his words crushed you, the possessiveness in his voice sending a chill down your spine. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.

JJ stepped forward, pulling you firmly out of Rafe’s grip. “She doesn’t belong to you, Cameron,” he said, his voice steady. “You need to let her go.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his chest heaving as he glared at JJ. “She’s not leaving me,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “Not now. Not ever.”

But for the first time, you stepped back, your hand in JJ’s. “I can’t do this anymore, Rafe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe’s face twisted with fury and heartbreak, and he took a step toward you. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, his voice trembling. “You think he can love you like I do? No one can. No one will.”

As JJ led you away, Rafe’s voice echoed behind you, a dangerous promise in every word.

“You’ll regret this, Y/N,” he called out. “You’ll come back. You always do.”

But for the first time, you weren’t so sure.

[bandsofmarv]

Something more

You and Bucky have been best friends for years, even sharing an apartment together. When you go on a date with someone new will bucky’s unexpected jealousy lead to confessions.

Warning - none just fluff and angst

The soft glow of the Brooklyn sunset filtered through the curtains of your small apartment as you finished getting ready. The excitement bubbling in your chest was impossible to ignore you hadn’t been on a real date in ages.

“Do I look okay?” you called out, spinning in front of your best friend, Bucky Barnes, who was sitting on your couch, flipping through a magazine he had no real interest in.

Bucky’s steel-blue eyes lifted, and for a moment, he said nothing. His gaze trailed from your shoes to your carefully styled hair, lingering just long enough to make you feel self-conscious.

“You look fine,” he muttered, turning back to the magazine.

“Just fine?” You frowned, smoothing your dress. “Gee, thanks for the glowing review.”

“You’re fishing for compliments now?” he shot back with a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your purse. “Don’t wait up.”

“Who’s this guy again?” Bucky asked casually, though his tone carried an edge you couldn’t miss.

“His name’s Kyle. We met at the coffee shop,” you explained. “He’s really nice. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

Bucky grunted in response, and you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened. But you didn’t press it. He’d been acting weird since you told him about the date, but you chalked it up to his usual overprotectiveness.

————————————————————————

The date was fine. Kyle was sweet, charming even, but you couldn’t help the way your mind kept drifting—to Bucky. His lopsided grin when he teased you, the way he always remembered your coffee order, the rare moments when he let his guard down and let you see the vulnerable man beneath the super-soldier exterior.

By the time Kyle walked you to your door, you knew your heart wasn’t in it. You thanked him politely, dodging a goodnight kiss with a friendly hug, and stepped inside.

Bucky was still there.

He was sitting in the same spot on the couch, but his magazine was abandoned, and his metal hand was tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. His head snapped up when you entered, and he stood quickly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Back already?”

“Yeah,” you said, slipping off your heels. “It was… nice.”

“Nice, huh?” He scoffed, his jaw clenching again. “That why you’re home so early?”

You frowned, dropping your purse on the counter. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” He stepped closer, his voice rising slightly. “You go out with some guy you barely know, and I’m supposed to just sit here and be okay with it?”

You stared at him, taken aback. “Why wouldn’t you be okay with it? You’re my best friend, Bucky. You’re supposed to be supportive.”

“Best friend,” he repeated bitterly, running a hand through his hair. “Is that all I am to you?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”

He sighed, the frustration and jealousy etched on his face melting into something softer, more vulnerable. “I’m talking about the fact that seeing you with someone else makes me feel like I’m gonna lose my damn mind. That I can’t stand the thought of you looking at him the way I wish you’d look at me.”

“Bucky…”

“I know I should’ve said something sooner,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “But I was scared. Scared of ruining what we have. Scared you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Your chest tightened, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you deserve someone good,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “And I wasn’t sure I’d ever be good enough for you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face. “Bucky, you idiot. You’ve always been good enough.”

His breath hitched, his hands hovering hesitantly at your waist as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Does that mean?”

“Yes,” you said, cutting him off with a smile. “It means yes.”

Relief and something deeper flooded his expression as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I waited so long.”

“Just don’t make me wait any longer,” you whispered, and before you could second-guess yourself, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, years of unspoken feelings pouring into the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he grinned the boyish, lopsided grin you’d always loved.

“Guess I owe Kyle a thank-you,” he joked, and you laughed, swatting his arm. “Shut up and kiss me again, Barnes.”

And he did, making up for all the lost time.

[bandsofmarv]

Mine to keep

After a tense mission, Bucky’s jealousy boils over.

TW- very smutty, jealousy and possessiveness

The mission had gone sideways, but that wasn’t what had Bucky Barnes fuming. It was the way you’d laughed, soft and sweet, at Sam’s jokes over comms. The way Sam had gotten a little too close when patching up a scrape on your arm.

He knew he was being ridiculous. He knew better than to let the spiraling thoughts take hold. But when he saw you smile at Sam like that—like he was the center of your world something in him cracked wide open.

You didn’t notice his storm-cloud mood until you all made it back to the safehouse. While Sam prepped dinner in the kitchen, you cornered Bucky in the small, dimly lit living room.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” you demanded, crossing your arms. “You’ve been glaring daggers at me and Sam all day. Did I do something wrong?”

He stared at you, blue eyes dark and wild. “Wrong?” he repeated, voice low and dangerous. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Except maybe drive me insane.”

Your brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

He took a step closer, the air between you crackling with tension. “Do you have any idea what it does to me, watching you laugh with him? Watching him touch you?” His jaw clenched, his metal hand flexing at his side. “It makes me want to tear the whole damn world apart.”

You blinked, stunned into silence. “Bucky, Sam’s just—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, voice rough with emotion. “I don’t care if it’s Sam or anyone else. You’re mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone should have made you angry. Instead, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yours?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper.

His hand shot out, cradling your jaw with surprising gentleness given the storm raging in his eyes. “Yeah,” he growled. “Mine. Say it.”

Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “I’m yours,” you murmured, the admission setting a fire in his gaze.

Something in him snapped. His lips crashed against yours, devouring you with a hunger that left you gasping. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt, pulling you flush against him.

“Say it again,” he demanded against your lips, his voice rough and ragged.

“I’m yours,” you moaned, the words turning into a gasp as his mouth moved to your neck, his teeth scraping against your pulse point.

Before you knew it, he had you pinned against the wall, his metal arm braced beside your head while his flesh hand slid beneath your shirt, palming the soft skin of your waist. He tore the fabric over your head in one swift motion, his eyes darkening as they roamed over your bare skin.

“You’re perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with reverence and need.

He leaned in, his lips brushing over the swell of your breast before wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, and your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him closer.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your hips pressing against his.

The sound of his name on your lips seemed to unravel him. With a low growl, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the couch. His hands roamed your body as he laid you down, his lips trailing fire along your skin.

Clothes disappeared in a blur his shirt ripped over his head, his pants kicked to the floor, leaving you both bare and exposed. His body was solid, his metal arm cool against your heated skin as he hovered over you, his gaze searching yours.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

You reached up, cupping his face as you pulled him down for a kiss. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all he needed. He slid a hand between your thighs, his fingers finding you warm and ready for him. His touch was gentle at first, teasing, until you arched into him, desperate for more.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, your voice trembling with need.

He groaned, his control snapping as he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you in a way that left you breathless.

“God, you feel so good,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours as he filled you completely.

He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, before pulling back and thrusting into you again, harder this time. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his metal hand gripping your hip to keep you steady as he pounded into you. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you cried, the words breaking as pleasure built to a fever pitch.

“That’s right,” he rasped, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. “Only mine.”

His hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that sent you spiraling. The pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body tightening around him as you came undone, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The sensation of you trembling beneath him pushed him over the edge. With a low, guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his body shaking as he followed you into bliss.

For a long moment, the only sound was your mingled breaths as he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. His hand brushed over your hair, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses to your temple.

“You’re mine,” he murmured one last time, his voice a mix of possessiveness and tenderness.

And in that moment, you knew you always would be.

[bandsofmarv]

Mine to keep

Bucky can no longer hold in his jealous and possessive side and finally claims you.

TW- Heavy smut, bucky angst , jealousy, possessive behaviour. Kinda long.

Side note // I’m also take requests of any character / theme.

Bucky’s blood had been boiling all night. Steve, the perfect All-American golden boy, basking in your attention, your laugh lighting up every damn corner of the bar. And Steve wasn’t even trying he never had to. But that didn’t make it easier to watch.

Bucky’s drink sat untouched as he leaned against the bar, his jaw tight and his metal fingers twitching with restraint. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up his spine every time you smiled at Steve.

When Steve finally stepped away to grab another round, Bucky didn’t hesitate. He pushed off the bar and cut through the crowd, his determined strides carrying him straight to you.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice light and playful.

Bucky didn’t return the smile. His eyes were dark, fixed on yours as he crowded into your space. “Having fun?” His voice was a low growl, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, confused by the tension radiating off him. “Uh, yeah? It’s been nice to catch up with everyone. Steve’s been…”

“Yeah, Steve’s been the life of the party,” Bucky interrupted, his voice tight.

Your brow furrowed. “Are you jealous?”

Bucky’s jaw flexed. “Damn right I am.” His metal hand curled into a fist against his thigh. “Watching him make you laugh like that? Watching you light up for him? You’re mine.”

The intensity in his voice sent a bolt of heat straight through you, your stomach flipping at the raw emotion behind his words. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

————————————————————————

The second your apartment door shut behind you, Bucky had you pinned against it. His lips crashed onto yours, hungry and demanding, his metal hand gripping your hip to hold you in place.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. “Sitting there looking so goddamn perfect, laughing at his jokes like you don’t know you belong to me.”

“I—” Your protest was cut off as he kissed you again, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim you. His flesh hand slid down to your thigh, hitching it around his hip to grind his hard length against you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

His lips curled into a dark smirk as he lifted you off the ground, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, his hands already tugging at your clothes with a mix of urgency and reverence.

“Bucky,” you murmured, your breath hitching as his hands both flesh and metal explored your body, pulling away your layers one by one.

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your bare skin as he worked. “I’ve got you. Just let me show you.”

When he finally had you naked beneath him, he sat back for a moment, his eyes raking over you with undisguised hunger. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking beautiful. All mine.”

He didn’t wait for a response. His mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point before he kissed his way down your body. His lips and tongue left a trail of fire in their wake, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open for him.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice dark and commanding. “I want everyone to know who’s making you feel this good.” And then his mouth was on you, his tongue sliding against your heat with practiced precision. You cried out, your hips bucking against him as he licked and sucked, his metal hand pinning you to the bed while his flesh hand teased your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pressure built quickly, your body arching as his tongue drove you higher and higher. Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot.

“Bucky!” you gasped, your body shattering around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He didn’t stop, working you through your orgasm until you were trembling beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening as he smirked down at you.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, his voice rough with need.

He stripped off his clothes, his muscular frame glinting in the low light of the room. His cock stood hard and ready, and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

He climbed over you, his hands bracketing your face as he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Turn over,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, rolling onto your stomach as he positioned himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up onto your knees before he slid into you with one smooth thrust.

The stretch was perfect, and you moaned loudly, your hands fisting in the sheets as he set a punishing pace.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his metal hand sliding up your back to grip the nape of your neck. “So tight, so perfect. All mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear. “I’ll never let you forget it.”

His thrusts grew faster, deeper, his cock hitting that perfect spot with every stroke. Your pleasure built quickly, and you felt yourself spiraling toward another release.

“Come for me,” he growled, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “Let me feel you.”

The command sent you over the edge, your body clenching around him as your second orgasm tore through you. Bucky groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release following moments later.

You collapsed onto the bed together, your bodies slick with sweat and your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Bucky pulled you into his arms, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less certain.

“Always,” you whispered, your heart full as you melted into his embrace.

[bandsofmarv]

Future, past and present.

Struggling with adjusting to the new timeline. He meets someone new. Logan slowly begins to trust you, he realises that maybe just maybe this new timeline offers him something he thought he could never have: a second chance, and someone to share it with.

TW - not really any, fluff and angst, smut.

The cabin smelled of pinewood and faint traces of whiskey, the air heavy with a history Logan could never escape. It was quiet—too quiet for his liking. For someone used to chaos, peace was like a loaded gun: unpredictable and waiting to go off.

You, however, had brought that damned sunshine into his life. From the moment you had breezed into his space—too bright, too warm, too alive—Logan had been trying not to crack under the weight of your presence.

But you weren’t easy to ignore.

“Logan,” you called softly, your voice lilting as you stepped into the room. You carried a mug of steaming coffee, its rich aroma cutting through his brooding haze. “You’ve been staring out that window for hours.”

He grunted. “Maybe I like the view.”

You smiled, leaning against the counter, watching him with that unshakable optimism that made his chest ache. He didn’t deserve you—hell, he didn’t deserve much of anything. Not after all the bloodshed, all the lives lost on his watch.

“I’d believe that,” you teased, “if you weren’t scowling at it like it owes you money.”

He glanced over at you, the corner of his mouth twitching in something that could almost be called a smirk. “What do you want, darlin’?”

“Breakfast? Company?” You stepped closer, unfazed by the storm brewing in his eyes. “You can’t keep shutting me out, Logan.”

“I ain’t shutting you out,” he said gruffly, though the words felt like a lie. The truth was, you had wormed your way past his defenses before he’d even realized it. Your kindness grated against his jagged edges, smoothing them in ways that scared the hell out of him.

You placed the mug on the table in front of him and sat down, propping your chin on your hands as you stared up at him. “If you say so.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, the silence stretching between you like an old wound. Finally, he sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of years. “I’m just… not used to this.”

“This?” you prompted.

Logan ran a hand through his thick, graying hair, his jaw clenching as he searched for the right words. You didn’t press him, though the concern in your eyes was enough to chip away at his defenses. He wasn’t good at talking about this—about anything, really—but if anyone deserved an explanation, it was you.

“This… timeline,” he started, his voice rough, “it’s not where I came from. Where I was…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the mug of coffee in front of him, fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “It was hell. And I ain’t using that word lightly.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t interrupt. You just waited, patient as always, letting him find his way through the storm.

“Everyone was gone,” he said finally, the words quieter now, like they were being dragged from the deepest part of him. “Most of ‘em dead. Mutants… wiped out. Charles…” He paused, swallowing hard. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him. None of ‘em did.”

You watched him carefully, your heart aching at the cracks in his usually impenetrable exterior. You’d heard whispers about his past, about what he’d been through, but he’d never opened up like this before.

“They relied on me,” Logan continued, his voice gaining an edge of bitterness. “And I failed them. Over and over again. I survived, sure, but what the hell was the point? Just to watch it all burn?”

“That wasn’t your fault,” you said gently, your voice soft but steady. “You did the best you could.”

Logan’s laugh was short and humorless. “Yeah, well, my ‘best’ didn’t stop the world from falling apart.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. His skin was rough and scarred, but you squeezed gently, grounding him. “You’re here now, Logan. In a world where they’re alive, where you can make things right. That has to count for something.”

He looked at your hand over his, then up at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into the shell he kept so tightly around himself. But instead, he turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with yours.

“It’s not easy,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Being here, pretending like I don’t see the ghosts of what I lost every damn day.”

“I know it’s not,” you said, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “But you don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore.”

Logan stared at you, something flickering in his eyes—something raw, vulnerable, and so deeply buried you almost didn’t catch it. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he let the smallest sliver of that sunshine you carried seep into the cracks of his broken world.

“Guess I don’t,” he said, his voice softer now, as though the weight of his confession had lightened just a little.

You smiled, warmth radiating from you like a beacon in the dark. “Not as long as I’m around, old man.”

Logan huffed out a breath that could have been a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re too good for this world, darlin’.”

“And you’re too stubborn to admit you deserve it.” His hand tightened around yours. For once, he didn’t argue.

Logan’s grip on your hand tightened as his gaze lingered on your face, his usual stormy eyes softening, just for a moment. Something in the air shifted, the weight of his grief replaced by something electric, something that hummed between the two of you. You felt his thumb stroke the back of your hand—tentative, almost unsure—and when your lips parted to speak, he surprised you.

Logan leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was fierce, desperate, and utterly consuming. It wasn’t graceful—nothing with Logan ever was—but it was real, raw, and filled with the kind of hunger that made your heart race.

You gasped against his lips as he pulled you into his lap, his hands finding your hips and grounding himself in the warmth of your body. “You sure about this, darlin’?” he growled, his voice rough and gravelly as he searched your eyes.

Your answer was a soft moan as you kissed him back, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging, eliciting a low rumble from his chest. “I’ve never been more sure,” you whispered, breathless, your lips brushing against his.

Logan didn’t need more convincing. His hands slipped under your shirt, calloused palms exploring the soft curves of your waist. He groaned as his lips trailed down your neck, teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you arch against him. Every touch, every kiss, was a testament to how much he’d been holding back, how deeply he craved you.

By the time he carried you to his bed, the quiet cabin was filled with the sounds of your shared desire. His kisses grew slower, more deliberate, as he explored every inch of you like a man trying to memorize something precious. His scars brushed against your skin, but you didn’t shy away. Instead, you welcomed him, showing him with every touch that he was safe here, with you.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky as he took in the sight of you beneath him, your body bathed in the dim light of the room. His hands roamed your curves, his lips following, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

You pulled him closer, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, marveling at his strength and vulnerability. “Logan,” you gasped, the sound of his name on your lips driving him wild. He groaned as he finally gave in, his movements slow but intense, savoring the way your body responded to his.

It wasn’t just about lust—it was more. In every kiss, every touch, there was a depth of emotion that neither of you had dared to voice before. He wasn’t just claiming your body; he was baring his soul, trusting you with the broken pieces of himself.

And as the night stretched on, Logan finally allowed himself to let go, to let you in, and to believe—if only for a moment—that he might deserve this happiness after all.

[bandsofmarv]

Shattered shield

After discovering Steve’s betrayal, your world falls apart. Heartbroken and doubting yourself, you find solace in the most unexpected place…Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend. You realise that the love you’ve been searching for has been with Bucky all along.

Possible TW - cheating, smut, betrayal.

You never thought you’d find yourself here—sitting alone in the quiet darkness of your apartment, the remnants of your relationship with Steve Rogers crumbling around you. You’d trusted him, believed in him, but that trust had been shattered the moment you caught him with someone else. Someone who wasn’t you.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be enough. But the broken pieces of your heart told a different story.

The sound of a knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You frowned, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you stood. It was late, and you weren’t expecting anyone. But when you opened the door, you found Bucky Barnes standing there, his steel-blue eyes filled with concern.

“Bucky,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”

“Steve told me,” he said simply, his voice low. “What happened.” Of course, he had. Steve and Bucky were best friends—brothers, even. It made sense that he’d turn to Bucky, though the thought sent a pang of resentment through you.

“Came to check on you,” Bucky continued, his gaze sweeping over your tear-stained face. “You okay?”

You stepped aside, letting him in without a word. He shut the door behind him, the weight of his presence filling the room as you sank back onto the couch.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Bucky scoffed, taking a seat across from you. “You’re a terrible liar, doll.”

You managed a weak smile, but it quickly faded as the silence settled between you. Bucky’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Steve screwed up. Big time.”

“I thought I was enough for him,” you whispered, your throat tightening with the weight of your heartbreak. “But I wasn’t.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, his tone firm as he moved to sit beside you. “That’s not on you. That’s on him. Don’t ever think you weren’t enough, because you are.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. You looked up at him, and for the first time, you noticed the intensity in his gaze, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. It was a stark contrast to Steve’s wandering eyes.

“I don’t know how to feel,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I’m angry. Hurt. But most of all, I feel stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Bucky said, his hand brushing against yours. His touch was warm, grounding. “You loved him. You gave him everything. That’s not stupid—that’s brave.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face again. Bucky pulled you into his arms without hesitation, holding you as you cried into his chest. His embrace was strong, steady, and for the first time in days, you felt safe.

——————————————————————

Weeks passed, and Bucky was there for you every step of the way. He never pushed, never asked for more than you could give. But the way he looked at you, the way he made you laugh when you thought you’d forgotten how—it all made your heart ache in a different way.

One night, you found yourself alone with him again, this time at his apartment. He’d invited you over for dinner, and you’d accepted, grateful for the distraction. But as the night wore on, the tension between you became impossible to ignore.

“Bucky,” you said softly, setting your glass of wine down. “Why are you doing all this?”

He frowned, leaning back in his chair. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been there for me, more than anyone else. Why?” Your voice trembled as you met his gaze. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t you get it, doll?” he said, his voice raw. “I’m not doing this because I owe you. I’m doing it because I care about you.”

Your breath hitched, and he stood, crossing the room to kneel in front of you. His metal hand rested on your knee, while his flesh hand cupped your cheek.

“I’ve cared about you for a long time,” he admitted, his eyes searching yours. “But you were with Steve, and I’d never do that to him. But now…”

“Bucky,” you whispered, your heart racing.

“If this is too much, tell me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and filled with unspoken longing. Bucky responded immediately, his hands pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

“Are you sure about this?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with restraint.

“More sure than I’ve ever been,” you said, your fingers tangling in his hair.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom as his lips claimed yours again. The air was charged with a mix of desperation and tenderness as he laid you down, his hands exploring your body with reverence.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “The way you deserve.”

And in that moment, you knew he meant it. Bucky wasn’t just a rebound or a distraction—he was your future.

[bandsofmarv]

Off limits

It started with stolen glances, moments that lingered too long, and feelings that both of you tried—and failed—to bury. Bucky Barnes was your dad’s best friend, and the unspoken rule between you was simple: don’t cross the line.

But rules were made to be broken.

TW - smut, angst, age gap , DBF

The cabin was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fireplace. Your dad had stepped out to grab supplies, leaving you alone with Bucky. The tension in the room was suffocating, the kind that had been brewing between you for years. Every stolen glance, every accidental brush of his hand, had built up to this moment.

You sat curled up on the couch, trying to focus on the book in your lap, but your eyes kept drifting to Bucky. He sat across the room, nursing a glass of whiskey, his metal hand resting on his thigh as he stared into the flames. He looked every bit as tortured as you felt, his jaw tight, his shoulders tense.

“Stop staring, doll,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

You flushed, snapping your gaze back to the book. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he said, his tone softer now. “And it’s gonna get us both in trouble.”

You closed the book with a sigh, setting it aside. “Why is it always about trouble with you, Bucky?”

His gaze finally met yours, and the intensity in his steel-blue eyes made your breath hitch. “Because this—” he gestured between the two of you, “—is a bad idea.”

“Why?” you challenged, standing up and crossing the room to stand in front of him. “Because my dad wouldn’t approve? Because you think you’re too old for me?”

He looked away, his jaw clenching. “Both.”

You knelt in front of him, placing your hands on his knees. “What if I don’t care?”

Bucky’s metal hand twitched, his fingers curling into a fist as he fought to keep himself in check. “You should care, sweetheart. I’m not the guy you think I am.”

“You’re exactly the guy I think you are,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his. “You’re kind, loyal, and you’ve been there for me more times than I can count. You’re not some monster, Bucky. You’re… you.”

He let out a shaky breath, his head dropping forward. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, doll.”

“Then show me,” you whispered, leaning closer.

Bucky’s resolve crumbled. He reached out, his metal hand brushing your cheek as his flesh hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you toward him. His lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrelenting, like he’d been starving for this moment.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as he deepened the kiss. His hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. You could feel the hard press of him beneath you, and it sent a thrill racing through you.

“Bucky,” you breathed as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. “If this is too much, just say the word.”

But you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, your hands fisting in his shirt.

That was all the permission he needed. His hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch both rough and gentle as he explored your skin. His metal hand was cool against your heated flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

You arched into his touch, your breath coming in short gasps as he pulled your shirt over your head. His lips returned to yours, hungry and possessive, as his hands roamed your body, igniting every nerve ending.

“Bucky,” you moaned, your hips grinding against him.

He groaned, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you said, your voice trembling with need.

His control snapped. He stood, carrying you effortlessly to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his gaze dark and filled with want as he hovered over you.

“This might ruin everything,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t stay away from you anymore.”

“Then don’t,” you said, pulling him down to you. In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the rules, not the consequences. All that mattered was him.

[bandsofmarv]

Wild and soft

Grumpy age gap Logan howlett

TW - smut , angst , age gap.

The bar was noisy, filled with the chatter of locals and the occasional crash of a pool cue against the floor. You sat at a small table in the corner, sipping a drink and trying not to grin too much at the scowl etched on Logan’s face.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest, the dim light catching the lines of his rugged features. He looked like a storm cloud ready to burst, his usual gruffness on full display.

“You’re staring,” he muttered, his voice a low growl.

“Can’t help it,” you replied with a cheerful shrug. “You’re fun to look at.” Logan gave you a pointed glare. “You know, most people try not to piss me off.”

“Most people aren’t me,” you quipped, taking another sip of your drink. You weren’t scared of him. Sure, Logan was intimidating—growly, gruff, and built like a tank—but you’d learned pretty quickly that beneath the tough exterior, he had a soft spot. Especially for you.

“Remind me why I put up with you again?” he grumbled, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Because you secretly like me,” you teased, leaning forward with a grin.

Logan huffed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re grumpy,” you shot back. “Guess we make a good pair.”

The age gap between you had been a point of contention when you first met. Logan had tried to push you away, insisting you deserved someone younger, someone who hadn’t been through as much darkness as he had. But you were nothing if not persistent, and eventually, he’d stopped fighting it. Stopped fighting you.

Now, here you were—his sunshine to his storm cloud.

“C’mon, Logan,” you said, tilting your head. “Let’s play pool. I promise not to beat you too badly.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You? Beat me? Don’t get cocky, kid.”

You smirked, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the pool table. He didn’t resist, though he grumbled under his breath about your stubbornness.

As you set up the game, Logan stood behind you, watching with a predatory gaze that made your heart race. His presence was magnetic, and you were hyper-aware of the way his body radiated heat, the way his hands clenched and unclenched like he was holding himself back.

“You gonna stare all night, or are you gonna play?” you teased, glancing over your shoulder.

Logan stepped closer, his voice a low rumble. “Careful, darlin’. You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned,” you shot back, your voice softer now.

His eyes darkened, and before you could blink, he was right behind you, his hands bracing on the table on either side of you. You froze, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You should be,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Logan,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

He turned you around in one swift motion, pinning you against the edge of the table. His hands were firm on your waist, his grip possessive, and his eyes burned into yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“Been tryin’ to hold back,” he admitted, his voice rough. “But you make it real hard, sweetheart.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt. “Then stop holding back.”

That was all it took. Logan’s lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. You kissed him back with just as much intensity, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted you onto the table.

His mouth left yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that made you gasp. His hands roamed your body, rough and calloused, but his touch was surprisingly gentle, like he was afraid of breaking you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he growled, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Logan,” you repeated, your nails digging into his shoulders as his hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“Mine,” he muttered against your skin, his voice raw with possession. “You’re mine, darlin’.

I smiled in content. I could get used to this.

[bandsofmarv]

Cold to the touch

Enemies to lovers Bucky x reader

TW - smut, angst

Part 2

The compound was unusually quiet, except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. You sat at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea, hoping the caffeine would get you through another tense morning.

It wasn’t the missions, the training, or even the threat of constant danger that drained you. No, it was him.

Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. Resident pain in your ass.

You had been forced to work together on Steve’s orders, a new partnership meant to “strengthen the team dynamic.” Instead, it had only strengthened your resolve to avoid him at all costs. Bucky was cold, distant, and maddeningly closed off. And worse, he seemed to go out of his way to make your life hell.“Up early, huh?” His voice, low and gravelly, startled you out of your thoughts. Speak of the devil.

You turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. He looked as stoic as ever, but there was a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral.

He shrugged, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until he broke it.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” It wasn’t a question.

You blinked at him, surprised by his directness. “Not everything is about you, Barnes.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure this is,” he said, turning to face you fully. His gaze was sharp, assessing, like he was trying to read your mind. “What’s your problem with me, anyway?”

“My problem?” You laughed bitterly, setting your mug down with a clink. “You’re arrogant, impossible to talk to, and you act like the whole world owes you something.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, the faintest crack in his icy exterior. “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“And whose fault is that?” you shot back. “You don’t let anyone in. You’re like a damn wall.”

He took a step closer, his steel-blue eyes burning into yours. “Maybe I don’t let people in because I know how it ends. People like you—they don’t stick around when things get messy.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, cutting through your anger like a blade. For a moment, you saw the man beneath the armor, the one haunted by a past he couldn’t escape.

“That’s not fair,” you said softly, your tone losing its edge. “You don’t get to push people away and then blame them for not trying.”

Bucky stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he closed the distance between you, his metal hand bracing on the counter beside you.

“Why do you care, anyway?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why not just walk away?”

Your breath hitched as his proximity sent a shiver down your spine. His scent, a mix of leather and something distinctly him, filled your senses, making it impossible to think straight.

“Maybe I’m just stubborn,” you said, your voice shaking slightly.

He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Stubborn enough to take a chance on someone like me?”

You didn’t have time to answer. Bucky’s lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrelenting, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long. You gasped against his mouth, your hands flying to his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

He made the decision for you. His flesh hand slid to your waist, tugging you against him as his metal fingers traced up your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His kiss was messy, full of teeth and hunger, but it was exactly what you needed.

“Bucky,” you breathed when his lips left yours to trail down your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his breath hot against your skin. “If you want me to, tell me now.” But you didn’t. Instead, you pulled him closer, threading your fingers through his hair as his hands roamed, exploring every inch of you like he was memorizing it.

“Hard to love, huh?” you murmured, your voice teasing despite the breathlessness.

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea.”

And then he kissed you again, and for the first time, you thought maybe you were willing to find out.