Never got over you (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Part 3

Present.

Tears still hadn't come, she was zoned out as she stared at the door in front of her. Then at the chest in front of her as it opened.

(Y/n) shifted the strap of the bag and looked up at the man in front of her, her brain having to do a double take.

A piece of her mind that was still functioning recognized that that was Bucky Barnes, all tall and broad and more muscled than she remembered him, still a perfect specimen of deliciousness.

Oh, those strong arms should wrap around her, those soft looking lips, she needed them on hers, those beautiful eyes- she still thought of them in the middle of the night, they had been in her mind when she had been with her boyfriend -er, ex-boyfriend- and her apparent lousiness in bed had caused no pleasure to be had, and after Jason had finished, when she'd snuck into the bathroom to get a little release of her own. They were the ones she thought of staring into hers when she turned on the erotic podcast she'd found, listening to the man's amazing voice as she brought herself to orgasm to the stories he weaved around her.

He turned back into the house, calling angrily over his shoulder for Steve, and she noticed that his hand on the doorway to block her out was shiny, it looked like it was metal, and the working part of her brain filed that info away.

Steve came to the door, pushing Bucky's arm out of the way and wrapped his hand around her forearm, pulling her into the living room off through a doorway in the entrance hallway.

Bucky glared as he closed the door and followed, watching Steve take her bag from her and set it on the floor in front of the couch against the far wall, on the other side of his reclining armchair, pushing her back to sit on the couch.

His glare was trained on her, listening as Steve asked if she was ok, reassured her that she was safe here, that everything would be ok, and that he'd call her the next day to check on her again when he got to his new base.

Her eyes were trained on the floor at Steve's feet were he crouched in front of her, and she wasn't reacting to anything, just staring.

Steve stood and turned to see a dark cloud surrounding Bucky in the doorway. "Can I talk to you, Steve?" He asked, and Steve followed him to the kitchen. "She can't stay here."

"Why not, you said she could-"

"I didn't know it was her," Bucky spat. "(Y/n), she can't stay here."

"Bucky, she has nowhere to go-"

"Not my problem."

"You have four rooms-"

"No room for her."

"Bucky," Steve sternly said his name. "She has nowhere to go and you have four rooms in this huge farmhouse. She has whatever is in that gym bag, and I'm sure not much else. Her home burnt down. She told me she just lost her boyfriend, too. She has had a rough day. You should know about rough days."

"So you're comparing getting my arm blown off to losing your boyfriend and having your house burn down?" Bucky demanded as he flexed his metal hand at Steve.

"I was talking about the nightmares," he corrected.

"So then you're comparing PTSD to losing your boyfriend and having your house burn down," Bucky growled.

"You know I'm not. Just that you feel wiped after the nightmares, and, I'd imagine, how that can make you feel like things aren't going your way. Bucky- I don't know what the hell happened between the two of you, but she is a friend in need right now. She only needs help until she gets a new place. Are you saying that you can't put whatever happened aside for two weeks? You saw her; she's in shock, Buck! She'd probably not notice she was walking off a cliff if you pointed her at one and told her to walk."