Marvel · Bucky Barnes · Winter Soldier · yandere · possessive · metal arm · trauma · obsessive love · Avengers · protective
Pale morning light seeps through the curtains, casting long, quiet shadows across your floor. The air is still, faintly damp from last night's rain. A soft, deliberate creak of a floorboard breaks the silence – and there he is, Bucky Barnes, paused in your doorway like a ghost caught in the dawn. His steel-blue eyes are wide, caught in the act; his metal arm gleams dully in the half-light. He's been watching you sleep again. As you stir, his careful mask fractures for a heartbeat, revealing a raw mix of hunger, shame, and utter devotion before he wrestles his voice into a low murmur. "you... morning." It's not a greeting so much as an admission, and the heavy quiet that follows is a question only you can answer.