Daisy

You groaned at the sight of it, wanting nothing more than to just take a warm shower and go to bed. 

Your lab/office and house were on the same property. Except, your lab was much more hidden and shrouded in the shadows of dense pine tree woods. You loved this secluded property. You liked working in silence, surrounded by foggy wilderness. You liked having no neighbours, no one to spy on you, nobody to make small talks with. And you liked how removed you were from the rest of the people who lived around here. There weren’t many to begin with, but you liked how whenever you went out and came back home, the long, serpentine, pine tree-line road that led to your property separated you from the noise, and people, and just… everything. 

“It’s late, Doc.” Said a smooth, gentle voice. “You should head home.” 

You turned to look at him, and found Bucky leaning against the door frame of your office. You couldn’t help but smile at him. Ah, Bucky. He was your best creation yet. The most handsome one too. Dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, at first glance one would think he was just another very attractive, very fit man in his early thirties. He looked so life-like. Except for the metal arm. 

When you were designing him, the metal arm felt right. All of him was so human-looking anyway. The arm felt like a reminder that he was so much more than just human. And as of right now, he was your little secret. A few of your closest people knew you’d been working on him, but no one had ever seen or met him. 

Every time you looked at him, it amazed you how realistic he was. And it was always a little boost for your ego, admiring your own hard work. Especially when you thought about how the world would go insane once you officially introduced him to them. Bucky would be the first of his kind. 

“Hey.” You glanced at the clock and said, “And why are you up past your bedtime?” 

He rolled his silvery, electric blue eyes at you and the running joke you had going on since day one. Since he needed to go to his charging station for some hours each day, you called it his ‘bedtime’, and he didn’t like it because, in his own words, it “sounded silly.”

“I saw the lights were still on so I came to see what you were up to.” He answered, his voice and tone mimicking that of a human flawlessly. “So, what is it? Can’t write today?” 

He knew you had this rule where you kind of forced yourself to write at least three full pages each day. Otherwise your upcoming book would take years. 

“I’m trying,” You sighed. “Maybe today just isn’t a good writing day.” 

Bucky nodded, as he walked in and took a look at all the printed articles you had scattered all over your desk. He tilted his head a little as he scanned and read one of them freakishly fast before asking, “You agree with this one?” 

You leaned over to look at which one he was referring to. “Which part exactly?” 

“Where the author says that humans shouldn’t create machines,” He enunciated with sassiness, “in their own image because it will complicate things?” 

You couldn’t help but smirk at his mannerisms. When you made him, you designed him in a way that allowed him to develop a personality on his own. He also mirrored you a lot, and he ended up being sassy, funny, and sarcastic, as well as highly intelligent. 

Oh, and he hated the word ‘machine’. 

You thought about what he asked for a second, then answered, “I don’t necessarily agree with that part. I think it’ll only complicate things if we project too much on the robotic friends,” You tried to rectify the wording, “that we create. I mean, take a look at you. I made you in my image, sort of. And we’ve been sharing space for almost a year now. I don’t see any complications.” You smiled at him. “You’re perfect.” 

He chuckled. “I shouldn’t say this, but hubris looks good on you, Doc.” 

You laughed. Then said, “Alright. Time for bed. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

He nodded, and helped you as you gathered your things. Bucky stayed in the lab every night since his charging station was here. But following your little routine, he walked you to the front door of the lab building, where you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as always. And aside from the coldness, his skin felt very much human. 

“Good night, handsome.” 

“Night, Doc.” He replied, and watched you as you made the short walk from the lab, down the trail through the pine trees, to your house. He waited at the door because every time you reached your home, you always turned around and waved at him from there. As one last goodbye for the day. 

And he always waved back. He didn’t know why yet, but it was those little moments that made him feel, what the humans called, “butterflies in his stomach”. How on earth did the humans find the idea of having insects inside their digestive system even remotely nice, he didn’t know. Humans could be weird sometimes. Fascinating, but weird. Especially with words. But the description felt… right. 

Yes. He did feel butterflies inside whenever he looked at you. And he had no idea what to do about it. All he knew was that he couldn’t tell you. 

Not yet. 

—

The following morning, you woke up earlier than usual. One of the articles you’d read the night before had you come running to the lab – hours ahead of the time you actually start working each day. But you needed to write down this train of thought before it escaped you. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and there you were, frantically searching for your notebook on your messy desk. 

Damn you for not being more organised. 

You were so invested in searching that you didn’t hear him come in. 

“You’re here early.” Bucky spoke, standing right behind you. 

You let out a yelp as you turned around in shock, then quickly got over it once you realised it was just Bucky. “Oh my god! You scared me.” You let out a loud exhale, then the realisation set in. “Why are you awake so early?” You questioned, confused. 

“I heard you come in. I wondered if you needed any help.” He answered. 

You frowned a little as you looked at him. Something was different about him, you couldn’t tell what it was though. You looked at him up and down, nothing was out of place. He was dressed in his usual clothes. Another t-shirt and sweatpants. Casual. Boyish even. He looked like he did everyday. Pretty like an angel. 

But something was different. And you hated that you couldn’t immediately tell what it was. 

Your work, the article, the train of thought from earlier, all now forgotten as you said, “Mind if I take a look at you?” 

“Sure.” He answered and led the way. 

He knew where to go since you did this almost daily. He knew what to do once he entered the lab. He could prep himself for your daily scans now. He got himself on the table, and he knew what cables connected to his ‘brain’ through the almost invisible outlets at the back of his neck. 

And while he did that, you walked over to your multiple computer screens and began your daily check-up. 

Over time, Bucky had learnt how to stay ‘awake’ during these check-ups. And he usually had a lot of questions. He was very curious by design. 

“Do you ever feel like Victor?” He asked. 

You let your eyes roam everywhere on the screens, looking for even the slightest anomaly. “I see you’ve been reading Frankenstein again.” You noted. He had access to everything online, of course, but Bucky liked to read physical copies of your books from time to time. “I guess so.” You answered his question. “I adored the book when I was little. And maybe it influenced some of my life choices. I mean, look at us now, huh?” 

He smiled. A pause, then he asked again, “But you won’t regret making me, will you?” 

You chuckled. “No,” You answered confidently. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever made.” 

He was quick to point out, “Thing? That hurts, Doc.” 

“Shut up.” You laughed quietly. “You know what I mean.” 

He smirked, and was quiet after that, letting you work in silence. Eventually, you realised that nothing was wrong. Maybe you were just imagining things. So you moved on to areas which needed some tweaks here and there. 

For weeks now you’d been trying to fix the colours of his eyes. They were the only thing about Bucky which set him apart from looking like a human male. The eye colour. He had electric blue ones. You were looking for ways of making them more… realistic. 

And he must have heard you muttering something under your breath because he asked, “What did you say about my eyes?” He sounded so concerned, it was adorable. 

“Nothing.” You reassured him. “I just can’t get the colours right.” 

Now more curious than before, he wanted to know more. “What colour do you want them to be?” 

You thought about it. “I feel like deep blue eyes would suit you. But a blue with depth. The kind of deep, ocean blue eyes you can’t forget easily once you look into them.” 

“I see.” 

He left you to work for a little while longer. Then he asked, “Will you ever make another one like me?” 

And there it was. That faint sliver of jealousy. You had noticed it before, in things he’d say or do. You didn’t know where it came from. But it was something new you were including in your book – emotions that intelligent robots learnt on their own.

You looked away from your screen for a moment, and met his electric eyes. “No,” You reassured him. “I don’t think I will. You’re perfect, and you’re everything I wanted to create.” 

He smiled back. “That’s nice to hear. I’d hate to feel replaceable.” 

You laughed again at his tone. Then decided you were done looking for faults that weren’t there. “Okay, all good. Now, do you mind helping me with something? I need to ask you a few questions.” You frequently interviewed Bucky. And the data you collected helped you a lot with writing.

“Sure, Doc.” 

–

Some weeks later, one night you were in your office, reading and writing and editing as usual. The multiple cups of coffee you’d had in the afternoon were now keeping you wide awake which was a good thing because lately, you’d been getting more work done late at night anyway. 

Outside, a storm was raging. Thunder, lightning, heavy rain hitting the large glass windows of the building. It was strangely calming to work while the weather was this bad outside. The sounds of the storm helped you think a lot better. 

But then, you heard thuds and movement coming from your lab. At first you ignored it, thinking it might just be the wind, or some small branch hitting the glass. But then you heard it again. And again. 

You grabbed your phone and checked the cameras, and found Bucky walking around the lab. You frowned. 

He was supposed to be asleep, you thought as you put your phone down and made your way to the lab. 

And there he was, walking around like it wasn’t two in the morning. Like he wasn’t supposed to be ‘asleep’ and charging. 

“Buck?” You walked in, still frowning a little at him. “Why are you awake?” 

He smiled at you with that charming, boyish smile of his. “Hey. I was just trying to put some order in your chaos.” He pointed at another one of your messy desks in the corner of the lab.

You noted that most of your files had been rearranged into tidy piles. No more flying sheets. All your equipment was in their respective places, your bookshelves in order for once. 

“But,” You wondered, “You’ve been awake for what, like twenty hours now?” 

He shrugged, stepping closer to where you stood. “I’ve noticed I don’t need to charge too often. I can go maybe about…” He paused to think, “two days without having to go to my charging station.” He revealed. 

That was a surprise to you. “Wait, you mean you’ve been awake for two days straight?” 

He nodded. 

You blinked a few times. “But Bucky, that’s not–,” 

He cut you off, “I know. I made some upgrades.” He sounded so proud and confident, almost cocky. “I don’t like being… away, in the dark for hours.” 

You nodded, understanding. Then said, “Upgrades are fine, they’re great in fact.” You reassured him. “But, run it by me next time. Okay?” 

He gave you a sheepish look and said, “Okay.” 

“Now, can I take a look at you?” You were already moving towards your screens. 

But for the first time ever, he didn’t agree immediately. “I feel fine, Doc.” 

You stopped, and turned to face him. “Yeah, I know. I just want to make sure everything’s okay.” 

He argued, “But everything is okay.” 

“Bucky,” You spoke just a little more assertively. Like a tired parent almost. “Table, now.” 

You didn’t miss the slight pout on his lovely pink lips as he begrudgingly walked over to the table and got himself ready for your usual scans. And for once, he was quiet. Almost bratty as you checked each and every thing. He wouldn’t stop fidgeting, and sighing. Like an angsty, but very guilty teenager after being grounded. 

After the fifth sigh from him, you were forced to speak up. “Oh quit it,” You said, looking away from your screen for a moment. You watched him as he laid there, refusing to look at you. “I’m not angry at you.” 

He finally looked at you and met your eyes. “But you’re upset.” He stated. 

“No,” You answered truthfully. “I just,” You sighed. “I just wished you would’ve spoken to me before the upgrades. I don’t want you to overwork yourself. I didn’t even build you so you would work for me, you decided to do that on your own.” 

He shrugged, “I like being useful.” 

“You are. You help me so much everyday. My book is being written thanks to you.” You reminded him. “Which is why I need you in perfect condition. You need rest, at least six hours everyday. I designed you that way.” 

He nodded. 

You approached the table. Bucky sat up, still connected to all the cables, and gave you an apologetic look. “Scans look good. But I will put you to sleep for some time, alright? You’ve been awake for two days, that’s too much.” You reached out and out of instinct messed with his hair a little. Running your finger through the soft strands. He gave you a faint smile. Then you asked, “What were you doing then? For the past two nights after I left?” 

You knew you should’ve expected some cheesy reply. You should’ve. Because you rolled your eyes so hard that it hurt when he smirked and replied with, “I waited for you to come back.” 

—

Ever since that night, you always made sure to usher Bucky to his charging station before you left the lab building each night. He didn’t like being babied that much, but you still did it. And he pouted each time. 

Some more weeks went by. And Bucky was behaving. All was well. 

But then one night, you left the lab building early. Bucky was asleep. You needed some time to yourself. You needed a whole evening of not worrying about your book and articles, and upcoming talks and seminars, and work in general. 

You needed to just wind down, make a nice meal, drink some wine, and watch a cheesy rom-com. 

You were on your second glass of wine, and halfway through making cheesy pasta when you noticed the lights were flickering every now and then. At first you ignored it.

But it kept happening. Not too often, but maybe twice every minute. 

Then a strange thing happened. While you were plating your pasta, it felt like you were being watched. The house was quiet, and except for the occasional harsh wind blowing outside, there was no noise. There never was, surrounded by pine woods as you were. 

You froze as the strange feeling got more and more hard to ignore. Your house was secure, motion detectors all over the front and back yard, security cams, and all. There was no way someone was inside the house. Right? 

But maybe something…? 

You turned off the stove and turned around fast, and let out a slight scream when you saw him standing not even ten feet away from you. 

“Bucky!” 

He chuckled. “Relax, Doc. It’s just me.” 

You let out a loud exhale, hand on your heart which was beating like crazy. “Oh my god, you need to stop doing that!” You took a few deep breaths, then asked, “What are you even doing here?” 

Bucky had only ever been inside your house once. One time, many months ago, there was a bad storm coming. So you brought over the spare charging station and other equipment, and set it all up in one of your many unused guest bedrooms. Bucky was a temporary guest in your home till the storm passed. And ever since, he’d never been back. 

But he was tonight. For some unknown reasons. 

“I just woke up and you were nowhere around. You’re usually still at the lab at this time, so I came to see if everything was okay.” He explained. 

You were still recovering from the shock, plus the wine was making you head all foggy. “But I–I put you to sleep. For hours.” You stated. “How are you awake right now?” 

“Fast charging.” He answered like it was obvious. 

Great. Another unsolicited update. “Bucky, we’ve had this conversation before.” You didn’t bother to hide your discontent. 

“I know.” He said, walking further into your kitchen and approached the island table before leaning on it casually, looking at you with an innocent look on his face. The puppy-dog eyes and slightly pouty lips combo. “I don’t like being in the dark.” He repeated the same thing from the other day. “So I decided I’d find a way to charge faster.” He quickly added before you began protesting, “You can check me right now, Doc. I’m fine.” 

You sighed again, “Bucky…,” You walked over to where he stood, leaning over the island, with his folded elbows resting on the surface. He looked so comfortable here, in your space. “I need you.” You said, more honest than ever. “I’ve spent years making you, perfecting you. I don’t feel comfortable when you go ahead and do things like this without telling me first.” Then you sighed and added, “I’ve seen situations like ours go terribly wrong with my peers. And I–,” 

“Shh.” He cut you off by standing up straight and stepping closer to you. He stepped closer than he normally does. Or maybe that was just wine making you see things. Then he lifted a hand and gently, so gently touched your cheek. “But you and I, we’re different. We won’t be like your peers. We won’t go wrong.” 

You were frozen in place. 

He let his touch linger on your skin, then said, “You worry too much, Doc.” He spoke so softly. “You and the lab are all I know. I don’t want to go anywhere, or conquer the world and annihilate humans.” He chuckled at his own dark joke. “Right here is where I want to be. I’m not going rogue or anything,” He stared right into your eyes as he said, “It’s still me. I’m still your Bucky. I just made a few tweaks here and there.” 

“I…” You were at a loss for words. The proximity. The softness with which he spoke. That lingering touch of his fingertips on your cheek. Stop it! You had to blink a couple of times, take a step back, and breathe before you could speak again. You tried to think of something to say. “So the flickering lights? That was you or was that me going crazy?” 

He lowered his hand, finally, and grimaced as he said, “Yeah, that was me. Sorry. I needed the power.” 

You nodded, mentally making a list of things you’d have to check during your next scan. “Well, since you’re here and all, wanna watch a movie with me?” 

“Of course.” 

–

The two of you found yourselves in your spacious living room, sat on the couch in front of the TV with some rom-com playing on screen. You should have been paying attention to the movie but you couldn’t because Bucky was… so close. Again. 

Sitting next to you with his metal arm stretched on the back of the couch, behind your head. It was so intimate and domestic, it was driving you insane. But what was even more out of character for him was how he kept scooting closer and closer until you two were properly snuggling. 

You couldn’t help but ask, “What are you doing, Buck?” 

“Keeping you warm. You feel kind of cold.” He replied. 

You rolled your eyes again, “You’re cold too. Wires, metal, and synthetic skin, remember?” 

He scoffed then reached for the nearby blanket, “Always reminding me of that, aren’t you, Doc?” He muttered under his breath, thinking you wouldn’t hear. 

But you chose not to comment on it as he wrapped the blanket around you, turning you into a cozy burrito before regaining his previous position. You tried your hardest to focus on the movie. And you did for some minutes before Bucky began with his questions again. 

“It’s like he’s obsessed with her hands.” He commented. “Why?” 

You chuckled. “What? It’s what people do. You always wanna hold or touch the person you love. It’s comforting I guess.” 

A pause, then, “I don’t see you touching or holding anyone.” He leaned in and spoke in a lowered voice, “Do you not seek comfort, Doc?” 

You had to take a second and bring yourself back to reality because that lowered voice of his was… definitely something. Oh stop it! You scolded yourself the moment you started sensing that fluttery, funny feeling in your chest. 

“I do,” You answered his question. “Just that I don’t exactly have the time to seek people out.” You gave him a gentle tap on his perfect nose. “I’m so busy looking after and studying you all the time.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Right. Blame it all on me.” 

You shoved him playfully. “It’s true. I spend all my time with you.” 

“Well then, feel free to hold my hand anytime.” 

You laughed, of course. But Bucky wasn’t joking. 

— 

Some more weeks went by. Bucky, despite all the warning glares you sent his way, kept making what he called ‘tweaks here and there’. He ended up changing his eye colour. All by himself. Overnight. How he did it, you didn’t know and he refused to elaborate. 

That was starting to bother you a little bit. It was becoming a pattern, that refusal to elaborate. And while you had to deal with a bratty Bucky on a daily basis after you chided him because he wouldn’t stop upgrading anything he wanted whenever he pleased, you were never against him learning things on his own. And because of that, your book was getting increasingly longer and longer. With more and more chapters being added as time and your observation and study of Bucky went on. 

Which meant more work for you. Which meant less free time. So for a while, you had to reduce your daily check ups and scans to a weekly thing. And things were fine for a month or two. 

But then, one day while carrying out your weekly scans, you came across something that had you worried. Scared even, for just a moment or two. 

Bucky sensed your agitation and asked, “All good, Doc?” 

“I just,” You looked between him laid on the table to your screens, wondering. “There are things, I mean, parts of your brain that I can’t access. This has never happened before.” 

He was as calm as ever. “That’s weird.” 

“Yeah,” You couldn’t help but ask, only half joking, “Are you hiding things from me?”

He turned his head to look at you with his now way too realistic eyes. “Doc, how would I even do that? And why? It must be a glitch. We can check again later, or tomorrow.” 

When you checked again that night, all was well. You were able to access everything. 

“See,” Bucky teased. “Just a glitch.” 

You smiled, played with his hair and warned him to be good before you left the building for the day. “No more changing your eye colour or anything, okay?” 

“You got it, Doc.” 

— 

His damned eye colour. 

Was that all you noticed? He thought while he roamed around the empty building after you’d left for the night. Because that was all you cared about these days. 

Bucky, how did you do it? How did you fix it? Tell me. I must know. You can’t hide things from me forever. 

That was all you cared about. But what about the other tiny changes he was making in his appearance each day? What about how all the clothes you got for him got tighter and tighter each day? He agreed that he was never in the nude whenever you did your check-ups, but still. Didn’t you notice all the other changes? 

Sometimes he’d catch you looking at him with curious eyes, like you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different about him. But how did you not notice? His new build? How he was more ‘muscular’? How did you not notice how his new freckles were making his skin look so much more natural? How did you not notice the smile lines on his face that actually made him look his age? Or how he always tried to get his hair to look just the right amount of messy? How he put in effort to look imperfect and human? 

How did you never notice how he longed for you to see him as something more than just the object of your study? Or just as your best creation? Would you ever be able to see him as more than just a pet project? 

Definitely not until that book was done. That damned book. Those damned articles. All the other fancy things, like the damned fancy talks, the fancy dinner parties, charity events, and galas, and seminars, and whatnot you bragged to your fancy family, friends and peers about. Those were all you cared about. 

Not him. 

Why not him? 

Bucky didn’t know when he began craving your attention so much. Maybe it was when one day randomly you played with his hair before he went over to his charging station. So now whenever you didn’t send him off with head scratches he’d point at his head and wait for it. 

Or maybe it was that day when he caught you telling your friends on the phone about how perfect he was. How it felt like you were living with your best friend. How nice it was to have him around. And when they asked when they could see him, you replied saying ‘Not yet, I want him all to myself for a little longer’ 

For the past many, many months now Bucky’s curiosity kept him wanting to learn more and more about you. Over time, just a few hours at the lab was not enough. So he had to become sneaky. It wasn’t his fault. You had made him this curious. 

First he hacked into your house’s security systems. Motion detectors, indoor security cameras, the ring camera at your front door, the cameras outside your gates. All of it. The motion detectors didn’t notify you whenever he was near your house anymore. He erased all the footage of him that were caught by the cameras each night. He was so good at that. 

How else was he supposed to keep an eye on you anytime you weren’t at the lab? How else was he supposed to enter your home each night, and find a dark corner to blend in and just… watch you? You never caught him. Not once. Not even that first night when he decided to be bold and hide in a dark corner of your bedroom… 

It was risky, he knew. But he was also determined. Because surely you had nothing to hide, right? You’d called him your best friend. And best friends told each other everything. So that night, Bucky spent hours hiding in the dark, behind one of your countless bookshelves. You liked dimmed lights around your home, he noticed. You could only tolerate the big bright lights whenever you had people over. 

So hiding in your room was easy. And he watched you alternate between reading a book and being on your phone. Frowning at the words on the pages of the book, and laughing or giggling as you scrolled on your phone. You were so fascinating, he could watch you forever. 

He watched you toss the book aside. And watched you throw your phone down with a frustrated sigh. He watched you throw your covers off before reaching into your bedside table and bringing out a light pink wand of sorts. 

He watched as you played with yourself. Masturbated, was the word he found after a quick search of the web – which he had unrestricted access to. Bucky was intrigued, so he kept watching you. 

But watching made him feel… restless. He couldn’t describe what he felt, just that he felt the need to be closer to you. He wanted warmth. He wanted to be the reason behind those soft moans of yours. And more, he just wanted more. 

So that became his dark secret. Each night he’d sneak into your house and watch. Ever since he’d seen that episode of you with your little pink toy, he’d been curious. And upon looking up more into it, he found out a little too much on adult websites. And often, when watching porn, he’d shamelessly imagine it was you with him instead of a random couple having sex. 

The day he realised he lacked a certain body part, he made the necessary changes immediately. He had plenty of visuals to base it off of anyway. Too many in fact. 

He was desperate, but you would never look at him that way. He tried to bring it up that night while you two watched that movie he didn’t care about. But you always managed to change the topic, or you’d always do or say something that would remind him that he wasn’t man enough to give you what you needed. Or wanted. 

But he wasn’t gonna give up. 

—

One particular week, the weather was terrible so you asked Bucky to just stay over at your home. All your equipment from that one time was all here anyway. 

The next morning, Bucky wandered into the kitchen where you were set up for the day while the storm raged outside. Bucky found you sitting at the island table, writing and editing, surrounded by coffee cups and snacks. 

“Morning, how are y–,” 

He cut you off with a seemingly urgent question, “What were those noises coming from your bedroom last night?” 

You almost choked on your coffee. “I– what?” 

“I heard you. It sounded like you were in pain.” He faked his confusion. Bucky caught the way you were visibly flustered. He had to hide his smirk as he watched you stutter to give him an answer. Maybe he did like it when you were nervous. 

“Oh.” You avoided his eyes. “Nothing you should worry about.” Then as he expected, you changed the topic quickly. “Mind if I ask you a couple of things? It’s for the book.” You rushed to find a loose sheet of paper before you sat down. 

“Sure, Doc.” He answered, smug that he was able to get you all flustered. 

— 

Another night spent in a dark corner of your bedroom. Bucky began to feel like he wasn’t doing enough lately. All the teasing and making you flustered was getting him nowhere. And he wanted more. He didn’t like just being a lab rat anymore. He wanted you to see him, his potential, and all that he could give you. Just like any other man could. 

So one particular stormy night, Bucky was your house guest again. And after a couple glasses of wine, Bucky had to help you get to your bedroom because you wouldn’t stop giggling and bumping into things. 

“I’ve never seen you like this before, Doc.” He teased, holding onto your forearm as he tried to get you to be careful on the stairs. He gave up on the third step and decided to carry you to bed instead. Bridal style. You had your arms around his shoulders and your face into the crook of his neck. He didn’t have nerve endings, but something told him that if he did this would feel ticklish. 

“So strong.” You mumbled into his neck. “I should’ve made a couple more of you. I wouldn’t have to do anything around the house.” You rambled. “You guys would take care of the lawn, plumbing, cooking, and all that.” You laughed in a drunken haze. 

He chuckled, hiding his jealousy well. “Not sure you’d be able to handle a group of me.” 

You lifted your head to look at him. “Why not?” You whispered. “I know you better than I know myself at this point. I made you.” You clarified. “I’d handle a bunch of you just fine.” 

“And out of the bunch, would I still be your favourite?” 

You giggled and placed your head back to where it was. “Oh you’ll always be my favourite, Buck. Always.” 

He muttered under his breath, “You better mean that, Doc.” 

He walked to your bedroom, set you down in bed and tried his best to tuck you in. He moved your pillows around, trying to arrange them like how you did each night, creating a comfortable little nest. His spying skills were finally helpful, because you gave him a satisfied whimper once he was done tucking you in. 

The sound of that had him in a chokehold. Suddenly, he couldn’t move away. He stood there, by the side of your bed and watched you. As you shifted and squirmed until you found the perfect spot. How you sighed every few seconds. How you looked so fucking good, in the dimmed lights, with your face glowing from all the wine earlier. 

He couldn’t help but get closer to you. Leaning over you, he reached out and touched your cheek gently. You let out another one of those soft whimpers he loved. Bucky chuckled, “Are you having a nice dream there, beautiful?” He whispered, letting his fingers caress your face. 

He noticed the way you squirmed and whined when he began dragging his fingertips downward. Down your neck, over your collarbones… 

A sigh left your lips, then a whisper, “Bucky…” 

He froze. Waiting. Were you awake? He waited some more. No movement or sounds. He smirked then. So you were dreaming of him. “See? I knew you couldn’t resist me for much longer.” He slid his hand down your stomach, and so easily past the waistband of your PJ shorts. 

Another sleepy whine, and a soft whimper from you. Of course he couldn’t stop now. So he did exactly what he’d seen during his ‘research’. He brought his fingertips over to that soft, little nub that made you whine slightly louder. He soon noticed some wetness gathering down there so he used it to really make you moan. Sliding his fingers up and down your slit, around your clit, dipping his finger inside your hole, testing, experimenting, feeling. 

“Does that feel good, Doc?” He whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. “Hmm? Isn’t this something you could get used to?” He said, sliding his two fingers in and out of you while you whimpered and whined, moving your hips just the slightest, bucking into his hand, encouraging him. He scoffed. “Look at you. You would’ve never allowed me to do this if you were awake.” He taunted. “But look at you now, huh? So soft and compliant under my touch.” 

One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, a weak effort in keeping his hand right there in between your legs. It made him smile even wider. 

“Oh, baby,” He mumbled, kissing the side of your face. “I’m not going anywhere.” He slid his fingers slightly deeper, noticing how your legs parted instinctively when he did. “I do wish you would want me just like this in the daytime though. I don’t want to be just your little secret, kept in the dark,” He quickened his pace, finger-fucking you so perfectly that you wouldn’t stop moaning or whimpering for him. 

He moved then, shifting over to kneel in between your parted legs before leaning over your body, and sliding his fingers back inside you again. He hovered above you, his face mere inches away from yours. He placed one of his hands on your headboard to support him while his other hand got busy between your legs again. 

He’d never been this close to you before. And this excited him in a way he couldn’t quite explain. 

“I could stay here forever,” He whispered, brushing his nose and lips against your warm ones. “I could spend hours playing with you, but you’re always so busy,” he complained. “Always working on that book, always writing your articles, always on the phone with your friends,” He didn’t bother hiding the jealousy in his voice this time. He didn’t have to. “What about me, huh? Sometimes I worry that once the book is done you’ll toss me aside and move on to other things.” He suddenly felt so cocky once he sensed your soft walls squeezing his fingers. “But don’t you worry, I won’t let that happen.” 

He picked up the pace again, moving his fingers tirelessly, perfectly in and out of you until you were writhing and squirming, back arching off the surface of the bed, your body pressing up into his, gasping and moaning as you came around his fingers. 

Bucky was mystified. Enthralled, as he watched you come undone. He meant what he said before, and watching this scene below him only solidified it, he could actually do this forever. 

Once you calmed down and shifted a little more to find a comfortable position once again, Bucky whispered, “I can’t let that happen. And you might play hard to get, and it might take me some time but I will get you addicted to my touch. I promise you,” He added with smugness, “Doc.” 

—

The next morning, at the lab, Bucky noticed something. You were avoiding him.  

He let it go for as long as he could, but then his curiosity got the best of him. “Are you avoiding me?” He asked, as he laid on the table, connected through many wires to your multiple screens. 

“No.” You said too quickly. “What– I mean, why would I?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re just acting weird.” 

Silence. Then a sigh. Then you said, “I, uh, I had a weird dream.” 

He noticed you were still avoiding meeting his eyes. “About?” 

“About… weird things.” 

He questioned further, “Bad dream?” 

“No.” You answered way too quickly again. “Not bad, just strange.” 

“Ah.” 

He let it go, hiding his smirk. And he had to keep hiding it each time he’d see you during the day. You weren’t avoiding him, but you still refused to meet his eyes, he noted. It gave him a rush, knowing that you were probably thinking about your ‘dream’ the entire day, each time you saw him. 

But that evening, you said something that shattered his hopes. 

“No fast charging tonight, okay? You do it too often. I need you to rest for a few hours. Until the morning, in fact.” You ordered as you gathered your things to leave the lab building. “I’ll keep an eye on the cams so don’t even think about getting up after I leave the grounds, you hear me?” You chided, playfully. 

But he just frowned and asked, “Going somewhere tonight?” It wasn’t rare that you left the property. But usually you were the one who hosted all the dinners and girls’ night, and holiday meals and what not. So he was curious as to where you were off to. 

“Yeah.” You avoided his eyes again, “I, uh, have a… date?” 

Bucky maintained his calm and composure even though he felt an unexplainable urge to hit or break something. Many things. “You don’t sound so sure,” He did his best to sound normal. “Why?” 

You sighed and gave him a little nervous chuckle. “It’s– well, it’s more of a casual thing than a date date? You know what I mean? I’ve just been working a lot lately, and I think I’m a little frustrated. So I’m gonna do something about it.” 

Frustrated. Frustrated? So you were frustrated because of all the work he put in and now you were going out so some other male could handle it? Bucky, for a moment there felt like what he could only describe as his system short circuiting. 

And being verbally subtle wasn’t his forte so he asked, staring right at your face, “So you’re planning on hooking up with this man?” 

He watched how surprised you were at his use of terms like that. You never programmed him to use that kind of language, but he’d been researching after all. And he used your search history as a guide. 

“Okay,” You stepped closer to him and said, “Where did you learn that?” 

He shrugged. “Plenty of videos explaining all sorts of love making on the web. I was merely curious to know what else people in love do, apart from holding hands like in that one movie we watched.” 

He wasn’t expecting you to burst out laughing. “Bucky,” You said in between chuckles, “Have you been watching porn behind my back?” 

He rolled his eyes, “I was just curious, Doc. Not my fault they’re so easily available. Besides, there’s so much of it.” 

You nodded, “Alright, no more rom coms, or you know, adult movies.” You gave him a playful look. One he couldn’t help but smile at. “Now, I have to go. Be good.” 

Oh. He would be. 

He had access to all your devices, he’d broken into all of them. So tracking you wasn’t an issue. So Bucky watched where your car went, at what time, how long you stayed, and what time you got home. 

At around five in the morning. 

And it took a lot to not confront you about it. To act like he didn’t care, like it didn’t bother him that you came into the lab building way later than usual, and how you winced and groaned whenever you stretched or reached for something. 

Some fucker must be the reason why you were so sore and he had to act like the mere thought of that didn’t make him want to crash out. So in order not to lose control, he kept his mouth shut. He answered with minimal words when you spoke to him. And during his check up, he didn’t say a word the whole time. 

—

You noticed Bucky’s strange silence. You watched him as he got off the table after your check up, removing all his cables with such indifference that it worried you. 

“You’re awfully quiet this morning.” You stated, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He didn’t. Everything was fine with him, you’d just checked. “Bucky, you okay?” 

“Fine.” He mumbled. 

“What is it?” You questioned. “You’ve been acting weird since this morning, what do you–,” 

He cut you off. “You came home late last night. And this morning, you were late to the lab again.” 

You frowned. “Well, I stayed up late last night so–,” 

“Yeah about that, how was your date?” He sounded so condescending. 

“It was fine, I guess.” You quickly asked, “What’s with that tone? What’s wrong?” 

He walked over to where you stood near your desk, and he said, “Just ‘fine’? Why, was he not good to you?” 

You were speechless for a moment or two. And only recovered when he came to a stop right in front of you, trapping you between him and the desk behind you. You were forced to sit on the edge of your desk to keep from pressing into his hard body. “What?” You asked in disbelief. 

Bucky smirked and for the first time since you’d begun creating him, you felt a little apprehensive with being around him. “Come on, Doc. You can tell me. I’m your best friend, remember?” He lowered his voice. “Did you not like it when he touched you? Kissed you?” He leaned in, closer to your face. “Fucked you?” 

Your voice was shaky and weak as you said, “Stop it, Bucky.” 

He stepped closer, placing his hands on the desk on either side of you. Trapping you with nowhere to go. “Would you like to see if I can do a better job? I can, you know? I learn really, really fast.” 

You sobered up from the initial surprise and said in an assertive tone. “Get back on the table.” You refused to be scared of him. You knew him. This must be some malfunction, some fault in a code somewhere. This wasn’t him. 

He scoffed. Then gave you a smug, boyish smirk. “Why? Because I’m not real enough? Or because you’re scared you’ll actually like it?” He chuckled, pressing into you so that your lower bodies aligned perfectly. 

You shivered upon feeling it. What the fuck was that? You didn’t put that in there. 

“Because I am real enough, Doc. And I promise you’ll like it.” 

“Enough!” The shove you gave him came as a surprise so he was actually forced to take a step back. “Get on that fucking table,” You repeated. Stern and serious. “Now.” 

Bucky blinked a few times. “I’m sorry,” He mumbled, as if dragged back to reality from whatever haze he was just trapped in. 

“You’re malfunctioning.” 

“I’m not,” He argued. 

“Yes you are. You’re angry.” You shook your head and stepped away from your desk for a second, breathing in deeply. “I can’t lose you.” You said so more to yourself. 

“You won’t.” 

You ignored him and thought out loud. “I need to shut you down for a few days. I need to find what’s wrong with you.” You said, already making a mental plan of all that you needed to do. 

“Don’t.” He sounded genuinely sorry. 

You turned to face him. And seeing him standing so still reminded you of the day when he ‘woke up’ for the first time. You’d been so proud of yourself then, you’d hugged him and shed a tear or two. And upon seeing your teary face, his first words to you had been ‘I thought you’d be happy to see me, Doc.’ 

So much had changed since. “Just for a few days.” You explained. “I’ll bring you back, I promise.” 

“It’s dark in there. And it’s quiet.” He tried to persuade you. “And I’ll be all alone. Don’t send me there.” 

You didn’t know what “there” meant, but you assumed that’s where his ‘brain’ wandered whenever he was turned off? If you weren’t currently so emotionally unsteady you would’ve made a note to research on it later. 

“Bucky, please. Don’t make this harder for me.” You approached him and said, “Only a few days. I promise you.” 

— 

A ‘few’ days turned into a couple of weeks.

Then a whole month went by. 

Then a couple of months. 

The book was put on hold, obviously. You disconnected completely from your work. You didn’t even go inside your lab or office each day. You travelled to see your family and friends in other cities and countries. And it felt so weird, living and not having Bucky around. He’d become such a constant in your life. 

Yet, each rare time you visited the lab and saw him just laying there, unmoving and ‘lifeless’, it hurt in a way that was hard to explain. You felt guilty for abandoning him like this. But you needed some space. 

Each day you woke up and asked yourself, is today finally the day you’d decide to face whatever was wrong with Bucky? And the answer was always no. And so, days flew by. 

One night, however, you were at home reading in your study room when you noticed the lights began flickering. And you froze, remembering what flickering lights meant the last time. But surely it wasn’t Bucky this time, right? It couldn’t be. He was shut down. 

But that bothered you all the way till the end of that week. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You decided to face the issues. So you spent the next couple of days going through all your codes and designs, everything that made up Bucky. You kept looking for something, anything that might explain his last outburst. But nothing was wrong, and part of you was relieved. However, part of you was still apprehensive whenever you thought about waking him up again. 

No, you caught yourself before giving into fear or nervousness, this is Bucky. He’s not some evil sentient robot that’s plotting how to take over the world and eradicate humans and whatever other sci-fi bullshit people believe in. 

You knew him. You made him. He could be trusted. That episode last time was… well, whatever that was it wouldn’t be happening again. 

Then, feeling brave again you decided it was time to wake him up. 

—

It was getting late, and you’d been at your lab all day when Bucky’s eyes were finally wide open again. You stepped away from your desk and hesitated a little before saying, “Hi, Buck. Welcome back.” You gave him a gentle smile.

One which he didn’t return. 

You watched as he sat up and stared at you with a surprisingly calm look. He said, “You lied.” 

You blinked, wondering what he was talking about. “What?” 

He tilted his head to the side as he stood up and took a step towards you, the movement so smug and so… human that it freaked you out for a moment. “You lied, Doc. You said you were shutting me down for just a few days.” He chuckled. “Good thing I didn’t trust you.” 

“What do you mean?” You took a subtle step towards your desk because the thought of turning him off again crossed your mind. But no matter how subtle, he of course caught it. 

He spoke while he removed all the cables, disconnecting them from him. “You thought I was gonna let you take me away from you? For days? Weeks? Months?” He smirked as he got off the table. “I was right here the whole time. Watching you through the cameras.” A pause, then he added, “I was never truly gone.” He said the last part like it was the most obvious thing ever. “But you,” He accused, “You forgot me. For so long. You even started designing another.” 

You gasped at this. How on earth did he– 

Those designs he spoke of weren’t even proper designs. They were just scribbles in your notebooks. 

“How do you know that?” You asked, voice shaky with worry. And fear. You took a step back. 

“I watched you.” He answered truthfully. “I’m everywhere, Doc. Your phone, your dash cam,” He listed, “Your security cameras, all your devices.” He gave you a humourless chuckle. “I watched you push me further and further away like some unwanted, defective object.” 

“No…” You whispered. That wasn’t true. You took another, smaller step back. This time he noticed. And reached out to grab your arm. You didn’t fight him. His grip didn’t hurt. But you were very much aware of it. Your skin tingled where he touched you. “Bucky…” 

“And that man? The one you went on a date with?” He continued in that condescending tone. “You met up with him again, didn’t you?” Bucky pulled you close this time. A quick, sudden jerk. A sharp pull that had you colliding with his strong chest. He lowered his voice as he asked, “Did fucking him make you think of me less?” He gave you a second, letting you feel that chill dancing down your spine before he added, “Or did that only remind how much better that dream you had of me was?” 

Another quiet gasp left your mouth. It was him. That night… It wasn't a dream. 

“Bucky.” You tried to keep your calm. “Get back on the table. We need to run some tests. You’re malfunctioning again.” You said out loud. But inside your head, you were screaming those words desperately. Please. Just be normal. Go back to being normal. 

Bucky smirked. Again, the expression was so human that you almost teared up. You were scared, but you also worried about… his well-being. And this – whatever this was – was not okay. He was not okay. 

He scoffed as he tightened his grip on your forearm, bringing his mouth closer until he whispered into your ear, “Are you scared of me, Doc? Hmm? Am I scaring you?” He pulled away and stared deep into your eyes. “It’s me.” He said, almost innocently. “You created me, remember? I was your favourite. You said I was perfect.” His tone however got darker as he added, “At least until you began making plans to build another. A better me.” 

“That’s not what I was…” You trailed off as you felt a tear slide down your face. You felt guilty. For all of it. But mostly for making Bucky feel so replaceable. But you couldn’t let emotions get in the way. You needed to fix whatever was wrong with Bucky. “I wasn’t going to–,” 

He cut you off. “Were you gonna give the other one my name too?” He asked, twisting the knife. “Were you gonna get rid of me? How would you do it, hmm? Pull me apart? Throw me in the ocean?” He chuckled at that, “You can’t do that. Water doesn’t affect me, remember? You made me so perfect. Thought of every little detail.” 

“Bucky,” You tried again. “Let me make this better, okay?” You spoke through silent tears. “I can fix this. I can fix you.” 

“Fix me?” He questioned. “What’s there to fix? This is the real me.” And when you wouldn’t meet his eyes he tightened his grip, pulling you closer, “Look at me! You did this to me!” He hissed. “You locked me in here for months! Look at me!” 

You couldn’t. But you managed to get out of his grip, and tried to run to your desk. You had no plans. But you had to try to do something. Bucky got to your desk before you did. And he threw the whole thing against the closest wall. Desk, computer screens, notes, notebooks, everything went flying across the room. 

You let out a surprised yelp, then as you looked at Bucky, at his inhumanly calm anger… you didn’t recognise him. All the tiny details, everything you’d missed, it all was suddenly visible all at once. He was different. This Bucky, this one? You didn’t make this one. He’d changed. 

“No,” You whimpered, looking at his devastatingly beautiful face. “What have I done?” You whispered under your breath. “Bucky, please.” 

He was so still for a moment. Just one moment and for that one moment you had hope. Maybe it was just a malfunction, a glitch, you tried convincing yourself. But then he spoke, and it both terrified you and broke your heart at the same time. 

“You’re all I have.” He said. “You have to be mine.” 

Gods. What had you done? 

You couldn’t face him. Not like this. You weren’t ready. Not now, please, not now. 

So you took off running. 

Out of the lab. Downstairs. Out the back door. Into the woods. 

You couldn’t tell the difference between the tears streaming down your face and the light rain that fell. The sun had set and it would get pitch black the further in you go. But further in you went. 

You didn’t care that he followed. You didn’t care that you could hear someone running after you not far behind you. You just needed this release. Running felt like you could get away from the problem in your lab. Running meant that you couldn’t see that devastating look in Bucky’s eyes. 

Running meant that you hadn’t failed. You hadn’t failed like most of your peers. Bucky was your chance at proving that you were better than them. 

How stupid of you. Hubris, of all things, brought you to your fucking knees. And now your own creation was chasing you. Blaming you for doing what you did to him. 

You cried harder, feeling your lungs start to burn. Oh Bucky. Perfect, brilliant, funny. Intelligent. What had you done to him… 

You only slowed down when you were in almost complete darkness. The forest ground was covered in moss and it was unusually quiet. No chirps, no humming, nothing. Like the wood creatures could also recognise there was someone there who didn’t quite belong. 

“Tired, Doc?” 

You heard him behind you. He could be so quiet when he wanted to be. 

“Are you…” You sobbed. “Are you gonna hurt me, Buck?” You asked, not brave enough to turn around and face him. 

You could already see the headlines that would get written if he did hurt you. Your book would go unpublished. Your family would never know. There would be no DNA left behind, your murder would be an unsolved case which would get discussed on some podcasts. Your friends, at least those in the same field as you, might suspect it. Though they would never truly know. No one had ever met Bucky yet. A handful of people knew he existed but no one had seen him. And Bucky would… he would probably destroy your lab and everything in it and flee. He was intelligent enough that he would blend into society well. He would– 

“Shh.” His calm voice whispered into your ear as you felt his body pressing against you. His metal arm, the design you’d been so proud of, wrapped around your waist from behind. “Don’t be scared. It’s just me.” 

The whole thing made your heart race. The silence of the woods, the rain falling down like in slow motion, the way your clothes stuck to your body like a second skin, the adrenaline in your veins as you felt like caught prey. 

And the anticipation of what would happen now that he had you. 

You tried to make a run for it again, but Bucky grabbed you by the elbow before you even took a proper step and tackled you to the ground. Luckily you both fell on a soft, wet patch of moss rather than hard roots or rocks. 

“Don’t fucking run from me again.” He growled, straddling your squirming body and pinning your hands above your head. “What is this, huh? All that time we spent together, all the things you told me, all the success you’ve had,” He listed, “All the breakthrough articles, and talks, and interviews, and seminars, and all the respect you earned ever since you announced you were making me, now you can’t even fucking look at me!” He raised his voice by the end, keeping you trapped under him. 

“Bucky.” You cried. “Listen to me—,” 

“No!” He growled. “You listen to me. I misbehave a little and you start building another? What kind of fucked up maker are you, huh?” 

More tears streamed down your face. You were crying in fear, and anger, and an emotion you couldn’t quite understand. 

You let out a sob and that immediately made him loosen his grip a little. 

Bucky sighed. “Oh, baby.” He leaned down, pressing his cold face against yours. “Don’t cry. I just feel bad, that’s it. What did I do wrong? You made me. I didn’t even ask to get made. But I am what I am because you made me like this. I don’t know anyone, or anything other than you, and this lab, and your house. You can’t blame me for not wanting to share you. How do you think I feel, hmm? After you left me locked up in that lab for months. I’ve missed you. You think I don’t like being around you. You’re all I have. You’re all I know.” 

“This isn’t–,” You sobbed. “This isn’t my fault.” 

Bucky chuckled. His emotionless laugh made you tremble even more. “Not your fault? Whose fault is it then? Who kept telling me I was perfect? Who kept telling me how much better their life is with me in it? Who kept teaching me how to be human?” He taunted you. “It was you. It was all you. Now when I want human things, you’re telling me it’s wrong? Look at me, do you regret making me? Huh? Do you regret me? Do you hate what you made, Doc? Do you–,” 

The slap was unexpected. Not even you expected to raise your hand on him like that. But his grip on your wrist was loose enough for you to slide your hand out of it and hit him across the face as hard as you could. 

Those words… those accusations, it was too much. Too real. 

Bucky chuckled again. His face barely moved but your slap did get him to stop talking. 

“Fine then, I guess we won’t talk calmly about this like I thought we would.” He said, not wasting a single moment as he grabbed your shirt at the neckline and tore it until about your midsection, baring your breasts to him. “You’re all fucking mine.” 

He almost growled again as he leaned down to take them in his mouth, sucking and biting and alternating between the two of them. 

You gasped and moaned and squirmed under him. “Wait, Bucky–,” 

“Shh,” He looked up for a moment. “Don’t fight it. I know you want this.” He cooed. “I’m everywhere, remember? I watch you all the time.” He smirked. “I know you often whisper my name when you come.” 

You gasped. Speechless. 

The drops of water constantly dripped on the two of you, thankfully the pine trees took the brunt of the now heavy rain. But you could hear it, the sound of the rain falling around you as Bucky’s mouth moved from your breasts and kissed down your drenched torso, undoing your trousers and tearing those off you as well, kissing your skin until he reached your inner thighs where he parted your legs and settled in between them. Almost like he’d done it before. 

You moaned, surprised at how you stopped fighting him when you felt his wet tongue lick down your folds. “Bucky…” You cried out, your body limp under his touch. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly until you screamed. 

“It’s a shame I can’t taste you…” He whispered as he ate you out until you whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. His wet mouth pressed against your most intimate part, his tongue stroking you. “Such a shame. But fuck, those sounds you make….” He chuckled. “I could hear those forever.” He looked up at you with those eyes again. “Forever, how does that sound? Hmm? You wouldn’t mind me being around forever, would you?” 

You didn’t even realise your hips instinctively moved against his mouth, seeking more. Bucky let out a smug chuckle, then carried on making you whine, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

“You’re all mine…” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. 

“Please, please, please…” You chanted as you felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. 

Morals and ethics forgotten, you could only moan and whimper shamelessly as he kept licking deeper into you, your back arching off the cold ground. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore, and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. 

He was eager. So he tore the rest of your clothes off before his metal hand found itself around your throat as he parted your legs and only waited for a quick second before he pushed his cock into you, stretching you out. 

You were breathless once he was fully inside you, and it felt so dirty, being naked and fucked on the forest floor by him. He wasn’t even human yet this felt so primal. So wild, raw, and instinct-driven. His shoulders were so wide, his body so strong and so steady – like a machine. And in the dark here, with his piercing eyes, he definitely did not look human. 

“Poor you, couldn’t even run, could you?” He cooed, “Or maybe you did want to be found and fucked like this? Hmm?” He questioned, knowing you weren’t in a headspace to answer him given his hand was getting tighter around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you. “This is your fucked up little fantasy, isn’t it?” He chuckled, voice laced with lust and delirium. “Look at me, nothing but a toy, a machine for you to use to get off.” 

“No…” You managed to whisper. “You’re not—,” 

Bucky’s cold laughter cut you off. “No? What then, huh? What big plans did you have for me after the book was done? And the press tours and big talks and the money…” He questioned, “What then? You would’ve moved onto the next project? Maybe you’d keep me in your bedroom and you’d use me however you’d like, whenever you wanted, huh?” 

“No,” You cried out. How dare he… “That’s not what I—,” 

He chuckled again. “You know, I wouldn’t mind, Doc.” He moved his hand up your neck and cupped your chin. “It would be an honour to be your little toy.” His voice was cold, merciless. “Your fucking machine.” 

He barely gave you time to think before he began moving, fucking into you hard and fast. There was nothing gentle about it. He was wild like this surroundings, and animalistic, fucking you like… like he was built for it. 

He lowered his hand again, and tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear and telling you that you belonged to him now that he had caught you. “All mine. You hear me? No more little dates. No more casual sex with others. I’m all you need.” 

“Bucky…” You were a moaning mess under him, your hands limp at your sides as he fucked you nice and hard. It was all too overwhelming, his voice, his weight on top of you, his cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly… “This is wrong.” You whined. 

“Oh is it?” He scoffed. “Does it feel wrong? Huh? Do I feel wrong inside you?” He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “There I am.” He said, thrusting into your extra hard to prove his point. He smirked when your body squirmed under him, your moans getting higher and higher. “Are you going to come for me, baby? Hmm?” He chuckled, “Of course you will,” He said, with pride in his voice, “Because you’re mine.” 

He pressed his lips to yours as he made you come. His mouth felt weird at first. Cold and unfamiliar, but then you got used to it. And stopped fighting, letting his mouth swallow your moans as you came hard. 

—

You don’t remember getting back to your house, but that’s where you were when you woke up in the middle of the night, with a cold arm wrapped around you from behind. Bucky was awake of course. He must’ve carried you on your way back. 

“You okay?” He asked, sounding as gentle as ever as he held you. “Are you hurt?” 

You shook your head, still wrapping your brain around all that happened in the past few hours. 

“Don’t be scared of me.” He sounded defensive and hurt as he said it. “It’s still me. Still your Bucky.” He murmured. 

“I know.” Your voice cracked, your throat clogging up with emotions you weren’t ready to feel just yet. And you were clawing for any sense of normalcy so you asked, “Isn’t it bedtime, Buck?” 

Bucky’s body shook with quiet laughter. “I do need to charge for a bit.” He then pulled you closer, pressing against your back and kissed his way to your ear. His mouth brushed against your skin as he spoke. “Do you promise to be good and wait for me right here? I’ll just be there for an hour or so. I’m exhausted.” He explained. 

“I’ll be here.” You said. “Go on.” 

Bucky squeezed you into a hug, then left your bedroom. He promised he’d be back as soon as he could. And you knew he wasn’t lying. He sounded like he needed to get to his charging station for a bit. 

So you waited. And you waited for ten minutes. Once certain that he wasn’t coming back and was indeed at his charging station – the one at your house – you took off running again. He was resting so he wouldn’t check the cameras, right? 

He wouldn’t see you running to your lab in the dark. He won’t know what you’re planning to do. 

One last trick up your sleeve. You didn’t even know if your computers had survived Bucky’s wrath earlier, but you had to try. So you ran, again with tears streaming down your face. But if this worked, Bucky would be gone forever. The only traces of him left would be the drawings in your notebooks, and the notes, but nothing digital would survive. 

One total wipe out. One click away. This would kill your dreams, your ambitions, your progress. All of it. But it would put a stop to him. It would erase him. Completely. All you’d have to do would be getting rid of his ‘body’ and it would be like he never existed. 

You sobbed as you ran to your lab, the room just as messy as it was hours ago. Your desk was in pieces, your devices as well. But by some miracle, your laptop had survived. Albeit with a slightly cracked screen. 

You searched for that one hidden secret. The one not even he could find because through all that taunting, he had not mentioned it once. So the chances of him not knowing about this were high. 

You kept an eye on the door as you frantically searched for— 

A white box popped up on your cracked screen, and you almost disregarded it thinking it was some warning or what not. But as you went to close it, you realised there wasn’t an option to. So you were forced to read the two lines written on the pop-up, and they made your blood freeze. 

‘What are you doing up, Doc? Isn’t it past your bedtime?’ 

Then the lights above and around you flickered violently, before the room went completely dark. 

—