#I also love bucky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunlitsunflowers · 1 year ago

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^ real pictures of me reading this😂💛

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶

》 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤

The mask that covered the Soldat both embodied the character and hid the man behind it, the cloak of his character so effective it was a shock when he cornered and isolated you, to ask you out on a date. Stranger things had happened, that you were sure of.

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 》 Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 》 5.0k

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 》 Swearing, pet names, fluff, a game of chase with an intensity times a hundred, consensual stalking + primal + knife play, meet cute, first date, friends to lovers

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 》 There is a surprise cameo in here of someone I never thought I would write for... Halloween called for it.

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧 》 @rookthorne's Fright Night | Masterlist

𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗔 》 @smutconnoisseur

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 《 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 》 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍

What felt like years had passed since the previous night.

After your encounter with the infamous Soldat, you had gone home feeling unsettled, unmoored with the curiosity that held you in such a tight vice it was impossible to breathe without the urge to research and know more.

You had eventually given in – the social media platforms did not pull much of what you didn’t already know, however, you realised that Soldat had his own playlist on the park’s YouTube channel. Each video was filmed with a shaky camera and you could see him stalking after the person filming, and then he would vanish when they went through a crowd, just like a ghost – what he proclaimed to be.

Comments called him a hoax, a stunt pulled by the park to call more visitors to the park. Which, you admitted, had worked – you went there and you signed that waiver just to have a chance to encounter him.

Granted, you had gotten much more than you bargained for by far, that was for certain. Being hunted like prey and then cornered in an alleyway, only to find out he was intrigued by you…

“Hmm,” you hummed, scrolling through the comments of a video. A single comment caught your attention and you stopped your mindless scrolling and paused to read it.

He chased after me for like ten minutes. It was the scariest thing in my life and I commend him for his skill. Looking forward to coming back next season!

A short video was attached. It portrayed Soldat over the shoulder of the poster, flipping his knife nonchalantly as he stared straight at the camera.

You couldn’t help but notice that every time you stumbled upon something pertaining to the Soldat that no one mentioned his proximity – not a single word about how they’d been pulled to his chest or had his hands on them and a knife to their throat. “That’s- That can’t be right,” you said, furrowing your brows.

Had he made an exception for you?

The worker that walked you through the waiver had endlessly assured you that this was due process, and that every person that signed the waivers was given the option to opt out of encounters with Soldat. He went on to explain that even if you did sign the waiver, there was no guarantee to have an interaction with a specific character.

You still signed it, fully understanding the fact that it wasn’t a promise to see the Soldat. There was that hope, maybe even longing, that he would make an appearance, and you had been accutely surprised with just how he had presented himself.

He stood so close you could feel his chest rise and fall against your back with every breath; you could hear his muffled words behind the mask, the accented dialogue of his character tinged with a mother tongue of Russian.

You wondered where the actor was from – whether he was just putting on a show, or whether he was in fact, from Russia. From what you understood and researched, the words he spoke translated to something that made you shiver.

Those feelings and those words did not leave your mind as you slept, nor as you worked through the day. It was enough of a distraction that you had made so many slip ups and mistakes without realising, and you had been forced to start tasks over half way through.

Your coworkers had revelled in that, even teased you for it.

Sighing heavily, you placed your phone down in your lap and stared at the wall of your bedroom. Nightfall was creeping closer and closer. Soon you would need to leave to get to the park and that’s when you would see him, and that thought sent a thrill of excitement up your spine.

Hours later, you stood at the entryway of the park once again. It felt surreal, like you were walking through a lucid dream filled with excited crowds flocking their way through the attractions.

It was the eve of Halloween and everything had been ramped up – lights, fire, and fog were increased exponentially. There were even more actors stalking through the crowds and scattering them like pins in a bowling alley.

A few of them tried jumping in front of you, but you only stared at them with a smirk when they pouted at your lack of reaction. “Ain’t here for a scare, lamb?” one asked, baring his teeth.

“Nah,” you replied, “just here to watch everyone else lose their shit.” Whether it was in character or not, the actor laughed and moved on, amused with your blunt answer.

Your reason for venturing to the park, however, could not have been more wrong. The words that the Soldat had said to you the previous night, “I will find you, kotenok. You will not escape so easily next time,” rang through your mind, bouncing off the confines of your skull.

If he were here, he would find you, you reasoned. With that self-assurance, you started forward and passed through the sign in desk with a practised ease, then you headed straight off towards the rides. The crowd cleared as you walked, and you laughed at a group of young men as they scattered from an actor that had skidded across the floor towards them.

“Little lamb!” a woman’s voice yelled, and you spun around to find Widow walking towards you, this time without her bat-hybrid weapon. Instead of a torn up leather jacket, she was wearing a suit – dark crimson, like her hair – and her white dress shirt was splattered with gore. “You came back! Soldat left you in peace, then.”

You grinned. “He didn’t make it easy, Widow.” She laughed – a manic sound that made your gut twist. “Anyway, I best get on,” you said simply. “I am being hunted.”

“Oh, don’t I know it, little one,” she sang. A bubble of gum popped as she spoke, and she went on her way, swinging her hips and jumping at the crowd to make them yell with fear.

The archway to the ride section of the park loomed as you walked towards it, and you took a deep breath. On the exhale, you heard a loud bang right next to you and you shrieked, jumping to the side and you slammed into the shoulder of a bystander. “Sorry, oh my god–I’m so s-” You stopped and your mouth fell open.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” the man purred. His head was covered in a black cowl with a red insignia, but his eyes were a striking blue – if he didn’t look so foreboding, you would have trusted him. Black armour covered his shoulders, that same red insignia plastered right on his chest. “Wouldn’t wanna run into the wrong fella ‘round here.”

“N-No, sorry,” you stuttered.

For some unknown reason, this particular actor struck a deep chord of fear within you – just like The Soldat did.

He smirked – it was a dark, sinister pull of his lips that made you shudder. “Run along now, little lamb.”

You squeaked and shuffled off, keenly aware of his eyes watching after you.

The archway was only a few feet away when you looked up from your trainer-clad feet, only to freeze in place. A man, clad in black and eyes lined with kohl, stared straight back at you while flipping a knife in his left hand. The glint of metal caught you by surprise, and you abruptly realised the reason his hand was so cold against your mouth the previous night was because it was made of metal.

Your heart pounded against your ribs as you stared at him, and him at you.

He was leaning against the wall with an arm across his chest, and he didn’t seem bothered by the crowds around him giving him such a wide berth that the archway was almost impassible. You noticed a set of hard knee guards over the canvas of his pants, and heavy boots ladened and covered with straps were on his feet.

“Oh, no,” you breathed, blinking owlishly at him. His stare didn’t waver, but if you weren’t mistaken, you watched the corner of one of his eyes crinkle. The bastard was smirking.

“Ah, my little kotenok,” he called, his voice as raspy and deep as it was the night before. “I told you I would find you.” The knife slipped back into a holster at his hip, and he strode forward. You only took a few hesitant steps back. “Where are you off to, devochka?”

“Anywhere but here.” You turned and bolted in the opposite direction, ignoring the way people watched you flee with widened eyes. “Can’t catch me this time!”

“Oh, YA by snova podumal, kotenok,” he said right behind you. “You can only run so far.”

You screamed and ran faster, laughing as you did so – almost in hysterics from the adrenaline, when the footsteps behind you suddenly stopped. Instinct told you that you were not safe, he was indeed a ghost that you could not outrun, but damn it all if you weren’t going to try.

“And there she goes, run, lamb,” Widow called ahead of you, and she bowed as you ran past. “Run, run, as fast you can–Soldat will catch you!”

“Not helpful!” you yelled back over your shoulder, and her laughter could be heard over the loud music.

Yesterday had taught you a valuable lesson, and no matter how many empty and dark alleyways you passed, you did not stop to rest – only sticking to the main walkways as you panted and slowed down to a stop. People looked at you as they passed, but you brushed off their curious stares as you heaved for breath, hands on your knees.

A bench was only a few feet away, and you decided it wasn't too much of a risk just to sit down – you were still in the open and there were minimal shadows for the Soldat to hide. It was a flat bench situated in front of a garden of sorts; plants of all sizes and dark colours flourishing.

“Fuck,” you huffed, and you sat down heavily on the hard surface. “This shit is insane.”

Cold metal closed over your mouth, and your muffled shout went ignored as knees pressed into your back, or, more accurately, hard plastic knee guards. The same ones that you saw the Soldat wearing. “I told you, kotenok,” he growled. His knife dug into your neck, pinching the skin. “You cannot run from me. I will hunt you.”

“You’re such an ass,” you grumbled behind his hand, and you gasped as he yanked you back. The new position allowed you to look into his eyes; a haunting, predatory glint danced across the shades of grey.

“Povtori. Nemnogo gromche,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes.

The danger in his tone made you gulp, a painful action with the angle of your neck. “What?”

“I said, devochka,” he snapped, the tip of his blade dancing across your jugular. “Say that a little louder for me.”

Oh, no, you thought, and you shook your head. Pain shot down your legs and you shuffled them In an attempt to alleviate the pressure on your spine.

Soldat clicked his tongue, evidently disappointed. “Run, then, kotenok. When I catch you again, you will regret it.” He shoved you forward and he disappeared into the shrubs.

It was like he wasn’t even there in the first place.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned, getting to your feet with a wince. The music of the park was louder in your ears, screams and cries of shock even more so as you frantically looked around for a new escape route.

For what felt like only a few moments, you were free – walking briskly between attractions and groups of visitors to throw off the tail you knew was on you, when it happened. You had only stopped for a second, just to look and decide whether to turn left or right, when you heard a group of women cry out and point behind you.

Your stomach swooped with fear. A sharp exhale left your lips before you turned on the balls of your feet to face your assailant, only, he was right there – barely a foot of distance between your bodies. His head was tilted, long, dark hair drifted over the holes in his mask, and his eyes were fixed on you; both a sense of bright curiosity and dark foreboding flashing across them in equal measure.

“You are not very good at the game of cat and mouse, little kotenok,” he mused, and a sparkle of mischief twinkled in his eyes for a split second. “Maybe I should teach you.”

People swarmed around you, excited to be getting a proper look at the infamous Soldat, but he didn’t seem perturbed by the attention.

You fought against your heart that seemed to have made its new home in your throat, and you stammered a quiet, “You’re just too damn good at your job.”

A huff of breath blew his hair up and off the mask. “You flatter me.” He looked around then at the crowd, like he was assessing it for his own escape route. “Would you like to try again, little one?” He looked back at you, brow raised. “You seem to have garnered quite the reputation for being a sassy feyyerverk.”

“Firework?”

“Close,” he hummed. “My little kotenok is a firecracker–fierce and cute.”

Cute? “Soldat,” you said, unable to keep the sense of disbelief from your tone, “Are you-”

“Run,” he intoned, interrupting you. He pulled a knife from the holster at his hip and brandished it. You caught his subtle glance to the alleyway between two attractions that seemed to be dying in popularity.

You blanched at the sight of the knife, and you took off running in the direction he glanced at. People around you scattered as your feet hit the pavement, and you could hear Soldat run in a different direction, away from you.

The alleyway was deserted, as you hoped, and you leaned against the fence to catch your breath. “At least I have my cardio done,” you huffed, hand over your chest.

“That is an understatement,” a voice said in the shadows, a ghost of a laugh in their voice.

“Ah! What the fuck!”

The Soldat appeared, flipping his knife as he stared at you. “Such a flighty thing, aren’t you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms. “Says the one that had me fleeing through the park for a second night in a row.”

“Guilty.” He shrugged a shoulder, then holstered his knife. “I cannot help it, kotenok. I love the chase.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have known,” you deadpanned, and you sighed when you saw his eyes crinkle in what you knew was a cheeky grin. “Anyway, what does the infamous, shadowed Soldat want, huh?”

He leaned against the fence and crossed his arms, still watching you intently. “I did not lie when I said that you… Intrigued me–your waiver was most amusing.” There was a beat of silence, then, “As I hunted you these past two nights, I watched you with my colleagues. You were never frightened–shocked, yes, but not frightened. I have made a name for myself with this character I play, and I have never encountered anyone–let alone a woman, that was not terrified of me.”

You blinked. “And this means–?”

“It means that for once in my life,” he began, and you couldn’t help but notice the change in his voice – the accent was almost nonexistent and his demeanour became hospitable, almost friendly. It made you so overwhelmingly curious on how he acted out of character. “Well, it means that I am breaking out of my ‘infamous character’ and his tendencies, and I am going to ask you out on a date.”

“A date?” you repeated, absolutely floored. The sounds of the park were muted in the background, and all you could hear was the hammering of your heart in your ears; feel it in your throat. “You- You are asking me out on a date?”

Soldat raised a brow and then shook his head, as though he was exasperated. “What, you need your hearing checked as well as your attitude?”

“Hey!” you laughed, slapping his shoulder. The leather was warm to the touch, and you immediately drew back. “Where did this sass come from?”

He shrugged and looked down at his feet, fidgeting. “No one knows. It’s nice to be able to sass someone in costume–it’s amusing.”

“I didn’t know you were such a little shit,” you stated. “I mean, I could have guessed since you chase people for a living–and you’re too damn good at it, too.”

He bowed low and spread his arms. “Thank you, princess.”

“Shut up.”

A moment of silence passed as you looked into his face and the earnest, open look of his eyes stirred something in you. Feelings long dormant – ones that had been non-existent for many moons, it felt – rose and swirled in your stomach, bringing butterflies to life. They fluttered and flocked around, the foreign sensation setting your nerves aflame.

“I will–go on a date; with you,” you clarified, smiling softly.

His face brightened and you suspected his grin would have been blinding if the mask wasn’t hiding it from view. “I get off this shift in an hour,” he explained, looking over your shoulder. “I’ll meet you by the entrance. I’ll take you out for–how about a milkshake?”

“Oh, my god, yes,” you rushed, nodding vehemently. “What about that diner?”

Soldat nodded once. “Sounds like a plan, doll.”

Your stomach swooped again and you were speechless at the sweet pet name. “I- What do I–?”

“Name’s Bucky,” Soldat offered. “I’d take your hand and I would kiss your knuckles–be a real Disney prince, but,” he gestured at the mask. “I’ll save that for later.”

“Okay,” you breathed, still unable to believe what was happening. Just as you offered your name, Bucky stepped closer and you let him bring you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around him – a gentle hug that conveyed all of what you couldn’t express. “I will see you later?”

“You betcha.” Bucky squeezed your shoulder and walked past you. “Go have fun. I’ll find you.”

You grinned at him as he walked backwards. “Go get ‘em, tiger!” He saluted and jogged off, sticking to the shadows.

For the entire hour you explored the park, watching as visitors scrambled from actors or fawned over certain ones as the stalked past. There was the occasion that you caught a glimpse of Bucky as he followed different people, but he never broke character to acknowledge you, nor did he even glance your way.

It afforded you the opportunity to watch from an outsider’s vantage point – after having been so thoroughly been chased over the past two days. You could never stop and admire just how skilled Bucky was at his job. His muscled frame was surprisingly lithe and agile, and whenever his target searched for him, he’d always expertly hide, successfully out of sight but never out of mind.

A perfect tactic if you’d ever seen one; drive the target mad with the feeling of being watched while slowly, carefully covering the distance, before pouncing.

The hour wore on and as it ticked over, you made your way to the main entrance. At this hour, the crowds had started to thin out, leaving behind only the very dedicated patrons – all of which flocked in packs and walked back and forth, taunting the actors.

You leaned against the gate and contently watched people pass by, wondering just where Bucky would be, when a figure approached.

A large duffle bag was slung over his shoulder, of which were exceptionally broad and pulled the dark red henley taut over his chest. Tight, dark jeans stretched over his thighs, while black combat boots thumped over the pavement.

The stranger looked up and met your gaze, and your heart stopped; ceasing its rhythm entirely. You’d know those eyes anywhere, you had seen them for two nights in a row, covered and lined with kohl, but they were no less distinctive.

His hair, while loose and greasy as his time in character, was now damp and clean, a slight curl at the ends that came to his jaw.

“Hey, doll,” he greeted, grinning widely as he stood in front of you. “You ready to go?”

Words failed you. You blinked, opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again-

Bucky laughed. “I know, I look different. I can’t walk around looking like someone’s worst nightmare all the time.”

“Different?” you parroted, gesturing at his chest, then just at his body in general. “Where the hell were you hiding all this?”

“You have to be fit to keep up with mischievous kittens, don’t you?” he teased. The words made your whole body heat, but you were saved from responding when he nodded to the parking lot. “Now, if you’re done bein’ starstruck, doll, let’s head out and get those milkshakes.”

“Huh,” you managed, voice thin. “Yeah–yeah, let’s go.”

Bucky grinned and grabbed your hand, pulling you along. “So, what’s your favourite–milkshake, I mean.”

“That’s a loaded question.” The two of you came to a stop at a classic muscle car, the paint gleaming under the tall, overhead lights. “Nice car, Buck,” you praised.

“Why, thank you, sweetheart,” he purred, throwing the duffle bag in the trunk. “I built her from the ground up.”

The drive to the diner was a little while, the time filled with small talk that didn’t venture past anything you wouldn’t discuss as friends. It drove your curiosity – Bucky was such a well spoken man, never presumptuous and he respected you, not to mention he seemed to be intrigued with anything you offered him.

He asked you about your job, what you did in your spare time; hobbies, dreams, things that you felt so safe to offer him, and he offered you the same in return.

You found out he had been a scare actor for his youth, too – working hard to save up for his car, and to provide for his family.

“For years,” he began as he pulled up to a stop light. “I shadowed a man that no one really knew much about. But, when I tell you that he was a master at what he did? I am not lyin’ one bit.” The engine purred as he shifted back into first gear when the light turned green. “He taught me all I know.”

The diner came into view a few moments later, and the obnoxious red and pink lighting stood out amongst the other late night dwellings. Bucky pulled the car into a park by the entrance, slipping out the driver’s seat to jog over and open your door. “Madame,” he said, bowing as you stood up.

You laughed a little and stepped to the side so Bucky could close the door, and the chirp of the car alarm sounded soon after. “I love this place,” you said quickly, walking towards the door – of which Bucky opened before you could even get a hand on the handle. “It’s always got the best milkshakes.”

“I have to agree,” Bucky offered, going to the counter. “Pick a seat for us. I’ll order.”

There was a booth free in the corner, out of the way and shielded from prying eyes of other patrons that sipped at their drinks or dug into their baskets of food, even at this late hour.

Bucky soon slid into the bench seat of the booth opposite to you, a smile on his lips, when you suddenly blurted, “You are so different to your character.” There was a beat of silence as he comfortably situated himself, and you felt compelled to go on. “Don’t get me wrong, Buck, you are one of the best guys I’ve ever met. It is just so surprising that you can switch so easily. The Soldat is terrifying, if I’m honest.”

“Practice.” He placed his chin on his fist, looking into your face. “I’ve been doing this for years now. You leave your character when you take off the costume–sure, he’s me, but he’s also pretty fucked up. It’s an act. He doesn’t leave the park–he gets packed up in my duffle at the end of every shift.”

You mirrored his posture, smiling as he winked at you. “It’s just fascinating, that’s all.”

“You’re cute when you’re curious,” Bucky said quietly, and you blinked. “I mean it, doll. It’s sweet. Not to mention refreshing.”

“Well,” you started, scrambling for words as your tongue seemed to tie itself. “You- Interesting doesn’t cover it.”

“Aren’t you good at makin’ a fella feel special,” he cooed, a slight, rosy blush high on his cheeks.

For what felt like hours, you sat opposite Bucky, learning about him while he learned all about you – it was an instant connection that you had never felt before, not with anyone. You learned that he had sisters and that he was a twin, and his best friend was called Steve who also worked at the same park.

“You may have seen him tonight, actually,” Bucky ventured, biting his bottom lip. “He was wearing his black get-up, red insignias?”

“Oh! Yeah,” you said quickly, slapping your hand down on the table. “I bumped into him! He scared the daylights out of me.”

Bucky laughed. “Lemme guess, he pulled out the charm card, then decided to tell you to run?”

“Yes!” you cried, eyes wide. “What is his deal?”

“He’s up there with me, he just loves fuckin’ with lone visitors. He takes after me for that, punk,” Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

“You tell him, from me, that he is an asshole.”

“Will do,” Bucky promised, winking. “Stevie’ll take it like a compliment, knowin’ him.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. The sky was lightening up outside, and you baulked at the clock hanging from the wall across the diner. It was the early morning – you had stayed out with Bucky for hours, literal hours, and you hadn’t even realised.

Bucky turned around to look as well, and he chuckled. “I think we both got places to be today?” he questioned, looking back at you. “And we got tonight, too.”

“Uh, yeah,” you agreed, yawning slightly. “You’ll be there tonight?”

Bucky nodded. “‘Course I will–you?”

You hummed an ascent and rose from the sticky leather seat of the booth. “I’ll call a cab. I can’t wait to get a few hours of shut eye.”

“Wait,” Bucky quietly said, offering his hand. “I paid already–no, don’t argue with me–can I take you home, doll? Please?”

You hesitated, but he had never revealed any red flags, not that you had noticed. He had been the perfect gentleman, and you couldn’t help but feel attached to him already, which, objectively, biassed your point of view. “If you’re sure,” you replied, raising a brow. “I don’t want to impose-”

“You never could, sweetheart,” Bucky assured softly. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”

When Bucky pulled up to the curb of your apartment, he killed the engine and made to get out of the car. “You don’t have to-” You started, but Bucky shook his head. “Alright, alright,” you said quietly. More to yourself, you muttered, “Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.”

“I would hope not,” Bucky said, right next to you.

You jumped and shrieked, a cut off noise that made Bucky laugh. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Nah. I don’t think I will.”

At your door, Bucky stepped back and waited for you to unlock the door with your keys, but before you stepped inside, you turned to him, biting your lip. “I had a really good time tonight, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky beamed proudly. “Anytime, doll. Would you want to go out with me again? I don’t care if it’s too soon to ask,” he rushed, not allowing you a chance to interject. “I had a fun time with you tonight. You’re sweet, witty–intelligent, too.”

“Flatterer,” you accused, willing your heart to slow. “It’s working, though. And yes, I’d love to go out with you again. How about after Halloween?”

“Sounds perfect to me, baby,” he said quietly, and you felt heat rise on your neck. Your heart skipped a beat and you shied away slightly, so unused to attention. “Can I have your number? I can text you so you have mine.”

You took his offered phone and typed your number in, careful to get it correct in your tired state. “Here you go,” you whispered, blinking sluggishly. “You’ll get home safely?”

“Of course,” Bucky said confidently. “You gonna be alright for the night? You look dead on your feet, doll.”

“I’ll be fine.” You stepped forward and embraced him, hugging him with all your remaining strength. His arms wrapped around you and he sighed happily. “Thank you for tonight–text me when you get home?”

“Will do,” Bucky offered.

Tension filled the air as you pulled back, and you considered whether you should act on the urge to kiss him – to embody the true want to be close to him. Fuck it, you thought.

Bucky seemed to anticipate it or want it just as bad. He met you halfway, bringing you into his chest as his lips met yours. It wasn’t chaste and it stole your breath, and in that singular second, you decided you wanted more – but at least, not for right now.

You wanted a second date, first.

Pulling back, you smiled and Bucky smirked. “And that’ll get me home jus’ fine, sweetheart.” You giggled and stepped back, moving towards the door just as Bucky said, “Goodnight, baby. Have a good sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow–don’t forget that we have a game of cat and mouse to play.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased. The inside of your apartment was quiet as you slipped inside. “See you tomorrow, Buck.”

He waved, and you closed the door quietly, resting your forehead on the cool wood as you took deep, steadying breaths.

A sense of anticipation settled over you – Halloween was the busiest night of the year at that park, and you knew that Bucky would not let you get away so easily as he allowed before. You would just have to outsmart him, or attempt to, at least.

That night, after curling up in bed, you slept and dreamed of a shadowed man, running and chasing after you, his laughter loud and carefree.

devochka = girl ya by snova podumal, kotenok = I would think again, kitten povtori. nemnogo gromche = repeat that. a little louder. feyyerverk = firework/firecracker