Possessed - Bucky Barnes x OC

Part 25

Maggie awoke to an earth shattering headache.

She let out a groan, clutching her aching stomach. She barely remembered a thing from the night before. After she met Thor, everything went spotty. She thought she brought Loki home with her, but didn't remember how they even got back. The empty spot beside her made her think it might've just been a dream.

A wave of nausea washed over her, making her jolt from her bed. She hunched over the toilet bowl, spitting out the contents of her stomach. When she had nothing left to give, she plopped down onto the cold tile floor, resting her elbow on the toilet seat. She felt disgusting. Last night was a mistake. Anxiety tightened her chest at the thought of how sloppy she must've been at such a prestigious club.

She remembered kissing Loki on the couch. She shuddered at the thought of people watching them. Did they have sex? She slipped her fingers into her panties, swiping over her folds. She didn't feel sore at all which was a good sign. She sighed in relief and slowly stood to her feet. She gasped when she looked in the mirror. Her makeup was smeared under her eyes, making her look like a raccoon. Her hair was tangled mess. She was wearing one of her oversized Pratt tees from school, which she didn't remember changing into. Shrugging to herself, she left the bathroom.

Padding barefoot down the hall, into the kitchen, she filled herself a large glass of water and instantly started chugging it down. The nausea was back and she lunged to the sink, puking into it. Shit. Drink slower, she thought to herself. Bringing the glass back to her lips, she took small sips.

She heard her front door open, making her movements halt. Booming footsteps moved through her living room, towards her. James rounded the corner, carrying a paper bag. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back into the counter.

His head snapped up to her. "Morning." He said, tone frigid.

Her eyes flicked over the counter to her knife block. Reaching over, she pulled one from its spot, raising it in front of herself. "What are you doing here?"

James lip twitched with a smirk, looking down at her tiny shaking hand, wrapped tightly around the handle of the knife. He knew he could do more damage with his pinky finger than she could with the sharp blade she wielded. He silently laughed to himself at the thought of her even trying something. "I brought you breakfast." He raised the paper bag in his hand.

"Why?" She said, warily.

"I figured you'd need food. You drank a lot last night."

"How would you know that?"

He sighed, setting the bag down on the small table behind him. "Why must you quiz me on everything, doll?" She looked down at her feet. "I stayed over last night."

"Y—You did? No, no I was out with Loki."

"If it makes you feel any better, I slept on the couch. Now, if you'd care to put down the knife and sit with me, we can discuss last night." She hesitated. "I'm not going to hurt you, Margaret. Sit down, please."

Finally conceding, she put it back into its slot and slowly walked over to the table. He started pulling the paper boxes out of the bag, stacking them in the middle of the table, then peeking inside each one to divide them evenly.

She watched his every movement. He was so calm and focused. She also noticed his right hand was wrapped in gauze. Opening up the boxes, to find pancakes and hash browns. She nearly gagged at the smell. "I don't know if I can eat this. I've thrown up twice already."

"Eat. Go slow, but you have to eat." His voice was unwavering, as he gathered a bite for himself, then shoved it in his mouth. "So, about last night."