Fiery Hatred || Bucky Barnes x OC

don't blame me

TW: Gun play 

They arrived at Bucky's secret destination in the early hours of the morning. Harley was passed out in the front seat, head falling limp against Bucky's shoulder. 

He had spent about an hour trying to console her until she finally fell asleep and he could keep driving. He was tired but just wanted to keep driving so they could get there as soon as possible. 

Harley's eyes fluttered open as the car engine stuttered to a stop in the enormous driveway. She froze for a moment at the sigh, rubbing her eyes to wake herself up. 

"Hey baby, we're here." Bucky whispered slowly getting out of the car, pulling Harley out with him. He walked her up to the front door, fishing in his pockets for his keys. Harley took a step back to admire the building.

She was in awe. It was the most beautiful house she had ever seen. Built from stone, it looked like a castle. With turrets and archways and stain glass windows. It was beautiful. She smiled widely at Bucky who had already pushed open the large oak doors. 

"Bucky this is..." She said breathlessly. Taking a step inside she gazed around the tall ceilings. A completely wooden interior with an enormous double staircase leading to mezzanine. Thee banisters were beautifully carved, with swirls and twirls cascading down the staircase.  "It's beautiful, how the hell did you find this?" 

"My parents built it. My mom was a fan of the Victorian gothic so my father had this built for her." He said looking around the foyer. He'd spent many a summer here as a child but never seemed to find time to get there anymore. But he knew it was something he wanted to share with her.

"It's amazing, your mom had good taste." Harley smiled.

"Yeah, she did." Bucky said, a solemn look resting on his face. "Well, I'll go bring in the bags and take them to the master bedroom. You can go explore. I know you want to." He winked heading back out the door. 

Harley squealed silently, desperate to search every room. She kicked off her shoes and swiftly hopping up the stairs. 

She wandered through each room, admiring the décor, the paintings hanging on the walls, the bespoke furniture. It was like stepping back in time. 

After she had been through every room upstairs she made her way back downstairs, keeping an eye out for Bucky. A silly thing to believe she'd actually find him again in his maze of a house. 

It was bigger than the upstairs, with many huge living rooms, a study and the biggest kitchen Harley had ever seen. 

Once she was bored she attempted to find her way back to the main foyer with very little luck. Every corridor looked the same and she didn't remember which ones she had been down or not. 

Eventually she found a door she was sure to take her back to where she knew where she was. But instead it lead to a darkened staircase. Harley hummed and shrugged reaching inside in search of a light switch. A strip of lights above her illuminated the stairs. Concrete and dirty. 

She descended, leaving the door open just in case there was a murderer down there and she needed to escape. 

As she reached the bottom her jaw dropped open. 

She squeezed her eyes shut to assure herself that this was real. It was.

The basement must've span the entire width of the house, going on for miles. But dividing up the room was rows and rows of shelves, each illuminated with bright LED lights. 

"Holy fuck." She whispered as she stared at the contents of the shelves. 

Guns. 

A fuck ton of fucking guns. And knives. And what she could only assume to be more fucking guns.