#sad Bucky

[lokiswifeduh]

Long Night

Pairings - Roommate!tfatws!Bucky x Fem!Roommate!Reader

Summary - You've been stood up twice in a row now. Bucky is tired of seeing you disappointed. So he takes you on a date.

Warnings - angst, being stood up, angry/annoyed bucky

Notes - I'm horrible at summaries, I know!! This happened to me a couple days ago, wishing I had a Bucky to take me on a date in Brooklyn right about now! Not proofread so lmk if there are any mistakes! Thank you for reading loves!!

WC - 1,750

masterlist

"Whatcha gettin' ready for, doll?" Bucky leaned on your bedroom doorframe, watching you straighten your hair in the mirror on top of your dresser.

"I have a date." You smiled, not noticing the slight drop in Bucky's smile.

"Oh, with anyone I know?"

You shook your head. "His name's Nash. Someone Sam set me up with," You explained. "He's supposed to pick me up in twenty minutes."

Bucky internally rolled his eyes. The guys Sam hung around with were nice, yes. However, he never got the guts to take you out on the date you deserved. A date with him.

"Are you sure you want him picking you up?" Bucky asked, making you look back in confusion. "I mean you don't know him that well... You could meet him there or uh, I'll drop you off." You let out a small laugh, "Yeah Buck, I'll just have my male roommate drop me off at a date, that'll go over well."

Bucky shrugged. He walked away from your bedroom to grab a beer from the fridge before sitting on the couch. He turned on whatever channel didn't require him to use the remote too much before slouching into the cushions.

Twenty minutes passed by when you slipped out of your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

"Wow, doll. You.." Bucky's eyes widened slightly, "You look great."

You grinned, looking down at your outfit. It was basic but it was the most comfortable yet fashionable outfit you had. Black flared leggings with a sage green sweater and some white sneakers. It was simple yet appropriate for a late-night-diner date.

And to top it all off your makeup had cooperated for once. Both eyebrows looked like twins and not sisters. Your highlight was perfect, shimmering, but not too much. And you had the perfect lipgloss that made your lips look sunkissed. Perfect.

"He should be here any minute!" You sprayed some perfume, your favorite vanilla scent, and went to sit in the armchair across from the couch.

Bucky hummed, keeping his eyes on the Tv, taking another sip of beer.

However, twenty more minutes went by and Nash hadn't texted you, hadn't called, and hadn't shown up. Bucky was starting to feel bad and you could tell by the pity looks he kept throwing your way.

"He uhm," Bucky cleared his throat, "Maybe he hit traffic. You know, with it being New York and everything." You nodded, trying to hold onto at least a small bit of hope. "Yeah, traffic." But then another forty minutes went by and he still hadn't even texted.

And then another hour.

And another hour.

By the time Bucky finally turned off the Tv it was three and a half hours since the time Nash was supposed to come pick you up.

You were still sitting in the armchair, having dozed off with a couple tears streaked down your face. Ruining your once-perfect makeup.

Bucky sighed, silently cursing Sam even though he knew it wasn't his fault.

"Alright, doll," Bucky whispered, placing his metal arm behind your back, and lifting your legs with his right. You groaned awake, holding your phone in your palm as you wiped your cheek. "What time is it?" Your eyes shoot open, "Did he show up?" Bucky placed you in your bed, handing you one of his t-shirts you had stolen a while ago. "No, doll. I'm sorry." You stripped your shirt off to change as Bucky went into your bathroom, grabbing a couple of makeup wipes.

"Here." He softly spoke, hating your distraught and disappointed expression.

You wiped your makeup off, shedding a couple more tears in the process. The tears dripped from your cheek to the grey henley Bucky had given you. "It's okay. Maybe he was just busy." Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. He wanted to tell you that any respectful man, any gentleman wouldn't have done what Nash did to you. But he kept his mouth shut, opting to hum in your favor, and threw the makeup wipes in the trash when your face was completely bare.

"Goodnight, Doll." He placed a kiss on the crown of your head as you hummed in response. "Goodnight, Buck."

---

A couple days later, you finally got a text back from Nash.

"Bucky I was right!!" You came sliding into the kitchen, your socks making it easy to ice-skate on the smooth wood floor.

Bucky chuckled at your ability to skid so gracefully without falling. He had tried it once but vowed to never do it again after he slid into the dining room table. You would never let him live it down.

"Right about what, doll?" Bucky flipped the pancake, adding some vanilla to the dough.

"About Nash! He actually was busy!" Bucky quirked an eyebrow. Wondering why he had waited this long to text you back. Six days to be exact. "Did he say with what?" Bucky turned back to making breakfast.

"He said he got busy with work, and that something at work pissed him off so he didn't wanna see me while he was upset." You explained what Nash had told you.

Bucky had never wanted to hit someone in the face so hard.

Well, actually that wasn't true. But he did want to sock Nash in the face for standing you up and giving you a half-ass excuse days later.

"I mean that explains things, yeah..." Your brows furrowed at Bucky's flat tone. "Do you not believe it?" Bucky sighed, pulling the milk and eggs from the fridge as you sat on the countertop. "It's not that I don't believe it, it's just that it kinda seems like he forgot and or didn't wanna see you so he made up an excuse a little less than a week later to not seem like a dick." You nodded, taking in the information. Bucky couldn't sense your reaction quite yet, seeing how you were just staring at the ground with your hands in your lap, swinging your legs in the air.

"I mean, I'm seeing him tonight. If everything goes well after then I'll know it really was true."

"You're seeing him again?" You nod, "But this time I'm meeting him at the fourth corner Bakery. And I'm meeting him earlier this time, around noon."

Bucky looked over at the clock, seeing it was already 10:45. "Well you better go get ready," He said almost reluctantly, "Breakfast will be done before you need to leave."

You smiled, hopping off the countertop as you gave Bucky a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Buck. You're the best!"

He smiled, but then remembered he's only making you breakfast before you go on a date with a guy who's already stood you up once. Rolling his eyes, he scrambled the eyes, listening to your music in the other room.

---

You had already left for your date three hours ago when Bucky decided to go over to see Sam. His excuse was wanting to discuss the next mission they were due to go on in a week. But he just didn't want to sit at home all day, thinking about how you were on a date with another guy.

However, before he could reach Sam's he had to pass by the bakery where you were meeting Nash.

Yet when he looked through the window, there you were, sitting all alone at a table for two, eating a piece of cheesecake. No Nash in sight.

An internal war started in Bucky's mind. Should he go in and see if you were okay? Or should he believe Nash was in the bathroom and you were just sitting by yourself for a minute or two?

But then he noticed the solemn look on your face. The way your fork poked at the half-eaten cake. And that was your favorite kind. Bucky mumbled a soft curse, opening the door to the bakery and making his way over to you.

Without words, he sat down, his gloved hand resting on the table in front of your plate. You kept your head down, not quite looking at Bucky but knowing he was there.

"He didn't show, again." You mumbled. If Bucky didn't have super soldier hearing he doubted he could've heard what you had said.

"I know, doll. I'm sorry." You finally looked up, tears in your eyes which made Bucky's heart clench. "Why me, Buck? Why am I the one who's alone?" Bucky stayed silent, knowing you needed to vent.

"Am I unlovable? Is that what it is? Why does every single one of my friends get to find the one? Get to fall in love, get married, and have kids and I'm the one without someone?!" Your outburst made some other customers look over in concern.

You groaned, resting your head on your hand and hiding your face from the rest of the bakery. "I- uh, I'm not sure, doll. But I know one thing.. you're not unlovable. You just haven't found the one who wants to take the effort to show you how effortless you are to love."

You looked up at Bucky, fresh tears gleaming in your eyes. You had never seen him look so vulnerable before. He usually grumped his way through emotions. But not with you, not anymore.

He gave you a sad smile, clearing his throat before he stood, "Y'know what, doll. Let's go." He held out his hand. You looked around, "Where are we going?" Bucky took your palm in his gloved hand, "It's a surprise." You laughed, before standing and throwing the rest of your soggy cheesecake away. "You know how I feel about surprises." "Okay, I'll give you a hint." Bucky opened the door for you, making sure to walk on the side of the road with the bustling cars and traffic. Bucky called a taxi, opening the door for you. "You're about to have the best date of your life." You stared at him in awe before laughing and climbing in the taxi. Bucky's knees barely fit as he scooted in next to you. The driver asked where to go as Bucky licked his lips, "Brooklyn, please." You smiled, "Brooklyn?"

Bucky nodded, throwing an arm around your shoulder. "I may be old but I still know some good spots to take my best girl on a date." A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked over to him. "Your best girl?" Bucky nodded, picking up your hand with his metal one before leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. "Always and forever, doll."

---

masterlist

#buckybarnes #marvel #fanfic #bucky angst #avengers #fluff #oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #fem!reader #sam wilson #lokiswifeduh #i dont have any writing ideas #i hate writers block #does anyone read fanfiction anymore #i had popcorn for dinner #bucky barnes smut #angst #sad bucky #sad bucky fanfiction #bucky x sad!reader #bucky loves plums #i quit my job #marvel imagine #james buchanan barnes

[wintersoldiersoul]

Tolerate It

A/N: I think I might make a part 2 to this... if you guys would want that lmk!

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Bucky shuts you out. (Based on Tolerate It by Taylor Swift)

Warnings: sad, Bucky is kind of an ass, angst,

It started a few months ago when a mission went wrong. You watched helplessly as the Winter Soldier trigger words were spoken in Bucky’s ear. You screamed and cried, begging and hoping that the deprogramming he had gone through had really stuck. You saw him shift for only a minute before he regained control. But you saw it. That cold emptiness in his eyes was terrifying.

You tried to comfort him as best you could afterwards. You cooked him all of his favorite meals, decorating the table with flowers and the nicest plates you owned, hoping that maybe it would bring just a tiny bit of excitement back to his life. You tried to make everything as easy as possible for him, washing every single dish in the sink, doing his laundry, you just wanted him to focus on feeling better.  But the things that happened on that mission had shaken him and it wasn’t something that your affection could fix.

Every time though, he would notice the meal on the table and walk right by you without even saying a word. He saw his laundry, clean and folded in the drawers, and would only respond by giving you an empty look. You knew he was going through a hard time but eventually, you started to believe that it was your fault. He didn’t love you anymore. He just tolerated you.

You gave him space, hoping and praying that eventually he’d be okay. That the light inside of him would turn back on and he would go back to the man you had given your heart to. But life doesn't work like that.

Nothing had returned to normal, even now. Bucky was functioning again, going on missions, hanging out with Steve and Sam, but with you, he was different. Gone was the loving man who would tear down buildings for you. You barely even saw him. He’d leave in the morning before you were awake and come back long after you went to sleep, stumbling in drunk and passing out on the couch. The two of you hadn’t exchanged more than a few words a day for months. And it was breaking you apart.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Being in this limbo where you were his yet you weren’t. Part of you wished he’d just break up with you so that you could try to move on. You’d never have the heart to leave him. 

It was 3am. You were wide awake and based on the sound of the TV out in the living room, you knew he was, too. You got out of bed and wrapped your blanket around yourself before making your way out to the living room. Bucky was seated on the couch, eyes on the TV screen but not really watching it.

You tentatively sat down, waiting for his mouth to open to tell you to go away. “Buck,” you said quietly, reaching your hand out to take his. He flinched when he felt your flesh graze his, quickly pulling away. “Bucky, please,” you pleaded. You wanted to hug him so badly. You needed to feel him and hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. 

But he didn’t respond to you. He just continued to stare ahead. You sat with him for a while, just relieved that he wasn’t telling you to leave. That counted for something, right? 

“You should get some sleep,” he eventually said. He didn’t actually care about how much sleep you got. He just wanted you to go away.

Wordlessly, you got up and left, crying yourself to sleep alone once again. You couldn’t help but blame yourself. Bucky could talk to Steve and Sam and all of the other Avengers but he didn’t wanna talk to you. You were too overbearing. You talked too much. You were too young for him. Never smart enough. You’d never make him happy. But you couldn’t let him go. 

The next day, Bucky was working in his office, the door shut and locked. You knocked softly, afraid to disturb him, but you couldn’t do this anymore. You constantly felt like you were drowning, unable to get a full breath of air in. “Bucky? P-please, can you let me in?”

You heard a sigh and footsteps as he approached, opening the door. He looked at you, eyes full of that same coldness that you had grown accustomed to. “What?”

You took a deep breath and tried to steady your shaking hands. You missed how things used to be when at the slightest sign of your anxiety he would scoop you into his arms, hugging you tight and telling you that everything would be okay. But now, he stared at your trembling body and did nothing. “I-I can’t keep doing this anymore. I need you to let me in. I need you to talk to me.” Tears fell from your eyes as soon as you started speaking. You really didn’t wanna cry but you couldn’t help it. Every time he looked at you with that empty stare, you felt like your whole body was ripping into a thousand pieces.

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” he said, emotionless.

“Did I do something? I- I just-”

“Y/N, just stop it, okay? I said I don’t wanna talk to you!” He yelled. 

You were taken aback. Half of you was expecting him to hug you, telling you how sorry he was for yelling. But he didn’t. He just stood, chest heaving and anger on his face. “You don’t mean that,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, I do. I don’t wanna talk to you and I don’t wanna see you,” he answered before slamming the door in your face. 

And you broke. You slid down the wall, unable to keep yourself up any longer. You knew for a fact that he could hear your sobs from the other side of the door but he didn’t come to comfort you. This man, the man that you loved, the man who you thought loved you, was letting you cry alone. Was letting you cry because of him. And he didn’t even care.

Eventually, you picked yourself up and made your way to your room. You crawled into his side of the bed, trying to take in the faint remnants of his comforting scent. You sobbed for hours until you fell asleep.

 You were awoken by the rustling of clothes. “Bucky?” you said groggily, seeing the outline of his figure moving through the room.

“I’m going to Steve’s. I’ll come get the rest of my stuff later this week.” Each word punctured a hole in your chest. Why couldn’t you have just been enough?

“Bucky, please don’t do this,” you whispered, fighting your hardest to not cry again. But even if you did, he wouldn’t care, “Please, just talk to me.”

“Y/N, stop it.” His words were so robotic. “Just stop it. It’s done. We’re done.”

You wanted to hole up in your bed forever. You wanted to sleep away the pain and wake up years later when maybe the ache of him missing in your chest had shrunk. But you couldn’t. Because you were a superhero. And people’s lives didn’t stop needing saving because you felt like you were dying.

So you pulled yourself out of bed. Forced yourself to head to the tower a week later when Steve called for an emergency meeting. You hadn’t slept or eaten, weight loss and dark circles giving you the illusion of a zombie. You didn’t have the energy to put on real clothes. You stayed in what had become your uniform: sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt.

As if the world was playing a cruel joke on you, the second you got off the elevator, you were face to face with Bucky. You swallowed hard, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he didn’t. He just looked at you, taking in how unwell you looked. How even in the week since he’d been gone, your frame had shrunk. He saw it. He noticed it. He just didn’t care.

“Why don’t we go undercover?” You suggested as a strategy for the mission that Steve was briefing you all for.

Bucky scoffed at your comment. “That’s like asking to get killed. God, do you ever use your brain?”

His comment hit you hard. But instead of only the blinding pain you had been feeling since he left, you also felt angry. How could this man who claimed to love you for so long speak to you that way?

You glared up at him. Even if you did die on this mission, would he even care? “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

 Steve shot you a look. “Y/N, come on. Not now.”

“What, Steve? I’m just saying what he’s thinking!” You were almost laughing as you spoke, the emotions of the situation becoming too much to handle. 

Bucky stood up from his seat. “I can’t do this. Steve, just fill me in later.” He slammed the door as he left.

The meeting ended but you couldn’t find the strength to move. You just sat in your chair staring mindlessly at the ground. 

“Y/N,” Steve said, calmly approaching you. “I know going through a break-up is hard.”

Is that really all that he thought this was? Just a break-up? Sure, you were experiencing the gut-wrenching heartbreak of no longer being Bucky’s girlfriend but you were also filled with so much self-loathing. You felt completely unlovable. You genuinely thought that if you disappeared from the face of the earth, not a single person would miss you. 

“Steve, what did Bucky tell you?” You asked. You knew Steve well enough to know that he wouldn’t dismiss the way you felt if he knew everything that was really going on.

“What do you mean? He told me what happened. He said you guys got into a fight and you ended it.” 

His words shocked you. Bucky was trying to blame you? He didn’t even give a fuck about what everyone else thought of you and your character? You couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that what he fucking told you? That I ended it? That we broke up in one night after one fight?”

Steve stared at you, confused. He didn’t know that there was a whole other side to the story. Your side. The truth. “Y/N, is that not what happened?” 

“No, that’s not what fucking happened, Steve!” You were losing it, both crying and laughing at the same time. “He hasn’t talked to me for months! Not since that mission where they used the trigger words. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t speak to me… he was sleeping on the couch! I gave him his space. And when I tried to talk to him again, he left. He fucking left. So no, Steve, that is not what happened.”

He stared in your direction and you thought he was looking at you but really, he was looking at the door where Bucky stood. “Thought you could fill me in on what I missed,” he said, not even looking at you or acknowledging what he had just overheard.

Steve was speechless for a second, not knowing what to do. “Um, yeah,” he finally spoke. “Let’s go.” Him and Bucky left the room leaving you once again, alone.

You cried alone in the boardroom for a while. As you were leaving the tower, you heard voices from down the hallway, yelling.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Captain America’s frustrated voice echoed down the hall to your ears. “She did nothing wrong, Buck. Why would you do that to her?”

“Steve, you don’t understand, okay?” Bucky responded. His voice sounded like…no. It couldn’t be possible. He couldn’t be crying.

“Then make me understand! Did you see her? Did you see how broken she looked? Do you not even care? I don’t get it, Buck. A week before that mission you were browsing engagement rings. And then you just…” he sighed. “Bucky that girl loves you more than anyone ever will.” 

“I know, Steve,” Bucky said sternly. 

“She would do anything for you. She would-” 

“Steve, I said I know!” Bucky’s voice rang out. Your heart raced as you listened. “I know she would. And I would do the same for her. That’s why-” his voice broke. “That’s why I had to do this.”

Your head was spinning. He had abandoned you, froze you out, made you feel like absolute shit because he loved you? 

There was a minute of silence before Bucky continued speaking. “What if I hurt her, Steve?” His voice sounded so soft. It was a tone you hadn’t heard from him in months. It made your heart ache. “The trigger words…they worked, you know. Only for a minute but…they worked.”

“That’s why you did this?” You said, stepping out from your hiding place and making your presence known.

Bucky’s face went white as he saw you. He wanted nothing more than to run to you, to take you in his arms. It was all he had wanted for months but he couldn’t do it. He had to protect you from himself. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he said, his tone still soft.

“Too fucking bad, Bucky. I did hear it,” you retorted. 

“I’m gonna give you guys some privacy…” Steve said, walking out of the room and leaving you alone with the man who had ripped your heart to shreds over the past few months.

“Y/N, I had to protect you,” Bucky said. 

You scoffed. You didn’t know how to feel in this moment. You were devastated by the way you had been treated. You were angry at him for putting you through this. But you also just wanted him back. Your Bucky. The way he was speaking to you, looking at you, it reminded you of before everything had been blown to bits. “I don’t need your protection. But I did need you! Bucky, do you know how horrible you made me feel? I felt like you never loved me! That I would never be good enough! I felt like a placeholder until you found someone better! You did that. You did this to me.”

Tears fell from his eyes as he listened. “When they used those trigger words…I wanted to kill you. The Winter Soldier wanted to kill you. Do you understand that? I wasn’t in control. I didn’t know that it was you, the love of my life, standing in front of me. All I knew was that you were a mission. And I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you.” 

“So you decided to treat me like fucking garbage? Bucky, do you know how many nights I spent alone in our bed, crying myself to sleep because my boyfriend made me feel worthless?”

“I know, I know,” he wiped his tears. “I heard you every time. And God, Y/N, it broke my heart. I was crying with you. I wanted nothing more than to get into bed and wrap my arms around you.”

“So why didn’t you?” You said, hot tears streaming down your cheeks now.

“I thought that you’d eventually realize I wasn’t good enough for you. I was waiting for you to end it. To give up on me like so many other people have. But you never did and I-I couldn’t keep living every second terrified that I would hurt you.”

You shook your head. “I would never give up on you. I was never going to give up on you.” 

“Please forgive me. I miss you so much, I don’t know what to do. I fucked it all up.” 

You were at a crossroads. You wanted so badly to forgive him. To say that you understood. And part of you did, but you also couldn’t forget the way he had made you feel for so long. So isolated and lonely. 

“I need some time, Bucky,” you said before walking out of the room, leaving the love of your life crying on the sofa.

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan imagine #bucky fanfic #sad bucky #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #avengers #captain america #mcu #the avengers #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader

[sjsmith56]

Customer Service

Summary: Bucky’s former girlfriend helps him buy a new suit, but he’s there for other reasons. First part of a two part series.

Length: 3.6 K

Characters: Unnamed OFC, named minor OFC, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson.

Warnings: Bucky showing up unannounced at her workplace, OFC remembering the not so good times, anxiety.

Author notes: Once upon a time I worked retail. An ex-spouse or lover showing up unannounced was always problematic. I’m not terribly knowledgeable about what men’s suits go with an athletic build, although my research did lean to a preference for the Hugo Boss and Calvin Klein labels.

🥾 👔 💔

“There’s a customer here that wants to speak to a manager,” said Lynette, the clerk at the customer service desk, sticking her head in the door of the office. She had a big smirk on her face. “I’m just warning you to be careful.”

I pulled my glasses off to glare at her as I really didn’t have time to deal with a grumpy customer. She shrugged.

“That’s why you get paid the big bucks.”

I followed her out and turned the corner where the most beautiful man I had ever seen leaned on the counter, someone I knew well and hadn’t expected to ever see again. Tall, broad-shouldered, with soft dark brown hair, rugged good looks, and a pair of blue eyes that pierced me as sharp as a knife. He had a smirk on his face as if he knew exactly the effect he had on me.

“Good afternoon, sir,” I said, trying to modulate my voice so that I didn’t give away that I knew him. “How can I be of assistance?”

He looked at me in surprise. I was going to be like that was I? Well, two could play that game.

“I would like to return these work boots,” he said, in a manner that indicated he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “They fell apart the first time I used them at work.”

There was a black garbage bag on the counter that I assumed held the boots in question. Before I looked in it, I looked at him, trying to gauge if he was going to be one of those customers to me, in front of a witness. You know the type, someone who buys something to replace the worn-out ones he already has, then tries to pass the worn-out ones off as the newer model in order to get his money back. It’s a scam, and I could always pick out the type of person who would do that, which he wasn’t but it would be just like him to push the boundaries, trying to make me react to his being there. Internally I really hoped he wouldn’t go this far to punish me for ending it with him but his manner, although brusque, had none of the tells of someone who was trying to make life hard for me.

“Do you have your original receipt, sir?” I asked politely.

He nodded, pulled his wallet out of his jeans and opened it, revealing a carefully folded receipt that he handed to me, from his gloved hand. Lynette noticed the glove but stifled her reaction to it, except I could tell he noticed, as his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was a little bothered. Briefly, his eyes flickered to mine. Had I not told anyone about us?

Swallowing, I opened the bag and looked inside at a pair of boots that had definitely seen better days. Although the top portion of them and the tread looked fairly new it was obvious that whatever mission he used them for was too much for the boots to handle. In several places the top part of the boot had pulled away from the sole. The stitching had also split in several of the stress points. I could only imagine what he went through that had caused this much damage to the boots. It was one of the reasons we broke up; nights of imagining the mission, wondering if he was alright but not hearing from him, not until he walked through the door all bruised and battered, sometimes still bleeding because he didn’t want to bother the medical staff. Meaning that I had to patch him up and deal with the stoic suffering he inflicted on himself by not believing he was worth being looked after.

“May I ask what line of work you’re in?” I asked politely. “These were new but seem to have been subjected to a lot of ….” I didn’t want to say the abuse word. “Um … stress.”

“I have a stressful job,” he answered, still playing the part of the customer who was a stranger to me. As if he hadn’t ever touched me in ways that no other man had; had never told me he loved me, who hadn’t argued with me sometimes just for the sake of arguing and liked seeing me all fired up because it meant the makeup sex after would be incredible. “It sometimes involves a lot of … running, jumping, kicking, and often moving through uneven terrain of all types.”

“Okay,” I replied, taking in a breath and deciding I couldn’t do this anymore. “I’ll authorize the refund, since your receipt shows you’ve only had them a week but obviously this brand won’t stand up to the pressures of your job. I would suggest you try a specialty footwear store that can provide something sturdier for you.”

His face changed when he realized I wasn’t going to prolong this moment anymore. Mentioning he should buy elsewhere could also be taken that I didn’t want to see him come back here, to where I worked. I entered the refund in the cash register, asking him to insert his bank card to finish the procedure, then had him sign our copy of the new receipt. I looked at the signature, J.B. Barnes, then at him.

“Is there a problem?” He looked at me with his eyebrows raised; as if he was willing me to say something, anything that he could respond to.

“No, no problem.” I made the mistake of getting caught by those eyes, becoming a little lost in them. It wouldn’t have been the first time those eyes made me change my mind, but not this time. “You have nice handwriting.”

“Thank you,” he smiled sadly, making my heart flutter a little. “I appreciate the good customer service.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, then smiled my customer service smile as he turned around and walked away.

That should have been the end of it, except he turned around and looked at me one more time when he met up with Sam Wilson. He almost waved at me, but Bucky shook his head at him, and instead he just put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, in support. I heard Lynette gasp.

“That was Captain America,” she exclaimed. She grabbed the receipt that he signed. “That meant he was Bucky Barnes. He looked at you.”

“Of course, he looked at me. I was processing his refund.”

She wouldn’t stop talking about it, so I went out on the floor, wanting to get away from her incessant blathering about how I should go out with Bucky as it was obvious to her that he was sweet on me. Although I normally worked as a manager in the clothing department, I sometimes acted as customer service manager when that person had a day off. I still had a duty to walk around the store, making sure everything was working the way it should. That’s when I saw him again, Bucky, that is. He and Sam were in men’s wear, looking at shirts. By the sounds of it they were having a disagreement.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

They both turned to look at me then shared a look that can only be described as polar opposites. Sam grinned at Bucky, who scowled at him.

“He needs a dress shirt,” said Sam, playing along for the benefit of the male clerk on duty in men’s wear. “There’s a little problem in that he thinks a button cuff will be too tight. But he hasn’t worn a French cuff since the 1940s and thinks they’re old fashioned.”

“On the contrary,” I replied. “A French cuff is very fashionable. Personally, I think it offers a classy look to a man. Are you wearing a suit or a blazer?”

“Suit,” said Bucky, who seemed taller now that he wasn’t blocked by the customer service counter, taller than the last time he held me; broader than the last time I placed my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, sexier than the last time we made love.

“What colour of suit and what colour of shirt do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t even have a suit yet.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“A formal event that he doesn’t want to go to because he doesn’t have a date,” smirked Sam. Trust him to be blunt.

“Sam,” glared Bucky. He turned to me, looking a little flustered. “Sorry, I really don’t know what I want. He’s right. I haven’t bought a suit since the 1940s and the one suit I had then was what I could afford.”

He looked a little lost, not that I could blame him. Outside of his missions, his wardrobe consisted of black jeans, blue jeans, long and short sleeve T-shirts, and Henley shirts, and those plain black combat boots that he wore constantly. He never wanted to go out anywhere that required a suit; always saying that he just wanted to stay in, as I was all the entertainment he needed. It was nice until it became stifling. The male clerk was helping another customer, and I suddenly didn’t want Bucky to leave. When we were together, I offered to help him buy a suit, but he always turned me down, saying he didn’t want to be my customer. But if this was the only way I could show him that he would be more than that then I was going to take my shot.

“Would you like me to dress you?” I blurted out.

“Excuse me?” His eyes opened wide. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry,” I smiled. “What I mean is, would you like me to help you find the right suit and shirt for this event?”

“I don’t want to take you away from your manager duties,” he answered, still looking unsure.

“Our store prides itself on its customer service,” I stated. “It would be my pleasure to help you find the right clothing for this event, Mr. Barnes.”

“She knows what she’s doing, Bucky,” said Sam, in a low voice. “I think you should listen to the lady.”

“Alright.” Bucky’s acceptance of my offer was said softly but loud enough for both me and Sam to hear.

I called up to the office to advise them I was helping a customer in men’s wear, taking measurements for a new suit so I wouldn’t be available for the next half hour. Then I pulled a card out of a drawer and wrote James Buchanan Barnes in the Customer Name portion.

“I’ll mark all of your measurements here,” I said. “That way, you won’t have to be measured again if you ever decide to buy another suit with us. It will also mark your preferences in suit style, shirt style, colours, and shoe size.”

“Shoe size?” he asked.

“You will need a pair of dress shoes,” I replied, looking down at his combat boots, all worn and scuffed. “Those won’t exactly complete the look you’re going for.”

“No, I guess not,” he agreed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Well, we can start with taking your height and weight measurement,” I began. “We have a scale here, unless you’re pretty sure of what you weigh.”

His eyes went soft. “6 feet even, 220 lbs., it doesn’t change.”

I wrote it down. “We need to take your body measurements; in one of the dressing rooms if you want privacy as you’ll have to take your jacket off and your Henley. We can choose a shirt first then wear that while I take the suit measurements, so the jacket fits properly.”

“Let’s do that,” he agreed, and waited for me to lead him to one of the larger dressing rooms.

He took his jacket off, then his Henley. Sam took them while he sat in a chair. I got the measuring tape and stood in front of Bucky, before wrapping it around his neck, taking the neck measurement.

“How are you?” he asked, in a low voice meant just for me.

“Managing,” I answered, getting a slight grin from him at my pun. “You?”

“Existing,” he replied, making me look up at him, and noticing how tired he seemed.

I took his arm measurement and wrote both measurements down on the card. “So, what type of shirt would you like? Classic fit, with room for your shoulders? Close fitting to display your physique? Button cuffs, French cuffs?”

“Why don’t you pick out some suitable choices, so I can see them on me?” he suggested.

Nodding, I left him and Sam there and went out to our selection, looking for some candidates. I picked white ones, thinking that if he wanted a coloured shirt, he could grab one with the same size and features. Taking them into the dressing room I was surprised to see he had his T-shirt off.

His physique never failed to impress me. His vibranium arm and shoulder had been made to match his right arm and shoulder, and the Wakandans had done a superb job of duplicating the musculature of that limb. As I removed the updated classic look shirt from its package, then removed the pins holding it together, he watched me, standing close enough so that I was aware of his scent. That mixture of citrus and sandalwood, from a cologne I gave to him on his birthday, brought back memories of burying my face into his neck during our more intimate moments, breathing in his unique essence. Fumbling with one of the pins, I stopped and took a breath, recenterring myself before handing the shirt to him. Without a word, he took it and put it on then buttoned it up. I handed him some cufflinks to go with the French cuffs. Taking the glove off of his left hand he attached that cufflink first, then the next one before standing in front of the mirror and taking in the fit.

“That’s almost perfect,” I said. “The length is enough to tuck in, without the threat of it coming out. The shoulders are snug enough to show your form but roomy enough for your muscles to move. The French cuffs give you a tailored look with enough room not to bind your wrists.”

Sam coughed and we both looked at him, at his timing. “I didn’t say anything.”

With the shirt on I began measuring Bucky for the suit jacket, starting with the chest, over arm, neck, and sleeve length. Then I continued with the shoulders, waistcoat length, jacket length, bicep, wrist and stomach. The next set of measurements were for the pants, waist, hips, thigh, knee, then the rise, running the tape from the front of waist down over the crotch and up to his back. We both glared at Sam who pointedly looked elsewhere for that measurement as well as the inseam measurement, before finishing off with the out seam.

“We can go look at the suit styles,” I said. “I think with your broad shoulders and slim waist that you should stick with Hugo Boss or a Calvin Klein suit. They’ll need minimal tailoring to be fitted properly. You can leave the dress shirt on, while you try the jacket on the sales floor.”

Both men came out and I showed them the suits, not surprised when Bucky gravitated towards the black ones. Colour was hard for him, as he always thought it made him too visible. The arm already did that, in his opinion. He tried on several jackets in his size before he found one that he liked, nodding his head as he looked at himself in the mirror on the floor. I found his waist size in the matching slacks and draped them over my arm.

“Ties?” I asked, walking towards our display. “You have your choice of plain, patterned, paisley, stripes.”

“Plain, black,” stated Bucky. “Could I try a black shirt as well?”

As much as I wanted him to experiment a little, I also knew he would look stunning in a monochrome suit ensemble of black. I found a black shirt to match the white one he wore then took them back to the dressing room. While he put them on, Sam came with me to the shoe department to find a pair of shoes. As soon as we were some distance away, he stopped and hugged me.

“How are you?” His eyes were full of concern. “This must be hard for you.”

I shrugged. “I miss him, even with all of his quirks. He can’t just show up here unannounced. Why is he really here? He wouldn’t even step foot into the store before even though I offered to help him find clothes many times.”

“I know.” He looked back towards the men’s wear department. “This formal event is mandatory for him. We’re going to the White House to receive a commendation and attend a banquet. It’s made his anxiety level go up through the roof. You always had a way to keep him level. It was my idea to come here and hopefully get your help. The work boots still had to be returned. He just bought them on impulse when he came here by himself the first time to ask for your help but couldn’t find you.”

I began walking to the shoe department; suddenly angered that Bucky was only here so I could make him feel better. Sam hurried after me.

“Seriously? You thought I could give him an emergency psychological bandage to get him through an anxiety episode? You’re better than that, Sam.”

“He needs you. He’s pretty lost without you.”

I could feel the need to cry bubbling up from my stomach and stopped at a display of men’s shoes, plain black Oxfords. Picking up a pair I held them up to Sam.

“What do you think? He’s going to look great in the suit and these will be just the thing to finish it off.”

“Yeah, he’ll like them,” replied Sam. “Size 12.”

I went in back to find the shoe, taking the moment to compose myself before coming out with the box. We began walking back to men’s wear when Sam stopped me again. With a sigh I looked at him, feeling almost at the end of my tether.

“Tell me the truth, are you happier without him?”

What an unfair question to ask. I wasn’t happy. I was miserable but I just didn’t know if I had it in me to put up with everything else. The moodiness, the lack of communication, the emotional withdrawal that happened around every anniversary of his fall, the possessiveness … the good things we had never seemed to outweigh the negative. Without even answering Sam knew what I would say, and he touched my arm, then nodded his head sadly. As we stepped into the dressing room Bucky stood there in the suit, wearing the black shirt, with the black tie, and the black pocket square poking out of the chest pocket. I took the shoes out of the box, doing up the laces, then kneeled in front of Bucky, helping him on with the shoes, before pinning the length of the trousers to fit the shoes and stepping back to look at the almost finished product.

“There you go,” I said. “You look great.”

“I feel good,” he replied. “Thank you.” His eyes flickered to Sam.

“You do look good,” said his friend. “The all-black look suits you.”

“I’ll take it,” said Bucky. “All of it, and the white shirt as well, with a tie of your choice. Just so I have two looks.”

“I’ll pick something out while you get changed,” I said. “Then I’ll meet you at the desk. The slacks can be left here for our tailor to shorten. They’ll be ready in two days.”

I found a tie, a paisley design, black with silver and gold accents, that matched the colours of his vibranium arm. There was even a pocket square to match, and I tossed that on the pile. I entered the information of the suit on the card. It would be entered into our database so that anyone could help him find what he needed in the future.

Sam came out with the suit, shirts and shoes, placing them on the desk. Bucky came out a few moments later, seeming a little more withdrawn. After entering the work order for the slacks, I handed him a claim ticket. It seemed odd that in this digital age we still used paper claim tickets, but it was what our customers liked, as part of the service. I tallied up the total, presenting the amount to Bucky, and he didn’t bat an eye as he pulled a black credit card out of his wallet. It seemed the superhero business had finally started paying off. As he entered the code on the terminal, I placed the suit jacket and shirts into a suit bag, the shoes and ties in a paper shopping bag. Then the receipt was handed over, and I looked at him, wanting to say something other than my usual customer service ramble.

“You should launder the shirts before you wear them, just so they’re softer on your skin,” I suggested. “In the shoe department are some protective sprays that will help keep them looking good in wet weather. You can also polish them with regular shoe polish.” Those blue eyes met mine, boring into me, maybe for the last time. “I hope your event goes well. You’ll look great and you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for your help,” he smiled softly, seemingly accepting that it was over.

He gathered up his bags and stood awkwardly for a moment before turning away. This time he didn’t look back.

Part 2>>

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #bucky barnes oneshot #sad bucky #bucky trying to make up #bucky barnes short fiction #buckybarnesshortfic

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

Not Your Happy Ending

Summary: You thought you were his happy ending, turns out he had other plans.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, mentioned Past Bucky x Natshsa.

Word Count: 1,131

Warnings: ANGST!

A/N: So this idea got stuck in my head and this fic is a product of that idea. I'm sorry in advance! also for people who have requests, I'm working on them !!!!! Also, this is not MCU TIMELINE accurate so please no hate!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You had thought that everything was going well, the world was finally getting back to normal after the defeat of Thanos, Steve gave Sam the shield and is now Captain America, and well Steve that old man somehow figured out a way to bring Peggy back to your timeline and have his happy ending. 

With all this good happening after such tragedies, you still couldn't help but feel as if something was still wrong. As if at any moment something was going to happen. Maybe a little part of it had to do with the way Bucky has been acting since he met with Steve last week. You shook off that feeling and tried to occupy your mind. Yet something told you that things were wrong with bucky. 

Today you decided to surprise him and have a talk with him about his distinct. You'd gotten off of work early and stooped by one of Bucky's favorite bakeries in Brooklyn, you thought he'd enjoy one of his favorites and hopefully ease him into a conversation. 

However, you would soon regret having made that decision. As soon as you arrived at the compound, you had asked Friday to send you in the direction of where Bucky was. She had told you he was in the kitchen with Sam and asked if you would like her to announce your arrival. You asked her not to and then made your way to the kitchen.

Upon walking down the corridor, you stop yourself before turning as you can hear Bucky having what seemed like an intense conversation with Sam. You knew it was bad to east drop but that worried feeling in your stomach began, so you quietly listen to his conversation. 

" Just hear me out okay, all I'm saying is that if Steve brought back Peggy to our timeline then maybe.." You felt your heart tighten at what bucky was trying to say. Did he want to go back to the 40s? you were pulled out of your thought when you heard Sam speak. " Maybe what buck?" Sam questions him. 

"Then maybe I can bring back Nat from this timeline or a different one and have the life we always wanted, I miss her Sam and I can't stop thinking about the 'what ifs'. Steve even said there might be a chance I could bring her back!" At this exact moment, you felt your heart being ripped out of your chest and stepped on. You knew the passing of Natasha wasn't easy on bucky, she was more than a collage or a friend. They were Ex-lovers for crying out loud, they had a connection like no one else. It was one of your top insecurities going into this relationship, you knew you could never be Natasha or live up to what she and bucky had. 

You were in deep contemplation that you nearly forgot you were holding the box of baked goodies in your hands until it almost slid from them. Just as Sam was ready to start speaking again, you swiftly tightened your hold. 

"Are you insane or simply fully insane?" Sam shouted. Sam shook his head and said, "You can't mess with death, Bucky. Bringing Peggy back to our timeline is one thing, but to bring Nat from our timeline or another one is a whole different thing." He stopped, "Hell, I'm sure strange wouldn't even help because it's bizarre." Before Bucky could respond, Friday informed him that Torres needed them at the hanger immediately. When the close was evident and it was plain what you had to do, even if it hurt, you had to leave bucky. 

The last moment that you spoke with Bucky was through a text message from Sam informing you of a last-minute operation they were going on and when they planned to return. It had been a full two weeks since you had heard what Bucky had said to Sam. After what Bucky had admitted, not even he could text you. 

You have recently packed up the life and memories you had with Bucky. You sobbed as you took one last look around the partially empty apartment, soaking it all in before bidding it a fond farewell, lamenting the loss of something that may have been more.    

Bucky knew he had to visit you as soon as he stepped off the Quin-Jet. Sam helped him understand during the past two weeks that the idea of bringing Nat back was impractical. Sam also taught him to value and understand that his relationship with you is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. When times were tough, you were the rock that supported him. Everything you do, whether you dance, grin, or cry, stays in his memory. The more he considered leaving, the more he could not bear to go through that because he adored you. You were always there. 

 Before he could even leave the compound Sam stopped him. He gave him an envelope, "What's this ?" he questioned as he opened it. "Friday said it was from y/n" That was all bucky needed to hear before opening it. 

Dear James,

I look back at the early days of our relationship, the days that were filled with love and innocence with affection heightened and improved over time. Falling in love with you felt like those fairytale moments in a child’s movie. It’s weird to say, but it feels like I cannot exist without you like my life revolves around the love I have for you. I feel as though you have absorbed me. 

I often ask myself. How did I love before I knew you before I possessed your affection? Maybe it’s when you love someone like how I love you that you know how to Indore everything that can perish. I hate to be selfish, but I have to admit it. I will always love you, my sweet James Buchanan Barnes. 

However, I cannot stay in this agony of wanting you to love me how I love you. So I must set you free so you can truly be happy, go explore the world, and live the life you so willingly deserve because in the end that’s all that I care about is your happiness. 

I am sorry I am not your happy ending. 

In that moment Tears began to pull around his eyes as he read the last sentence those words finally sinking into him and hitting him in the face. You must’ve heard his conversation with Sam. He rushed out of the compound and straight to your apartment. He skipped up the stairs desperately to see you, and ultimately when he opened your apartment you were nowhere to be found. He knew he lost you for good, all because you thought you were not his happy ending. 

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@caothicshit @missvelvetsstuff @huntressandlioness1 @just-another-blog-34411 @hannibals-favourite-meal @nana1000night @sarahrogersevans @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @Tomandcakes @hallecarey1 @imyourbratzdoll

#bucky barnes #bucky #sad bucky #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x natasha #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bu #mcu bucky barnes

[binkszamsstuff]

Couldn’t help but stare at her photograph

Summary: James let his faults and insecurities take over his life. Saying things he doesn’t mean because he doesn’t deserve them. This costed him the love of his life and his children.

Warnings: like none really? Crying, angst, kissing, Bucky and reader have children, No happy ending!!!

🎞️

For a while I sat there staring at her photograph, For a while I cried and tried not to make a scene.

James watched the old tape of their wedding. The way she looked ingrained into his mind evermore. How he sore to any and everything that he would spend the rest of his life loving her. That’s the only promise he kept out of all of them.

There in the small coffee shop he watched crying as his y/n and their children sit at a table smiling and talking. He tried not to make a scene.

There was a time when we were young I used to make her laugh. But life is long, my love has gone away from me, gone away from me, gone away from me

“Ew James stop! No..no don’t you dare put that on meeee!” James chased her around the island in their home with raw cookie dough, trying to smear it on her. He was shirtless just in some sweatpants, she was in his shirt.

“Come on baby come give me a kiss” he said playfully.

“If I walk over there and give you a kiss promise you won’t get that on me?” She asked hesitantly

“Yes, yes I promise!” He laughed. She slowly made her way to him like a bunny trying to approach a wolf. He had his arms out waiting for her smiling like a fool. Drunk on love. Once she was in his arms, he held her tight and kissed her. It was warm and comfortable. No lust just pure admiration and love.

Once they broke out of the kiss he rubbed the spatula on her nose.

He broke the promise

“James!” They laughed together

 life is long, my love has gone away from me gone away from me, gone away from me. Life is long, my love has gone away from me.

“Why!? James have I done something wrong? Just let me in” she begged

“I can’t do this anymore, the routine and boring life. I have a second chance to live my life! To be free from hydra! And…”

“And you don’t want to spend it with me? Or our children?” Hopelessly. Was how she said it. And when she put it that way James felt guilty.

“I-i yes! Alright!” He took his regret out on her, in anger.

“I can’t fucking stand to be in this house! The mess! The noise! The nothingness! There’s nothing here!” He yelled

“Our kids are here! I’m here! Our family and love and home is here! We built this! I thought you loved us” she cried, sobbed, feeling like her whole life had been ripped apart.

Because…it had.

Lately I can’t seem find myself no sleep at all. Lately I just lie awake and hear and dream of a time when she was mine,felt like I had it all. But life is long, my love has gone away from me.

In different beds, in different houses that are not quite home. The broken couple that is no longer one lies awake. Thinking, missing, and dying for the other. The presence of one another still lingers on the other side of the bed. James sits in a half empty house. His kids rooms all cleared out, nothing but some left toys they didn’t want anymore. The other side of the closet, bathroom,and bedroom are still ‘moms side’ James in his heart is still married.

Y/n even though in a new house still has an empty space in the bathroom, closet, and bedroom, and her heart. Her stuff on right his on the left, but now she just has a half empty everything. She still makes room for him even though he is not there.

Gone away from me, gone away from me, gone away from me. Life is long, my love has gone away from me.

He didn’t want the endless hookups or a new woman every night like he once told her. He wanted what he used to have, what has left him. He pushed her away because of his insecurities. His arm, his age, his past, his ability to be a good father which he used to be. The kids were still young. Cecily and grant only 6 and 8, could he make it up them? Make it up to her?

Gone away from me. Life is long, my love has gone away from me. Yesterday is gone. Yesterday is dead. Get it through your head and walk away. Yesterday is gone ain’t no use of hanging on to her memory that only causes you pain.

“I’m sorry and I love you”

“Please don’t give me false hope. I love you James you’re the love of my life! But you made this decision and I- I don’t know if I could survive another thing like this happening. I’ll miss for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll miss you until the end of time.” He kissed her goodbye one last time before the kids could notice them, the two kids sitting in the car waiting for them to stop talking so they could go get ice cream with their dad.

At least he tried to get his life back after he broke it.

For awhile I sat there staring at her photograph. For awhile I cried and tried not to make a scene. There was a time when we were young I used to make her laugh. But life is long, my love has gone away from me.

🎞️

He sat and watched her marry a new man. One who could hold and keep his promises. And not let insecurities get in the way of his love and family. For this was James’ life now. Staring at her photograph.

The end

🥲

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshots #marvel #spotify #bucky angst #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader #james barnes x reader #winter solider fanfiction #sad bucky #sergeant bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel angst

[hainethehero]

Stucky headcanon- Steve & Bucky have a serious fight... major angst...

Steve accidentally stumbles upon footage of Bucky's torture under HYDRA on his laptop and watches the whole thing. Bucky comes home to a traumatized and shaken Steve who reveals what happened. He didn't mean to watch it but... it just happened. He couldn't stop even if he tried. Bucky gets angry and yells at Steve for invading his privacy like that, screaming that it was none of his business. Steve tries to apologize but Bucky storms out and leaves him in their apartment for weeks. No contact, no signals.

Steve falls apart while Bucky has to come to terms with the fact that he's ashamed of his past as the Winter soldier and not inherently upset at Steve. He just didn't want to be seen as that person anymore, especially not by Steve.

#stucky #stucky headcanon #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sad steve rogers #stucky angst #bucky barnes trauma #captain america #the winter soldier #sad bucky #steeb #why do i do this to myself #ugh

[miharuwrites]

Buckytober Day 4: Despair

I tried to smile because that's what you wanted. You wanted me to be happy for you...

How the hell am I supposed to be happy that you're leaving me behind for some dame you barely knew? She shoots at you and you're in love? What about us? What about the fact that we're finally together again, my head is on straight, the fighting is over, and we could have lived our lives out finally?

I thought... I thought you loved me Steve.

#buckytober #bucky barnes #sad bucky #nightcafe #marvel fanart #i made this #marvel

[burninblood]

today warmup is sad boy wearing a sweater <3

“That seemed to be the way of Barnes - the shadow trailing in the wake of the Soldier, acknowledging the darkness, apologizing for it, while never really breaking free on his own. He was the guilty one, the one who felt the shame of what the Soldier did, unthinking.”

#bucky barnes #sad bucky #marvel comics #bucky barnes fanart #fanart #mine #burninbloodart #winter soldier #quote is from black widow: bad blood #bucky needs a hug

[numberonestuckyshipper]

#bucky barnes #fanart #steve rogers #stucky #stevebucky #drawing #sad bucky #dw steve’s there

[thewintersoldier111]

(Sad warning) This story is about Fem!reader self harming, and Bucky finding out. (Trigger warning! Blood, wounds, and cussing!) There might be some misspelling, but not everything is perfect. You all are amazing! Love you all! 💕

Your brother Bucky is the best brother ever. No doubt about it. He's kind, sweet, caring, and even though he's not that way towards others that much, when it comes to you, his sister, he's a complete softy around you.

But last night you both had a major argument. The biggest argument in a while, and you actually were really scared of him. The way he yelled, raised his voice and stepped in front of you, towering over you. It was fucking terrifying.

You knew Buck would never hurt you. Hell, even lay a single finger on you. But you couldn't help but feel afraid, knowing all too well that Bucky could lift you up with his bare hand and throw you across the room.

You both were just having a normal argument that night, just back talking to each other and saying rude things. But it quickly got worse when you said, "Yeah, and no one likes you because your a fucking killer and you dont want to admit that fact." Bucky instantly went quiet, and that's when he started yelling at you, telling you that you were a horrible person and sister, that he wished you dead.

Why the hell would he say such a thing? Maybe because you have said that to him a few times before? Who knows. But the way he said it to you like he was dead serious made something trigger something deep in you.

You went to bed that night, the air filled with tension, even though you guys were both in your own rooms across from each other in the Stark Tower.

You closed the door and locked it, making sure to lock it quietly for Buck not to hear. You knew Bucky wasn't going to come to your door after the heated argument, but you locked the door just in case anyway. You took in a shaky breath, his words echoing in your head.

*"Yeah mother fucker! I wish you fucking dead!"* Just those words made your heart pound and tears run down your face.

You looked up, looking to your right at the dresser that held the blade in the bottom drawer under some socks. You stared at the drawer, contemplating whether to grab the blade or just forget it and go to bed and sleep your worries away.

You weren't going to do that though. Tonight was just too much, and you knew that you had to do something about these worries and wash them away. You slowly walked to your drawer and crouched down.

You reached your hand out, gripping the drawer handle and opening it. As you did, pairs of socks, underwear, and a few bras. You reached in and grabbed the pair of socks and there it was. Your blade.

You stared at it, your eyes never leaving it. You swallowed thickly and grab it gently, the corner almost cutting your finger just by the smallest touch. The blade glimmered in the moonlight that shined through the window in your room.

You stood up and held it in your hand. You walked over to your bed and sat down on the edge. You sighed, trying to think if you should do this again. You do this almost daily, cutting yourself when you have the time to.

You closed you eyes, taking a deep breath in to calm your racing heart. You exhaled out slowly and then opened your eyes. You looked down and then started to roll up your pant leg of your baggy pants that were black.

As you did so, tones of scars and fresh cuts that you did yesterday were littered all over your thigh. It was something you felt calm over. Hurting yourself made all the pain and worries fade. You found it satisfying to look at the cuts and scars. You looked at the blade in your hand once more, getting a good look at it, almost like you were making sure it was really there in your hand, or that it wouldn't fade away.

You then slowly but surely put the blade to your thigh, pressing the sharp tip to your skin, feeling the cool metal almost threaten to poke through the skin. You then took a deep breath in, pressed down and swiped your skin quickly.

Your breath hitched, and you didn't even dare look at the cut for a moment, knowing that the cut was really deep, just by how it started to slightly burn and sting. Your hands trembled, but felt your mind slowly becoming numb. You then after a few seconds looked, and your eyes wided as you looked at the deep cut on your thigh.

It was deeper than the rest you have done in a while. You watched the blood quickly start dripping down the side of your thigh and into the wooden floor. *"Thank God we have wood floors and not carpet"* You thought in your head.

You hesitate, wondering if you should cut yourself again or call it a night. You thought deeply, but did it anyway. You pressed the blade to your thigh, and once again, dragged the blade against your skin quickly. Your heart raced and you looked at the two deep wounds you created, and you knew it was going to be a pain in the ass to patch up due to how much it was bleeding.

You shakily sat the blade down on the bedside table and then just watched the blood drip onto the floor, making little, *"tap,.. tap,.. tap"* sounds against the floor. You knew you shouldn't bleed out too much, but the words Bucky said to you still dance in your head, spurring you on to bleed out more than you really should.

After about three minutes, the blood started to stop dripping, only dripping slowly. A pool of blood was on the floor below your thigh. You felt off now, your head more light than it should be. It felt as though you were in the clouds. Like you were on a drug.

"Y/n... Can we talk?" Bucky says through the bedroom door, and your heart completely sinks right to the pit of your stomach. You could have sworn you almost threw up, that's how scared and nervous you just got. You didn't know what to do.

You were almost panicking. Your heartbeat increased and your head spun slightly. You quickly pulled down your pant leg, the cuts instantly stinging. You almost hissed out loud, but held it back. You were basically panicking, and you took a deep breath in... and out. You didn't know how to think or what to do.

You ran a hand through your hair. "Y/n?... I can hear you. Open up,... Please" Bucky says, softer this time. He could sense something was wrong, and he didn't know what it was. But he could tell that just by the way he heard your heavy breathing that you tried to put under control... And a strange smell he couldn't quite put together. He knew he needed to know if you were okay.

You swallowed thickly, your saliva coating your dry mouth. You took in a deep breath and slowly walked towards the door, making sure not to make your wounds worse. You hesitated to open the door, nervous to even look at Bucky.

You knew you couldn't wait any longer, knowing well enough that Bucky hated when he didn't get an answer from anyone. You then put your hand to the doorknob, unlocking it slowly, trying your best to be quiet while you do it. You then sighed heavily and opened the door. Bucky stood there, in his usual sweat pants and no shirt since it was bedtime.

His instant words caught you off guard. "Why was the door locked" He said in a worried yet stern tone that sent a chill down your spine. Fuck, what were you going to do? You stood there pale in the face, breath ragged. What were you going to say or do? You were so bad at making up stuff that you knew he would notice you lying.

"I-... I just-... I didn't want to be disturbed tonight is all" you say with a shaky breath, you heart racing faster than it was just a minute ago before you opened the door.

Bucky stood staring at you, but to your luck, he took a step back, looking you up and down from head to toe, and his heart sank. He stared at your hands, your hands bloody and shaky. His breath hitched as he saw the big blood spot on your thigh, your blood soaking through, and he quickly grabbed your arm, his grip firm yet gentle.

"What did you do?..." He says quickly, his heart pounding faster and faster. You stared up at him, not knowing what to do or even say in that moment. "It's nothing-" You say, but get cut off. "Don't you dare lie to me. What the fuck did you-" Bucky looks up, into your room and he feels sick almost instantly.

His eyes went wide as he stared at the pool of blood on the floor, and then at the blade on your bed, and he knew this was his fault. It was all his fault. He did this to you and he didn't know what to do. You stared at him, your eyes watering with tears. "Buck-" You get cut off again. "No... No, no, no" He says and shakes his head. He lets out a breath, a tear rolling down his face. He grips your arm a little more and quickly leads you to the bathroom.

You stayed silent as he did so. He picks you up as you reach the bathroom and sets you on the sink. He doesn't say anything as he quickly crouches and gets a first aid kit underneath the sink. He pulls it out and sits at your side on the sink. He opens it up and looks at you. "Y/n..." He says, his eyes full of worry, fear, sadness, and tears.

"Pull down your pants" He says gently, another tear going down his face as he speaks, his voice wavering.

"Bucky... I-... Please, I don't want you to see..." You say, scared and full of worry.

"Listen to me," Bucky starts sternly and full of worry. "Take your pants off. I don't give a fuck about anything else. Just-..." He lets out a small sob. "Pl-please... Just-" He couldn't even finish his sentence as he felt himself about to break down, his heart almost shattering.

You let out a small sob as well, sniffling as you both cry. You don't hesitate and simply take your pants off, putting them down to your knees. Bucky looks at the cuts and his eyes go wide at the deep wounds on your left thigh, and the scars littering your thighs. His stomach starts to feel upset, almost on the verge of puking.

The cuts are still bleeding, but not as bad as they once were. Bucky grabs the toilet paper and grabs some of it. He puts it to your wounds, making you hiss at the contact. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" Bucky says under his breath and wipes off the dry blood a bit. He then puts the bloody toilet paper in the toilet, flushing it and then grabs gauze pads and puts it on the cuts.

He grabs a big bandage and starts to bandage your leg up, careful not to hurt your wounds. You watch him, his shaky hands working on you, and you almost feel like you were drowning in guilt from how this affected Bucky.

You didn't know Bucky was going to come to your bedroom door just minutes ago. And if you did, you would have never done this at all.

Bucky then looks at his work, seeing you all patched up making him feel just the slightest bit better. But of course, he wasn't feeling better though. He was far from that. He knew this was his fault, and he will never forgive himself for it either. He stares at the bandage over your wounds for longer then he should.

He soon looks into your eyes, not caring to put the stuff back into the first aid. He looks deep into your eyes, his eyes full of tears, sadness, and pure guilt. You stare back into his eyes, and you let out a small sob. He sniffles and cups your face, making you look at him, his forehead leaning against your's.

"I'm so- so fucking sorry... " Bucky says through tears. "I never meant it... I- I never meant it... I-..i don't want you-..." He sobs and leans his head against your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you. "I don't want you gone... You-... You mean so much to me... Please don't go... Please don't" Bucky says as he sobs against your shoulder.

You sob and clutch onto him tightly, your body shaking with each sob that racks your body. Hot tears run down your cheeks.

"Im-im sorry... " You say sobbing against Buck's shoulder. "I thought it was for the better- and..." You say, but Bucky pulls back, looking into your eyes.

"Don't say that," Bucky says through a sniffle. "Don't you dare think- think that you deserve this,... that it's for the better..." He says and leans forward, kissing your forehead gently, his lips lingering there while you shake with sobs. "I love you so much... I fucking love you, you hear me?" He says as he lets out a sniffle. "You're my damn sister... I love you so much. More than anyone an' anything in this world" Bucky says while kissing your forehead again.

You whimper slightly as you sob, and you nod your head and babble, "I love you too" Your words send a warmth in Buck's chest, even though this moment is downright depressing. Bucky holds you closer than he has ever before, and slightly rocks you both while you both let out small sobs here and there.

After around twenty minutes, your eyes started to grow heavy, your eyes puffy and light pink from crying so much. Buck continues to hold you anyway, practically scared to let you go and let you go back to your room.

He doesn't let you though. "Come here" He whispers softly, picking you up carefully and slowly walking to his room with you in his arms. As you both reach his room, he closes the door behind him with a gentle 'Click' with his foot and walks over to his bed. He lays you down gently and softly.

He leans down and gets in bed slowly. As he does, he covers you both up and pulls you against his chest, your breath warm against his chest. He sighs shakily, a warm tear falling from his eye while he holds you close. As he does, he closes his eyes, and promises himself that from this day forward, he's going to take care and keep you safe no matter what the cost is.

----

This is so sad 😭 But I love it so much.

#bucky barnes #mcu #x reader #sebastian stan #sad thoughts #sad bucky #story #depressing shit

[bemydoctor]

The Cold Shadow

Title: The Cold Shadow

Summary: Bucky is sinking slowly. He is overwhelmed by negative thoughts of the worst kind. Trouble is, he can’t climb back up on his own. Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to.

Characters: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson

Trigger warnings: sleep deprivation, alcohol and drug abuse, thoughts of suicide and self-harm, mention of blood, depression, PTSD, mentions of nightmares and night terrors

Other tags: Language, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sad!Bucky, Crying!Bucky, Sam Wilson is a good friend, Bucky Barnes needs a hug, Bucky Barnes gets a hug, Bucky Barnes feels

Notes: Dealing with PTSD is a roller coaster. There are ups and downs, good moments and bad ones. This fic is in no way insinuating that he will miraculously get better after an episode like this. It’s just a chapter on his journey to recovery. It puts him on a path that is hopefully forward and maybe we can hope the next drop of this roller coaster won’t sent him as far back down and he will be better prepared to deal with it and ask for help. All my knowledge on the subject comes from TV shows or other works of fiction besides Google and YouTube, and not from any sort of professional qualification or personal experience. Edited by myself. Please message me if you find anything I might have missed.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44369254/chapters/111587995

Words: 4016

>---<

Bucky listed to the side slowly, eyelids drifting close. His sluggish brain’s delayed response was to get his body upright again.

He blinked blearily, feeling like he was glued to the floor, as if gravity had increased tenfold turning his limbs to lead. His metal arm was so heavy it was just a useless hunk of metal beside him. Moving the fingers on that hand too much of an effort to even bother trying. Anyone who saw it would think it wasn’t even properly connected to his body.

Sometimes, his head would start falling, eyes rolling to the back. On occasion he would catch himself, forcing his mind to work for long enough to lift it again. It wouldn’t stay like that for long and gravity would soon resume its course. Usually, however, it was his head abruptly falling forward and almost hitting his bent knees that would get him to snap it up again. Not too much though. There wasn’t enough energy left in him to get him very far.

He tried to keep his eyelids from drooping, to at least keep them a sliver apart. The tiny slit of blue from the wall across from him slowly getting thinner and thinner. No amount of trying would get him to pry them open again.

A particularly sudden fall of his head woke him. He sluggishly raised it back, getting it to a position it wouldn’t take too much effort to keep it up.

If he had the energy, he would smile for finally getting his mind empty enough to make everything go numb. No amount of alcohol, pills or needles had managed that, his super soldier metabolism too fast to let any of that have any effect. For a moment he had even considered cutting himself. Maybe blood loss would be able to get him there. But then the exhaustion from several unslept days made him consider this.

His dreams had gotten bad enough that sleep was even more torture than wakefulness. Of course, being awake meant thinking too much, feeling too much, hurting too much. But sleeping was even worse. Without any barriers, his subconscious would take over and the nightmares were at a point in which waking up was getting more and more difficult leaving him stuck in a never-ending loop of terror. He would wake up with a sob, drenched in sweat, face covered with tears, lungs sucking in so much air it felt he would pass out straight back to sleep.

So he gave up on sleep altogether.

And right now, because of that, he felt like heaven.

His mind could barely come up with the idea of keeping his body from falling down. Any and all thought had drifted away several hours ago. He was floating in clouds. Finally at peace.

Was this what it would have felt like if the needles had worked?

A deep sense of calm overwhelmed him. He wished he could stay there forever. To just drift away and never wake up again.

Finally be free.

>---<

Sam called Bucky’s name again, his banging on the door more frantic this time.

“Bucky, I know you are in there. Open the door.”

He waited a few beats.

He banged more insistently. “You can’t hide from me, I’m tracking your phone.” More seconds passed. “Bucky, if you don’t open this door, I swear to god I’ll kick it open.”

Still nothing.

Sam sighed. His concern had turned to annoyance when Bucky wouldn’t open the door, but the silence brought the worry back, fiercer than before. This didn’t feel right.

Yes, Bucky would ignore him. He would make Sam wait and knock several times. He would ignore him away, then grumble and groan but would eventually open the door, if only to grunt at Sam and tell him to leave.

Sam shook his head, trying to keep his voice level.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said as a last attempt to ease the worry away.

He tried the doorknob, not surprised to see it locked. He looked around the nearly empty street. He lowered himself and looked under the mat, finding nothing there. He tried the empty pots on the dead garden next to the entrance and under the rocks nearby.

“Shit!” he swore under his breath.

He would imagine Bucky to be the type to have more than one lock, so even if Sam managed to pick the obvious one, there would be others on the inside.

Sam took in a deep breath and decided to try the window. It was higher than he would have liked but he eventually managed to get it open. He looked around again, hoping no one had called the cops on him.  

He jumped through. “Bucky?”

He continued across the empty living space not seeing much out of place until he stopped by the kitchen counter. It was littered with empty whisky and pill bottles scattered around. He picked up a rubber tourniquet, the kind used to give someone an injection. He saw the empty syringes inside the sink and ominous thoughts swam through his mind.

He forced his legs to move again, his heart now hammering in his chest. He turned into the corridor that led to the bedroom then rushed to his friend’s side.

“Bucky!”

Shaky hands hovered over the limp form on the floor. For a moment he retracted them, too scared to proceed. He swallowed thickly and took in the sight of his friend. No obvious signs of injury or smells that could indicate he had overdosed. He wasn’t even clammy. In fact, he was still breathing. Not only that, but his breaths were deep and steady, and Sam realized the man was asleep. Really very asleep.

“Hey, Bucky!” he whispered, trying not to touch him. When he got no response, he tried again, this time in his normal tone. “Buck, wake up!”

Bucky hadn’t even changed his breathing rhythm. Sam took in a deep breath, resisting the urge to call an ambulance. He remembered the empty bottles of medicine on the counter. They wouldn’t have worked on him. He knew super soldiers couldn’t keep drugs in their systems for long enough for them to have any effect. Not without an elephant-sized dose on a constant IV drip.

But that didn’t mean the man wouldn’t try. If he was desperate enough.

“Hey, Buck, it’s Sam.” He touched his friend’s shoulder gently. “Bucky!” He shook him slightly.

No response. He let out a shuddering breath.

Sam shook him. “Wake up, Bucky!” he said more loudly.

This time, he noticed a slight change and the dread started to fade away. Bucky was alright. Just sleeping.

“C’mon, man. Just wake up.”

Sam tapped Bucky’s cheeks which seemed to rouse him a bit. He continued tapping away, not stopping even after he saw eyes squinting and a moan escaping his lips.

“That’s right, open your eyes for me.” He stopped his ministrations to look at him.

When it seemed like Bucky would fall right back to sleep, Sam continued slapping the man gently.

“Ngh.”

A pathetic arm movement that Sam could only guess it was Bucky’s attempt at waving him off made Sam grab Bucky’s chin to turn his head at him.

“Don’t go all lazy on me. Open your eyes.” he said firmly.

“Shhh. Go ‘way.”

Sam grabbed the limp man’s arm and forced him to a sitting position. Bucky slumped a bit and Sam pulled him back up again. Bucky’s reluctance was making Sam’s worry climb up his esophagus. He swallowed it back down. When Bucky started relaxing again Sam held him upright.

“Na, uh. Stay!” Sam commanded.

“M not a puppy,” he slurred.

“Then stop behaving like one. Now open your damn eyes!”

Eyelids fluttered for a few moments before slowly prying open. Bleary eyes blinked slowly, seeming to have difficulty focusing on him.

“Hey,” he said softly. Sam lifted the man’s chin and looked into his eyes, one at a time. He didn’t see anything that would normally worry him.

They started to close again.

“No. Keep looking at me.” Sam continued to search Bucky’s eyes for anything of concern.

Bucky finally focused on him. His brows drew together in annoyance. He rubbed his eyes then had to gall to pout his lips like a petulant child.

“What the hell, man? What happened?”

“I was taking a nap! What does it look like?” He waved around.

“Here? On the floor? In the middle of the corridor?”

Bucky shrugged. “Good place as any,” he murmured.

“What about, I don’t know, the bed?” Sam waved his arms around towards the bedroom.

Bucky brought his knees up against his chest and looped his arms around them. He supported his head on them. “Why are you here?” he said tiredly.

“Because I was worried about you. I’ve been texting and calling you for days!” He sat down in front of him. “Jesus, Bucky, I thought you were dead!”

He lifted his head. “Well, obviously I’m not. Now, will you leave?”

Sam sighed and ran a hand over his face. He looked at Bucky, examining him. The dark circles under his eyes, disheveled hair, unkept beard, and he didn’t need to sniff the air to know he hadn’t showered in days. His heart sank.

Bucky huffed. “Why are you still here?”

“Bucky, please, talk to me. I want to help.”

“Then leave me the fuck alone!” He shook his shoulder away from the hand Sam was about to place there.

Sam shook his head. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” His voice cracked and Sam’s heart also cracked a little along with it.

“You need to let me help you, Bucky.”

>---<

Sam moved to sit next to him then just stayed there by his side, their bodies touching. Bucky felt Sam’s body heat and released a shuddering breath, resisting the urge to lean onto him. For several moments Sam was a constant solid presence that wouldn’t let go. “You are not getting rid of me,” he said.

Bucky hid his face on his hands. For several moments, his entire existence was solely focused on getting a hold of himself and yet the vice grip around his chest wouldn’t let go. He felt it tighten and spread all over his body like a cold shadow that turned everything into misery. The pressure inside his head was getting stronger and stronger until it turned into tears that started to sting at his eyes. He suppressed a sniffle and tried to breathe through it but his eyes continued getting wetter by the minute. He started trembling and couldn’t stop himself.

A warm hand circled around his back. Bucky felt himself lose control when the gentle touch pulled him for an embrace. He let himself breakdown for no other reason than the fact he no longer had the energy to hold back. He buried himself on Sam’s shoulder and simply let go. The hand rubbed circles on his back through his tremors, but it only made the weeping turn into desperate sobs.

He gripped tightly and gave up fighting the tsunami of emotions that flooded out of him. He felt himself unable to stop. Every single tear that his body had ever produced overflowed out of him along with all the snot and spit too. He shook uncontrollably and wrapped his hands around Sam.

Sam held him through wails that felt like it would never end. Every single bad emotion that had clung to his chest over the last several weeks, months, years, being washed away.

Time seemed to have stopped. He didn’t know how long it lasted. He felt like he had been sucked into a vortex and come out the other side dazed and muddled. He sniffed away the last few sobs and broke away from Sam, still shaking, feeling a weird sort of disconnect between himself and his body. He was exhausted. Everything moved too slowly. He sat on the floor, shoulders hunched down, mind numb.

“You good?”

Bucky nodded, not trusting his voice to work.

“Why don’t you take a shower? That will help, ok?”

Bucky nodded again, too tired to argue.

Sam stood then an arm appeared in Bucky’s field of vision. He took the arm and gingerly got up onto his feet. Sam held onto him until he was sure he wouldn’t fall.

Bucky walked timidly, still feeling out of sorts. When he got into the bathroom, the water was already running.

“Do you need any help?”

Bucky shook his head and supported his weight against the sink, looking away.

“Okay,” Sam said before he left, leaving the door open.

Bucky shed his clothes and stepped under the stream, the hot water easing the knots he hadn’t realized he had. For several minutes that’s all that he did. He breathed through the numbness and eventually managed to find the energy to scrub himself.

By the time he was finished, he could barely keep himself upright.  He put on the clean pair of sweatpants Sam had left for him at some point during his stupor.

He turned his head slowly when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Hungry? I made you an omelet.”

Bucky shrugged.

“C’mon. It’s ready.”

He sighed, too spent to do anything else. Sam had gone through all that trouble; he might as well try. He dragged his feet all the way to the stool behind the counter where the plate was laid out.

He managed to take a few bites before he found himself unable to swallow any more. He pushed the plate away, looking sheepishly at Sam.

“What about the juice?” Sam looked at him across from the counter.

Bucky forced a few gulps down then put the glass down, surprised to find it empty.

Sam rounded the counter. “C’mon. Time for bed.”

“I’m not a child,” Bucky muttered, shaking his shoulder to get Sam’s hand off.

The comment seemed to have no effect because Sam continued to supervise Bucky all the way into the bedroom. Bucky practically collapsed onto the bed.

“You don’t need to tuck me in too,” he mumbled, even though Sam was already pulling a blanket over him.

He really wanted to complain again, but his eyes were already closing and whatever it was he was going to say, he figured it must be less important than the gentle pull of sleep.

>---<

He woke up surrounded by gentle darkness. A faint light came through the window and Bucky figured it must be nearly morning.

He stared at the ceiling.

It was weird. He felt well rested. His body was relaxed, and his mind refreshed. He tried to remember the last time he felt that way.

He couldn’t.

Then, memories came back to him. The bottles, the pills, the syringes. Sleep depriving himself for days in the hopes of a short reprieve. The thoughts of maybe not waking up again.

And Sam.

He shuffled to the edge of the bed and placed his bare feet down, standing up. He realized his bladder was nearly bursting so he made his way to the bathroom.

After he was done, he followed the faint light and stepped into the living room, finding Sam sitting on the lone armchair in the middle of the room, reading his copy of The Hobbit. Upon hearing Bucky’s footsteps, he looked up, putting the book down.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He stood. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” he said, failing to contain the annoyed edge to his voice. He shouldn’t be annoyed. Sam was trying to help.

He walked over to the stool and sat down, noticing that all trash had vanished from his place. He also saw that his sink was empty and that the marble had been scrubbed clean. His shoulders sank.

“You didn’t have to clean up.”

Sam walked over to him. “Yes, I had. This place was disgusting.” He moved over to the fridge. “Hungry? I can heat up the rest of that omelet.”

Bucky scratched the back of his head. “What time is it? How long was I out?”

Despite Bucky’s lack of an answer, Sam had taken the omelet out of the fridge and was putting it in the microwave. “I don’t think you want to know the answer to the second question, but it is now sunrise.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose. “You stayed here all night? Where did you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Sam shrugged and placed the food in front of Bucky.

Bucky slumped his shoulders, guilt and shame seeping into him. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do any of that. Shouldn’t have.” He looked down at the steaming plate, the smell making his stomach growl. “Not for me, anyway,” he continued softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I had to. You’re my friend, Bucky.”

Bucky looked up at him finding it hard to find any words.

He looked down again. “Why?”

Sam chuckled. “What do you mean why?”

He sighed. “Well…” He looked straight at Sam. “The first time you saw me, I ripped the steering wheel off your car before crashing it with you still inside. The second time, I tore your wing out then kicked you down to what should have been your death. Then the third time, after blowing up a tunnel on top of you, I knocked you out, trying to escape custody.” He ran a hand over his face. “Do I need to continue?”

Sam laughed.

The man actually laughed.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t you.”

Bucky shook his head.

He grabbed the fork and started to pick at his omelet, suddenly finding himself too hungry to continue the conversation.

“C’mon. After you finish up, get changed. We’re going out.”

Bucky whipped his head up. “Where are we going?”

Sam waved at his fridge. “You need stuff. Besides three eggs, all you had inside was an empty carton of milk. An empty one. What kind of animal puts an empty carton back into the fridge?”

Bucky decided his eggs were more interesting and was in the middle of stabbing it with a fork when an alarm went off. He looked at the direction it was coming from, seeing his phone next to the TV, blinking and blaring at him.

“Ah, yes. I took the liberty of setting up a few alarms on your phone.”

“What for?” Bucky asked making his way to silence the damn thing. He unlocked it and saw a series of alarms programed into it, all with different names. This one was for waking up. The next one for breakfast. There was one for cleaning, showering, cooking...

“So you don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

Bucky continued to scroll through, finding his entire routine loosely timed out for him. He ground his teeth. “How did you even unlock it?”

Sam smiled. “Did you know you are a very heavy sleeper?”

Bucky slumped back onto the stool and tossed his phone aside.

“Look,” Sam started. “I just want to make sure you don’t spiral out of control again. Keeping a routine might help. And if you hate it, you can always change it to something you like.”

Bucky let go of his fork, suddenly having lost his appetite.

“Keeping busy is a great way to stop thinking about things you shouldn’t be thinking about,” Sam continued. “Keeping a stocked fridge, having stuff inside your place, doing something you like.”

“I don’t need stuff,” he mumbled.

“Yes, you do. You need shelves.” He waved at an empty wall. “Then you need stuff to put on the shelves.” He pointed at an empty space on the floor. “You also need a couch. You know why I didn’t sleep? Because you got nowhere for me to.” He paused. “You need a coffee table. Some magazines to put on it. A side table over there.” More pointing. “And then some more stuff to put on it. Some pictures on the walls would be nice. Some plants that aren’t dead, knickknacks, throw pillows, I don’t know, whatever it takes to make this place feel like it’s yours.” He walked closer to him. “I can help you with all of that. You don’t even need to ask.” He tilted his head. “In fact, I insist. And if you don’t go shopping with me, I’ll go by myself and buy everything on my own and have it delivered. Possibly choosing the worst possible color.”

Bucky finally looked up at him.

“When you wake up and open your eyes, you will find yourself somewhere that feels like it belongs to you. Not an empty shell.”

“What if I can’t stop thinking, Sam?” His tone was quiet, defeated. He slumped even further onto the stool.

“Then you can talk to me.” He took a deep breath. “If reading a book, going to the movies and cooking dinner won’t work, you call me. Talk to me, yell at me, doesn’t matter, just don’t keep everything in then try to pour it out in all the wrong ways.”

Bucky suddenly felt his chest constricting again and had to breathe through several times to get himself back under control. “I don’t know how.” His voice still sounded hoarse.

“Then I’ll help you. Because that’s what friends do.” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are not in this alone and I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were.”

Tears started to sting at his eyes. He blinked them away. He still felt like he didn’t deserve any of it. He certainly didn’t deserve Sam.

He sniffed and wiped away the tears. He was tired. He was bone tired of always feeling like his body weighed a hundred tons. That every step was a chore and that every moment that he lived was one he didn’t deserve. He was tired of thinking, he was tired of feeling, he was tired of being miserable. He looked up at Sam.

“Can you try that for me?”

Bucky shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t know.”

“C’mon. Get dressed.”

Bucky looked out of the window. “It’s too early.”

“You’ll be surprised how early some places open.”

He didn’t know that was true or not but he knew there was no fighting him. Sam would keep bugging him and bossing him around so he just complied.

“Fine.”

>---<

The door closed behind him and Bucky made his way to the kitchen. Sam walked over to the counter and placed the shopping bags down, Bucky following suit. There were too many things, in way too many bags, what seemed like an excessive amount of food for someone that grew up during the Great Depression. Bucky placed his hands on the counter and just stared.

Sam started to take packages out of the bags and spreading them around. “Are you going to help or not?”

By the time they were done, cupboards were full and the fridge fully stocked. Everything from canned foods that could feed him for a year, to just enough vegetables to last a week.

“I still don’t think it was all necessary.”

Sam ignored his comment, talking the items that weren’t food over near the armchair. He looked back at Bucky then let go of the stack of books and magazines on what seemed like an imaginary coffee table. The items scattered across the floor.

There was something about the scene that almost made Bucky chuckle, but he resisted the urge.

“Come on. You thought that was funny. Admit it.”

Bucky glared at him. “Hilarious.”

“Yes, it was.”

Sam was now grinning, his unwavering smile lighting up the room. Bucky failed to keep his lip from quirking slightly upwards. He rested his hands on his hips and shook his head, lowering it until his chin touched his chest.

“That was so fucking stupid.”

Sam raised a shoulder. “Whatever works, man.”

Bucky let himself finally smile. It wasn’t a grin, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was the smile from someone that was finally feeling warm air after weeks of being freezing cold.

“Thanks, Sam.”

>---<

#fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #sad bucky #sam wilson #sam and bucky #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes has ptsd #bucky barnes has nightmares #sam wilson is a good friend #sam wilson is a saint #sam wilson is a gift #tfatws #fic: tfatws #fic: mine #the falcon and the winter soldier #recovery #bucky barnes feels #emotional hurt/comfort #bucky barnes fic

[wintersoldiersoul]

Headcannons for when you have a bad day

- he notices immediately when you’re in a bad mood

- he sits down next to you and kisses your forehead and hugs you tightly

- asking things like “what’s wrong, my darling?” and “why are you sad, baby girl?”

- listening intently while you tell him so that he can figure out how to make you feel better

- he cooks your favorite meal for dinner (or gets takeout. whatever you want)

- he puts on your comfort show for you while you eat so that you can just relax and distract yourself from whatever upset you

- he’ll give you a long massage, taking his time to work the tension out of your neck and back

- “i’ll be right back,” he tells you with a kiss before disappearing into another room

- a few minutes later he comes back and leads you to the bathroom where he’s run you a bath with rose petals and lit candles

- “do you want me to leave you alone or should i join?”

- of course you want him to join

- when you get out he brings you one of his sweatshirts and your favorite pair of pajama pants

- he brings you a glass of wine (or whatever your fave drink is)

- bucky just wants to spoil you and make you forget about everything that’s upsetting you

- he’s constantly giving you kisses and stroking your arms

- he hates seeing you sad more than anything in the world

- he holds you so close you him when you eventually go to bed, whispering over and over how much he loves you

- even if your day was bad because of something small, he’ll still do everything he can to make you happy

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky #sad bucky #bucky fluff #bucky hc

[midnightbabylon]

Updated Masterlist

* smut

💭 angst/hurt/comfort

💌 fluff

Masterlist

Series

Fate Series: finished!!

Cheater

Traitor

Liar

Lover (The End)

The One Where Series: ongoing

F•R•I•E•N•D•S (Prequel)

Let´s hurt tonight (Sequel) coming soon

One Shots

Roommate‘s Best Friend

New Years Eve

Masterlist

Series

Part Of Me Series: finished

Part One

Part Two

Part Three (The End)

Middle Of The Night Series: ongoing

Part One

Piece Of Your Heart Series: ongoing

Part One

Part Two

Revenge Series: coming soon

One Shots

Somebody To Love

Her (Part 2)

Daddy‘s Little Girl

Till The End Of The Line

Fine

Come Join The Murder •Masterlist•

Series

Play With Fire

One Shots

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #james buchanan barnes #sad bucky #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan masterlist #bucky barnes masterlist #jax teller imagine #charlie hunnam #jax teller x you #jax x reader #jax

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

Happiness & Heartbreak

Summary: You're willing to break your own heart if it means Bucky will finally  find happiness even if it’s not with you.  

Paring: Bucky x Reader, Bucky x OFC! Nikki 

Warnings: Angst!, heart break, crying, cheating  

Word count: 968

A/N: Please give me feedback on what you think about this! this is my first time writing something like this.      

You're not completely sure where things went wrong in yours and Bucky's relationship. You had noticed changes in his behavior and you also noticed the little things he'd stop doing.  

He stopped bringing you flowers from the flower shop by your apartment, he'd stay more late at work or text he wasn't coming over due to taking another mission. The little hello and goodbye kisses were slowly fading away until they were completely gone. 

When you guys were together it was never more than hour or two before  his phone would go off non stop and he'd quickly say  “ Steve needs my help” or “ Sam needs me to look over our last mission report” 

You wanted it to ignore all the signs that were pointing to cheating. What made you finally suspicious that bucky was cheating was when he had invited you as his plus one like always to Tony’s party. Something was different this time then the other times you went with him.   

 Sure enough your suspicions were proven right.  At the party you had excused yourself to go to the restroom and as you were about to return to the party you couldn't help but freeze at the sight in front of you. Bucky had Nikki, the new agent on the team you'd met a couple months back pinned against  the wall. 

He was kissing her neck in a way that he used to do to you. It didn’t help that she had her hands roaming all over bucky. What hurt even more were the words that they exchanged. 

“ Bu- bucky we should stop before you girlfriend comes back” 

Girlfriend? Bucky had told Nikki you were his girl and not fiance.  

“ She won’t find out okay” he pulled away from her neck to cup her face and look into her eyes. “ Look she doesn't make me  as happy as you do so trust  me she will never find out and soon enough we can be happy together” he kisses down her neck again.  

I had to physically hold back your sobs and turn away. You couldn't believe Bucky was capable of something like this, but then again you should have just listened to your head instead of your heart. In your haze of blurry vision you ended up hitting someone. That someone ended up being Steve. 

“ Hey hey what;s wrong darling?” Concern was laced in his voice and evident on his face at the side of you crying. It took everything  in you just to stay the next line before You walk out of the party. 

“ Ask bucky and Nikki”  

The next couple days went by in a blur. Bucky he had been trying to call your phone and reach out to you; however you didn't answer. Steve had informed you that he and Bucky were going on a mission so that if you needed to talk you should do it before he leaves. That is what made you finally go see Bucky at the tower.  

Walking through the Halls you try to keep your composure as memories flood back from that night. Your feet finally stopped you as you reached the buckys door, you hesitate to knock but before you could do so his door opens. Damn super soldier hearing you thought.  

His appearance was rough, you could tell he had been crying, his eyes were still puffy and his beard grew a little. You walked into his room looking around it before you finally turned around. You were the first to speak. 

“ Does Nikki make you happy?” Your question caught him off guard as he was expecting you to be sad or angry but you kept a straight face with a neural expression  

“ w-what?” 

“ Answer me James, does she make you happy?” felt his heart break a little at the way you called him in his first name , that something you'd never do unless  you were serious about something. 

Silence filled the room for a couple seconds before Bucky finally spoke. 

“ yes but-” 

“ There’s no but  bucky she either makes you happy or she doesn't and clearly she makes you happy if you had to go and cheat on me your “ girlfriend” your voice turned bitter now as you couldn't keep your composure anymore. 

“ Listen doll, I'm sorry! i fcuked up big time I did but I love you! You're the one I want, I swear won’t see her again I promise '' Bucky began to cry as he couldn't believe the pain he caused you.   

 “That’s the thing, you never truly loved me because if you did you wouldn’t  have done this to me, and your promises don't mean anything. You promised to never hear me yet here we are” Your voice sounded so broken even more but you said next shattered his heart. 

“ You see James, I love you so much that I’m willing to let you go to be happy with her!”  

 “dol-” 

 “No bucky, I’m willing to lose my happiness as long as it makes you happy!  because after everything you have been through in life you deserve a chance at true happiness …. I  clearly can’t give you that”  

 “ I don’t want happiness if in the end it leaves you broken!” both of you were crying at this point. 

“ I’ve been broken plenty of times before you. It was only a matter of time before it happened again, I just didn’t think it was you hurting me.” you fiddle the ring on your finger as you take it off. Right then and there bucky knew had lost you forever as you placed the ring in his hand.  

 You look up to meet bucky blue eyes one last “ I truly hope she makes you happy because i clearly couldn't. ” and just like that you walked out of Buck’s life. 

Taglist: @vbecker10​ @hannibals-favourite-meal​ @peachyymallows​   @tetheredstar @pigwidgeonxo​ @hotplussizegirl

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #cheating bucky #sad bucky #angst prompt

[sjsmith56]

A Little Calm - Part 21, From There To Here - Bucky Barnes One Shots

Summary: Bucky is living in a Wakandan village, raising goats and making goat cheese. Word of a visit from a woman he fell in love with reaches him. His hopes for something permanent with her don’t materialize. When King T’Challa arrives with his new arm he realizes he is needed for a fight.

Length: 5.7K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named original female character, assorted Wakandan villagers, Shuri, T’Challa, Okoye.

Warnings: naughty goats (specifically Constance and Stevie), Bucky’s romantic hopes dashed, Bucky accepting he has to fight.

Author notes: Swahili phrases and words are taken from Google Translate or from the University of Kansas online resources https://kiswahili.ku.edu/sites/kiswahili/files/documents/lessons/lesson_53.pdf. The descriptions of teff porridge, goat rearing and cheese making are from various internet resources and have been simplified in this story. The terms describing Bucky's Wakandan clothing was taken from a Tumblr reply by @devildears on July 11, 2018.

<<Part 20

🛖🐐

It wasn't the crow of the rooster that woke Bucky up. He had slept well; no nightmares had plagued him this time. When he opened his eyes feeling that something wasn't right it took a few moments before he realized what it was. He couldn't hear his goats.

"Shit," he muttered, sitting up and heading to the small bathroom in his hut, where he relieved himself.

Pulling his work pants on first he tugged on a sleeveless undershirt, tucked it in, then pulled up the fly on his pants, doing the button up as he walked back to his bed. His boots were ready to be slipped on and he quickly tied the laces using the one-handed technique that had taken him a day to figure out when he first came to Wakanda. After double knotting the loops, he grabbed his work shirt and slipped it on, doing up the buttons as he headed outside.

"Dammit goats," he said out loud, seeing where one of them had pulled away the wire netting creating a hole big enough for the baby goats to get out. Of course, the nanny goats, seeing their kids outside of the enclosure had finished the job, pulling it even further to where one of them, likely Constance, had pushed and pushed the post until it fell over, opening up an even bigger space for her and the other nanny goats to escape as well. Constance was known for continually testing the strength of the posts that he and his neighbour, Silumko had spent hours pounding into the soil when they first erected the pen. Stepping over the mess of the peeled back wire netting he strode into the small shed that acted as a shelter during rainy times to see if any of the goats still remained. He was shocked to see Constance there.

"Okay," he said to the oldest goat he owned. "So, it wasn't you that pushed the post over. Unless you did it just to bother me and send me on a wild goose chase, or should I say, wild goat chase."

Bucky didn't know why he was talking to the goat. It wasn't like she was going to answer him, as she stood there calmly eating what was left of the sweet hay he brought in the day before. Maybe she was the guilty party so she could have the hay all to herself. He posed that to her but of course she gave no indication that she even understood what he was saying.

"Damn goat," he muttered again.

The sound of one of the baby goats bleating drew his attention and he came out to the sight of Silumko's son Uuka, carrying Stevie, his oldest billy goat who was making a big show of struggling against the arms of the boy.

"White Wolf, I found this one in our garden," said the boy, in English. "Mama sent me to tell you the others are scattered over the whole village."

"Thank you," replied Bucky, taking the struggling goat from the boy. "Can you help me round them up?"

"Of course, Mama said I should help," replied Uuka. He looked critically at the goat paddock. "You might have to fix this first otherwise they will just get out again."

"Tell me something I don't know, kid," thought the older man.

Still carrying the struggling Stevie, he went into his hut and came out with a handful of collars and tethers. With Uuka's assistance they managed to get one on the uncooperative goat and he tied him up to one of the sturdier posts. Looking sternly at Constance, Bucky pointed his finger at her.

"Stay here," he commanded, then with a grimace he and Uuka began to jog towards the village to find the others.

Two hours later they finally found the last of the runaways, a nanny goat, thanks to the assistance of two other boys, Chuma and Luzuko. On their arrival back at Bucky's hut he was relieved to see that none of the returned goats had managed to escape again. Silumko was already there with another neighbour Akida, trying to reset the knocked over post.

"White Wolf, all that time we spent making sure this post was secure before attaching the netting was for nothing," smiled Silumko, then he pointed at Constance. "It was this one, wasn't it?"

"I'm sure of it," answered Bucky, running his hand through his long hair. "She was still in the pen, eating the sweet hay I put in yesterday, as if she wanted it all to herself." He looked at Akida. "I should sell her back to you for all the trouble she gives me."

"Why do you think I sold her to you?" laughed Akida. "My wife was ready to leave me because of that one. You have no wife to anger, although I've heard it said that a few of the unmarried ones think you're a good project to take on."

"I'm too old to be married," replied Bucky, trying not to blush. "Calling me a project to take on doesn't give me much credit, either."

The other two men thought that was the funniest thing they ever heard and laughed out loud. "I'll tell you a little secret," said Silumko, beckoning Bucky to come closer. "All men are a project to take on. We all need a woman to civilize us, even our king. When he finally accepts his fate and takes a wife, he will be a much happier man." The sound of their wives calling to them brought their laughter to a quick end. Silumko smiled and patted Bucky on the shoulder. "We'll be back to help you rebuild the goat's pen. Think seriously about what I said, White Wolf. The right woman in your life could bring you the happiness you deserve. At the very least, she would be an extra set of hands."

Smiling half-heartedly back at the two men Bucky looked over the destruction of the pen. It was true that being one-armed had limited him in many ways, but it had also freed him in others. No longer was that shining monstrosity a constant reminder of what his life had been for so long. Without its bulk that forced him into an unnatural walk to balance properly he felt almost normal. Shuri had told him from the beginning they were building him a new arm, one more natural in appearance and feel but he wasn't sure he wanted it. He thought he had managed quite well without the appendage although on a day like today he would have appreciated having two arms so that he could just get started on fixing the damaged pen without waiting for the assistance of others. A chiming sound from inside his hut drew his attention and he entered his home, seeing the holographic notification above his kimoyo bead bracelet that there was a message for him.

Slipping his hand inside the loop he used his thumb to activate the message from Shuri.

"Sergeant Barnes, are you able to receive a guest? Ayanna Maina has arrived to take photographs for her next exhibition and would like to make your acquaintance again. Would you be able to host her for a few days starting tomorrow?"

Ayanna ... it had been almost 8 months since he last saw her. As a child, she had shown an ability in photography that was nurtured and encouraged to the point where she was now one of the top wildlife photographers in the world. It had been eight months since she appeared at the dinner table in the palace as a guest of Queen Ramonda and they were introduced. Eight months since he walked in the gardens at the palace with her, becoming entranced by her quick wit and gentle soul. Eight months since he last smelled her hair and felt her soft skin under his fingertips when she found her way through his defences to become mshikaji, his lover. Her timing could have been better, but he wouldn't let a few runaway goats deter him from seeing Ayanna again. Toggling the reply command on the bracelet he answered Shuri's message.

"It would be my pleasure to see Ayanna again," he said. "Mpaka kesho, until tomorrow."

He opened his small solar powered refrigerator and pulled out some leftover teff porridge that he made the day before. Starting up his butane one burner stove he put some goat's milk in a pot and added the porridge to it, stirring it to mix the two together. When it was the right consistency, he turned the burner down and pulled out some dates, nuts and apple, chopping them into coarse pieces, then adding them to the mix, stirring until it had heated everything up. He put a couple of spoonfuls of honey on it to sweeten it up. Turning off the burner he put a large spoon into the pot and took it outside, setting the pot on a bench outside of his door. Trying not to eat quickly he spooned the tasty porridge into his mouth, enjoying the different textures, thinking his mother would be proud that he could cook porridge. When he was finished, he took the pot back inside and filled it with water, adding some natural detergent gel. Using a rag in his hand he washed out the pot, rinsed it, then left it to air dry.

While waiting for the men to return he brought his tools out and took another look at what had been done to damage the fencing of the pen. When the other two men returned Silumko brought some quick setting cement with him. Together he and Akida pulled the fence post out then mixed the cement with water until it was the right consistency, pouring it into the hole before sinking the post back in the mixture. While it set, they straightened the metal netting, noting where it was damaged by the noticeable teeth marks that eventually wore a section of it through, allowing a persistent goat to pull at it repeatedly, eventually pulling it completely away.

"This must have taken her days to do this," said Akida. "You didn't notice?"

"I was busy with the Princess the past few days," stated Bucky. "Still becoming educated on what has happened in the world."

"Is that what it's called?" smirked Silumko. "There are those who say you and the Princess are friendly."

Bucky stood upright, looking at his neighbour with surprise at the tone he used with the word "friendly."

"She is like my sister," he declared. "Plus, her brother is my friend and, in my country, if a man expresses interest in his friend's sister, he better be ready to marry her. We also shouldn't be discussing the King and the Princess as if they are regular people. They aren't."

"Sounds like Silumko touched a nerve," noted Akida. "That was a long reply to a general observation."

Huffing a little Bucky went to find more of the wire netting, remembering he had some somewhere. The other two men continued their conversation about him in their language.

"Ninaweza kukusikia, unajua," he called out in Swahili, then repeated it in English for good measure. "I can hear you; you know." He came back, carrying the rest of the roll of wire netting. "You two are like the old men who sit in the shade of their daughter's hut, gossiping about everyone they see."

A flash of white teeth appeared as the two men laughed, knowing it was true.

"We care about you, Sergeant," said Akida. "You are the oldest man here, but you still have a young man's face and body. You must still have a young man's desires. To live like a hermit is not good for a young man's soul. We would see you happy, with a good wife and many children."

"Now you're sounding like the wives who send their unattached daughters to bring me food," stated Bucky, looking directly at them. "Perhaps I don't want a wife, and why would I want children when so many of them here already pester me?"

The other two men didn't respond but they did grin at each other as it was true the children pestered him. They all saw through his façade of stoicism and indifference, to see the real man they all knew and cared about. He was the man who went after a panther that stalked the village a few months before, stealthily tracking it into the bush, then physically wrestling it into submission so that it could be tranquillized and relocated to another location, away from people. The deep scratches and bite marks he received from the strong creature were ignored as he used his great strength to immobilize the panther while a wildlife officer injected it. They all knew he was brave but that was the day they realized he saw the people of the village as family that must be protected. As he sat in front of the healer's hut and removed his upper garments so she could treat his wounds a fairly sizeable audience gathered in respect of his abilities. More than a few women were there just to admire his impressive physique.

Since that time, he had become a fixture in the village, even though he held himself apart from much of their celebrations. Occasionally, he indulged in playing football with the children, the international kind, not the American kind that was seen on one of the few television sets in the village. Whenever something had to be built, he was there. If any heavy lifting had to be done, he would silently appear then leave without waiting for thanks. In many ways he had inserted himself into village life so well that the thought he would someday leave wasn't even considered.

Akida looked fondly at the dark-haired man. "Perhaps we just want you to be happy, White Wolf," he said gently. "You are a man who deserves that much."

Bucky looked up at the man, expecting to see amusement but instead he saw sincerity and smiled back.

"Thank you," he replied. "You are too kind."

With a nod, Akida and Silumko stretched the new wire netting over the now immobile post while Bucky hammered nails into it to fasten the covering. They cut an overlapping section and each of them interwove the new piece with the old fence sections, making sure it could not be picked apart by a devious goat again. Once the fix was completed the three men untethered all the goats, allowing them their freedom inside their sizeable pen.

"Thank you," said Bucky, pressing his clenched fist into his chest and bowing his head. "That's only half my day wasted."

"It's never a waste when you are with friends, White Wolf," said Silumko, with a grin. "Come to my hut for lunch. My wife always makes too much, and I don't have any daughters of marrying age to parade in front of you. You'll be safe for a little while longer."

"Thank you, I will," replied Bucky.

The other two men took their leave and Bucky proceeded to load some more hay into the pen for the goats to eat. Entering back into his hut he took stock of how it looked. He wasn't a messy man but living alone had brought out some bad habits and he knew he should clean up before Ayanna arrived. First, he searched for any dirty dishes that may be around, knowing there were times he would put things down and forget about them. Filling up a kettle with water he put it on the burner then once it got hot, he poured it into the wash tub, along with some detergent gel. As they soaked, he found his broom and swept out the hut. Then he finished washing the dishes and left them to air dry. Next, he checked his bedding. Remembering what happened between him and Ayanna the last time they were together he decided it would be prudent to change the sheets. He had a set of clean ones in his bureau so he changed them out and bundled up the dirty ones, intending to wash them later in the communal laundry hut. Finally, he picked up all of his dirty clothes that were scattered around and put them into a basket for washing later. Satisfied with how it looked he left for Silumko's hut.

After lunch he returned to his hut and took the dirty clothes and sheets from the basket, loading them into a duffel bag, along with some organic laundry gel. He put a paperback book into the bag as well, intending to read a bit. Slinging the strap over his shoulder so that the bag lay across the other hip he walked the short distance to the communal laundry hut. When he arrived he was alone, which suited him fine, but word must have gone out that White Wolf was doing laundry as soon a number of unmarried women, and a couple of men, showed up to do theirs.

"White Wolf, I would have done your laundry for you," said one of the more forward of the women, Chiku, as she sized him up. "Surely, a strong man like you has other tasks to attend to."

"I don't mind doing my own laundry, Chiku, but thank you for the offer," he said.

She shrugged and put her own things in the open washing machine next to him. He tried to ignore her as he sat on a chair opposite and opened his paperback book, Discworld by Terry Pratchett.

"What are you reading Sergeant?" asked Badru, a young man. Sighing, Bucky raised the book so everyone could see the cover. "Ah, a classic of modern fantasy, am I right?"

"So, I've been told," answered Bucky, once more burying his face in the book.

It took several more attempts and failures to engage him in conversation before they left him alone and began talking amongst themselves. As their conversation became louder and more animated Bucky gave up trying to read and checked to see if the washing cycle was done. As soon as the final spin cycle finished Bucky pulled everything out, stuffed it into the duffel bag and hurried back to his hut so he could hang everything on a line to dry. That took him some time but he finally got everything up and sat back on the bench to read his book in peace.

The rest of the day passed peacefully enough and Bucky was able to take his laundry in well before sunset. After he folded everything and put them away he went out to check the fence, satisfying himself that the repair should hold for a long time. Then he set about milking the nanny goats, as they hadn't been milked in the morning due to the broken fence. He would have time to add some starter culture and rennet to the milk to begin the process of turning it into cheese. By the morning he would be able to drain the whey off then salt the curds before forming the cheese rounds. Silumko's wife, Banou, had asked if he was making cheese anytime soon. After the good lunch she fed him, he was happy to oblige. It was well past sunset when he put the muslin over the pot where the curds were already forming.

Stepping outside for a moment Bucky walked away from the light spilling out of his doorway and looked up into the night sky, so full of stars. It was truly spectacular and he tried to get out every night to enjoy the serenity. After he had his fill of it he returned inside his hut, pulled his blanket door over and undressed before getting under the covers of his bed. Sleep came quickly.

The crow of the rooster woke Bucky up but this time he didn't get up right away. Instead he laid back with his hand under his head as he went over his plans for the day. First, draining the whey from the curds of the cheese he started last night, then breakfast, then milking the goats and trading the milk with others for food. That should give him enough time to shower and change into traditional clothing to welcome Ayanna to his home. After that, he would see how the welcome with Ayanna went first before deciding.

As Bucky crossed off his mental checklist of things to do he added one more to his list, lunch with Ayanna. When he last saw her he was living in the palace, his meals provided by the servants. Shuri brought up the plan to place him in a village to learn how to take care of himself while they built his new arm. He wanted to show Ayanna that he had adapted well to the situation, becoming self-sufficient.

After he finished all of his chores Bucky quickly showered and wrapped a thin red shuka cloth around his body. Then he wrapped the second heavier red patterned shuka cloth on top of it, pulling a leather belt on and fastening it around his middle. Finally he knotted a blue shawl and pulled it over his head so that it covered his shoulder implant. Using his right hand he gathered his long hair off of his face and and tied it off as best he could. There was nothing to do but wait and he eventually laid down, breathing deeply and rhythmically to calm himself. It worked all too well as he was awakened from a restful nap by the sound of Uuka and two of his friends whispering White Wolf while they watched him, then the boys scattering when he opened his eyes.

"Kids," he muttered, then he sat up.

He could hear the boys being gently chastised by Shuri outside so he went to the cloth, pushing it aside and bending his head as he stepped outside. The princess was standing by a tree.

"Hello, Sergeant Barnes," she said. "I bring you greetings from my brother, the king. I also bring you a friend."

She nodded towards the lake and he looked past the princess to where Ayanna was standing with her back to him, her hands in the pockets of loose linen trousers, looking out over the water.

"Go to her," said the princess. "I have other business to attend to."

His heart rate increased as he came closer to her, then she turned around and gave him a soft smile. Her curly hair had been pulled into a bun and the white shirt she was wearing made her look almost ethereal against the blues of the water behind her.

"James," she said simply.

"Ayanna," he replied. "You look amazing."

Her smile broadened. "You look good in traditional clothing," she noted. "Red for a warrior. Are you still a warrior, James?"

"That's just because I caught a panther that was stalking some livestock," he replied, almost shyly.

"I heard it was more than just catching a predator," she countered. "It was stalking children as well." She came towards him. "I'm glad you're doing well. If anyone deserves to live in peace it is you, James, mhibu."

He could feel his cheeks get warm at her calling him "dear one." For a moment he almost responded with mpwenda, beloved, but something stopped him, and he just smiled at her instead. Gesturing towards his hut they walked side by side towards the small home that he had made his own. Pulling the blanket aside and fastening it to a hook he let her in first then stood behind her as he described his home.

"I noticed goats in a pen," she commented. "Are they yours?"

"They are," he replied, stepping back outside. "I have several nanny goats that I milk. I either barter the milk or I make cheese from it. The baby goats will stay until they mature then I'll sell them to other people. They are fun to watch so I enjoy their antics while I have them."

She nodded then looked up at him and for a moment he wanted to kiss her, remembering that night they spent together. Before he could act she pulled away and walked towards the bench in front of his hut, patting the empty space beside her as she sat down.

"There is something I have to tell you," she said. "You deserve to hear it directly from me and not via a mutual friend."

"What is it?" he asked, feeling somewhat afraid of the answer.

"I am getting married," she replied, looking out over the lake. "He's one of my body guards that accompany me when I go to dangerous places. On my last assignment we ended up becoming close after we were taken hostage. He kept me safe and was able to manage our escape. Since then we grew even closer and it became love."

Bucky sat motionless, feeling almost sick at her revelation. He couldn't be angry as it wasn't like they had a relationship. It had just been a friendship that became physical one night. Nervously, he licked his lips then he let out a long breath before turning to her.

"Congratulations," he said. "I'm happy for you. He must be quite the man to have won your heart."

"He is," she replied. "He's very much like you." She was quiet for several moments. "If I hadn't met him I would have returned sooner to be with you." She gently touched his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. "You will always have a special place in my heart, James. You are one of the best men I know."

He smiled grimly as she squeezed his hand slightly. "You won't be staying with me tonight."

"No, it wouldn't be proper," she admitted. "I'm staying with the healer. But I would like to take some pictures of you while I'm here, with your permission of course. The world needs to see that you are more than capable of living a peaceful life."

Quietly, he nodded his head and they sat there for some time, not speaking. Eventually he went back into his hut and prepared lunch for them both, bringing out the small table and placing it in front of the bench so they could eat outside. After they finished she took her leave.

"They are having a feast for me," said Ayanna. "Will you be there?"

"I will if you want me there," replied Bucky.

"I will see you then," she replied. "Wear this again. I like seeing you in it."

Looking out over the lake he nodded but didn't watch her as she walked towards the healer's hut. Then he went back into his hut and sat on his bed for some time. After he came to terms with losing a love before it ever really took root he sighed and put an apron on over his shuka. He gathered the cloth that held the solid curds of the cheese, twisting and squeezing it so that the remaining whey drained off. Salting the cheese came next, mixing it in thoroughly he packed the curds into containers then put them in his small refrigerator, covering them again with a cloth while they began curing.

When he arrived in the centre of the village for the feast he paid his respects to the village elders before taking a position with the unmarried men. He sat there throughout the welcome and official greetings extended to Shuri first, then Ayanna, watching her. There was a man sitting next to her, a Westerner with brown hair. They held hands throughout the greetings and the entertainment. She looked so happy, and Bucky accepted that the looks the couple exchanged were genuine. Once everyone was invited to begin eating he used the crowd to slip away back to his hut. He sat on the bench outside watching the sun set, then the sky getting darker until the stars came out. A glowing light approached and he looked up to see Shuri with a lantern. Smiling at him she sat on the bench next to him.

"Are you alright, Sergeant Barnes?" she asked calmly.

"No, but I will be," he replied, after several minutes. "There was never anything formal spoken between us. We had a friendship that I thought became more one night. When you called to tell me that she was coming I ... hoped that she wanted to pursue a more permanent relationship."

He breathed out a quick breath and shook his head. "Sergeant Barnes, I think you mattered to Ayanna more than you think. It was her request to come and see you."

"Doesn't matter," he stated. "She belongs with him, now. I don't get involved with someone who is already in a relationship. I didn't do it when I was a ladies' man; I'm not about to start now." He turned his head and looked intently at Shuri. "I'll be alright, really. In fact, I hope they're very happy together. She deserves that."

"She believes that you deserve happiness as well. It's why she came here."

Bucky didn't answer and after a while Shuri sighed, leaving him alone. Eventually he undressed and laid down in his bed. He didn't know when he fell asleep but when he woke up in the morning Ayanna was there, sitting on the floor with her camera, her hair freed from the bun of the day before.

"I wanted a picture of you in your traditional clothing," she stated, "but you left the feast early. David also wanted to meet you before he returned to Birnin Zana this morning. So, what's the expression ... I'm batting zero for two?"

"How did you get in without me hearing you?" he asked. "I'm not much of a super soldier if you managed to get in here without me knowing."

Ayanna smiled. "You're not the only person with stealth abilities. How do you think I get most of my wildlife shots? I blend in with the environment and I take my time approaching my subject."

"Could you wait outside while I get dressed?" asked Bucky.

"I have seen you with your clothes off," she countered but his face remained the same. She stood up. "Alright, I'll wait outside. You're grumpy this morning, James."

She went out the doorway, pulling the cloth across so he had privacy. While she waited, she went over to the goat pen and took some pictures of the goats. Then she walked down to the lake and took some pictures there. When Bucky joined her, he was wearing his normal work clothes.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?" he asked.

"No, I'm starving," she replied. "What do you have?"

"Leftover teff porridge, fruit, eggs, and goat cheese," he answered. "I made the cheese myself."

"How about an omelette with some goat cheese?"

"I can make that," said Bucky.

Soon he had a couple of omelettes prepared, filled with fresh goat cheese, and had poured some coffee, with goat's milk since Ayanna didn't like hers without. They ate outside again, with the small table brought out for them to share. When they finished eating she helped him with the dishes, giggling a little as they bumped into each other in the small hut. As Bucky began his normal day she took pictures of him; milking the nanny goats, trading the milk for other food and goods, then he got word that some feed that he ordered had been delivered to the other side of the village.

"I have to go borrow a cart," he said to Ayanna. "You can come with me or wait here."

"How long will you be?" she asked.

"Half an hour, maybe," he replied. "I have to load it."

"I'll come with you," she said.

They borrowed the cart and the donkeys that would pull it. He led the creatures to where the feed was, at the bottom of a slope, near another goat farmer's hut. Ayanna took pictures of Bucky as he hauled the heavy bags of feed onto the cart. It was hot, sweaty work but he approached it methodically, almost as if he had a rhythm. They both heard the talon fighter approach then saw it hover overhead before it landed at the top of the slope where the land was flat. Several of the King's Guard came out, one of them carrying a large case. King T'Challa and his Dora Milaje General Okoye began striding towards them. The man with the case put it on top of the feed on the cart, opening it then assumed a position some distance away. Ayanna watched as Bucky cautiously approached, seeing the contents of the case. Still staring at it he spoke, almost as if he was resigning himself to something dire.

"Where's the fight?"

"On its way," replied T'Challa.

"What's happened?" she asked, as Bucky continued to stare at the prosthetic arm nestled inside the case.

"Trouble," replied the king. "For everyone. We need Sergeant Barnes."

Nodding his head Bucky waited as the king took the arm out of the case. Removing the shawl from around his shoulder Bucky offered the side of his body to T'Challa who attached the arm.

"Swing it backwards in a full circle to set it," advised Okoye.

Following her instructions Bucky did then he looked at Ayanna and smiled softly at her.

"Ask my neighbours to look after the goats," he asked her.

"We will send someone for your things," said T'Challa. "Miss Maina, your fiancé will be coming for you soon to take you to safety. I would suggest you return to the village immediately."

With a raising of his hand that signalled they were leaving the king and his guards started back up the slope with Bucky following them. Ayanna called out to Bucky and ran up to him, placing her hand on his cheek. This time he didn't hesitate, pulling her into his arms and kissing her fiercely. Then he pulled away and caressed her face, looking at her with a soft smile. Turning around he kept walking up the hill until she couldn't see him anymore.

Part 22>>

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