Bucky Barnes Oneshots

stress: blurb (fluff/angst)

Bucky had been incredibly busy with work. When he wasn't working, he was helping Steve and Peggy renovate their home they were moving into, and you didn't want to add to the stress. They had just returned from their honeymoon, and Bucky had been helping Steve lay new floors in their home, and you'd helped Peggy paint the walls bright shades of blue.

You had been dealing with anxiety lately, but you had convinced yourself you could handle it, and you didn't need to burden Bucky with your own issues. You had been handling it as well as expected, but it slowly built up until you couldn't handle it anymore.

"Y/N?"

The glass bowl slipped from your shaking hands, smashing on the marble floor. Broken glass and ruined salad went everywhere, surrounding your bare feet. You were trembling, and tears started rolling down your cheeks.

"Oh my god, doll. Don't move, hold on!" Bucky gasped, pulling on shoes and walking over to you. He carefully picked you up and carried you out of the kitchen so you didn't cut your feet.

"I-I'll clean it up, I'm so sorry!" you were stammering, and his frown deepened. You covered your mouth with your hands, and Bucky sat down in a chair and lifted his arms up to you.

"Don't worry about the broken glass. I'll take care of it in a bit. Come here," Bucky's voice was quiet, and you walked into his arms. He pulled you down on his lap, letting you sink against his warm body.

One hand rested on your leg, and the other gently cradled your head against his chest. Your fingers weakly gripped at his soft sweater, and he rocked you gently, kissing your forehead.

"Tell me what's going on in there," he whispered against your forehead.

"I'm just anxious..." you confessed, not wanting him to get angry at you.

"I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me? We could've worked through it together before-"

"I'm sorry," you cried, burying your face in his shoulder.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. It's alright, Y/N."

He helped you mirror his breathing, calming down your sobs. Bucky was patient with you, not rushing you into an explanation. He looked over at the clock, seeing it was already nearly midnight. He felt you slowly relax in his lap, listening to your breathing slow.

Once you were asleep, he carried you to your shared bedroom, lying you down in the bed. You stirred, and he covered you with the blankets, quietly turning on a lavender diffuser.

"James?"

"Go back to sleep, doll."

He kissed you softly and you drifted back off. Bucky watched you for a few minutes, making sure you were okay.

He slipped back out to the kitchen and cleaned up the shattered glass and salad, making sure there was nothing to cut your feet left. He felt incredibly guilty for missing the buildup of anxiety. He'd been busy with work and helping Steve, and he'd neglected to truly notice you.

Once the glass was picked up from the floor, he sent an email to his boss to say he'd be taking the rest of the week off. Bucky picked up the rest of the house silently so it would be clean and organized and not too stimulating for you when you woke up.

When he finally went to bed, you were long asleep. He slipped in beside you, carefully wrapping his body around yours. Even in your sleep, you instinctively snuggled into him.

Bucky drifted in and out of sleep, and he got up once the sun began to rise. He hadn't slept well, worrying about you.

He quietly made your favorite pancakes in the kitchen, music playing softly in the background as he cooked.

"James? Why aren't you at work?"

He turned when he heard your sleepy voice, and you walked over, taking his hand.

"I'm taking the rest of the week off."

You didn't object to that, squeezing his hand gently. You watched him cook quietly, only letting go of him to pour the two of you cups of coffee.

"You cleaned."

"I did, didn't want you to worry about it," he offered his sweet smile that made your heart swell. You thanked him, pouring vanilla cream into your coffee, standing on your toes to reach it on the shelf.

"Go turn on one of your films," Bucky hummed, gently pushing you out of the kitchen.

You went to sit on the couch, putting on a movie you'd been wanting to see on Netflix. You held your coffee, and before long Bucky put a plate of pancakes in your lap. His kiss tasted like maple syrup, making you smile.

"I'm so sorry that I neglected you," Bucky whispered into your hair.

"No, Bucky. I didn't want you to know, I thought I could handle it."

"I'll always help you. Please let me."

Those silver eyes were soft, and you felt like he could see straight into your mind and your heart. You nodded, leaning into his arms so he could hold you. Your anxiety stopped making you feel sick as you opened up to Bucky. He didn't let you be alone in your struggles anymore, taking some of the burden and supporting you.