pov- imagines

UNSAFE- B. BARNES

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of steve rogers, natasha romanoff, tony stark, ONE mention of brock rumlow

warnings: heavy description of injuries, kidnapping, hydra, blood, violence, knives, one very sIight implication of some sort of sexual assault, but it is one mention and does not go into detail or is acted on

about: ! (DF13) "you're safe." + (DA19) "touch her, and i'll murder you." + DA21) "put down the knife."

a/n: i am so sorry this took so long, i received this during a really hard time and had trouble coming up with where and how i wanted this to go, but i do hope you like this and it is what you wanted and expected. thank you so so much for requesting! <3

bucky had warned you of the dangers of being with him. it wasn't in any effort to make you feel weak because you weren't a highly trained assassin or high powered fighter capable of defending themselves against the great dangers assigned to the avengers, but it was a warning. a hand reaching out to push you away—his own hand, even though all he wanted to do with it was pull you closer until he couldn't anymore.

he had told you of the risks you were taking by even being associated with him, ranging from harassment because you would dare trust the horrid winter soldier to dangers to your life because to others, he was an asset—an object. a weapon you were standing in the way of getting.

but you refused to see it that way, like bucky was a detriment instead of the best damn thing that had happened to your life in a while.

so, you stayed. stubbornly refusing to move as he pushed you away with closed doors and hands splayed on walls, reaching for you through the self loathing tears and the swears that he was bad for you. you pressed on, reaching through the walls to thread your fingers through his and pull him to you. and because of his love, so beautiful and deep and strong, he let you, let the water of his adoration wash over him and blur the warning signs that levitate over his head.

he let his selfishness envelop the both of you inside an oblivious bubble, thinking he could protect you from anything, that you were safe.

until, after a quick run to the grocery store across the street, instead of the sight of you, soft and comfortable on the couch, waiting for him, he was met with broken shards of glass on his floors, knocked over lamps and scattered fruit, browning bananas smeared on the floor, a footprint on the darkened yellow. the bags in his hand drop to the floor, the cookies he'd bought for you surely cracking upon the impact, clementines falling out of the bag, but he couldn't care less, not as he ran through the apartment that had once been his safe haven, brightened up with the reminders of you littered throughout. the mugs that had once been neatly placed inside cupboards were now broken on the ground, your books splayed on the carpet with the spines cracked, pages torn, your phone's screen cracked, stained with the sticky red he never wanted to see in association with you.

the lump in his throat has never felt more real, more solid than when he finds a bloodied knife, a note stained with bubbles of scarlet, for our winter soldier in curved handwriting. his knees feel weak enough to crack to the floor, trembling fingers searching for you in the ruins of his apartment as tears streak through the cheeks that had been smiling not an hour ago, kissed by your lips, blessed by your smile.

he wants to shrink into the bed that still smells of you and cry and wish that this isn't true, that a tornado came through the apartment and you're hidden away in a closet safely, about to step out and into his arms.

but in bucky barnes' life, there are few possibilities, and the most likely, one that's been looming at the forefront of his mind ever since he decided to let himself be selfish.