Sebastian Stan Imagines

Bucky Barnes - The Blame

Summary: You have a huge cut on your arm, which you did to yourself. You blame it on a mission. But your boyfriend convinces you to tell the truth. (Also, make up some sort of bad thing happening in your life that makes you do this.)

Warning: Mentions of self-harm.

You couldn't hide it. You can't hide the huge scar on your right arm. But you can lie and say it was from a mission.

"It's fine," You thought. "I've dealt with worse."

You threw on a tank-top, sweatpants, and braided your hair into two. You laced up your high tops, before heading out of your room.

Avengers that walked past you eyed your arm, but didn't say anything. 

"See?" You thought. "Everyone probably just thinks it was a mission."

You walked downstairs, walking into the main room to find Tony and Rhodey looking at some blueprints with Bruce taking notes on an iPad, Clint and Wanda playing chess, Peter doing homework, and your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, sitting next to Steve as they looked through old photos.

Everyone looked up when you walked in, and you moved into the kitchen, everyone having access to see your arm.

No one said anything for awhile while you took out a mug and poured in apple cider.

"How'd you do that to your arm?" Bruce asked.

"Mission," You said, shrugging your shoulders while sipping your cider.

"Which one?" Tony asked.

"The one a few weeks ago," You said, a little too quickly.

"That cut looks fresh," Bruce said. "The last mission was a few weeks ago."

You bit your bottom lip, making eye-contact with Bucky, who's eyes were filled with horror and worry. He knew.

You tore your gaze away, but he stood up, walking towards you.

He grabbed your shoulders, spinning you so you were facing him.

"Please tell me that is from a mission," Bucky said, on the edge of tears. "Please tell me you didn't do that to yourself."

Bruce's and Tony's eyes went wide, while the others had a hand over their mouth.

"Y/n, medical wing," Bruce said. You didn't move. Bucky's hands were squeezing your shoulders, his eyes watering. "Now!"

You jumped, slipping out of Bucky's grasp and walking behind Bruce.

He took you to the medical wing, not saying anything, but wrapping your arm in silence so it would heal better.

"Go," Bruce said. "Tell Bucky the truth."

"He already knows," You said, opening the door.

"Confirm it," Bruce said. "He deserves it."

Nodding your head, you sprinted to your room like a demon was chasing you.

You ran up the stairs, running as fast as you could, not caring that you were being loud. 

You couldn't. You couldn't stand this.

Racing to your room, you burst open the door, throwing open your weapon drawer, and taking out the dagger you've harmed yourself with.

Holding it against your wrist, you took a deep breath.

"Y/n?"

You turned around, to see Bucky, his eyes still watering. But a tear dropped, when he saw the dagger against your wrist.

"Please don't," Bucky said, tears starting to run down his face. "Please, doll." He took a step forward, having you flinch backwards and hold the dagger closer against your wrist.

"No no no," Bucky said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Stop. Please."

Shuddering, you dropped the dagger, collapsing onto the ground in tears.

Bucky rushed to you, sliding your dagger away and picking you up into his arms.

You cried into his chest, and he lightly cried into your hair.

"I can't lose you, doll," He said, his voice cracking. "Please don't do this to me."

"I'm sorry," You sobbed. "It hurts too much."

"Talk to me doll," He said. "Tell me what's hurting you."

You blurted out everything that's been happening to you and why you've been hurting yourself. Bucky listened, while still crying. He traced circles on your bandaged arm, tears falling every time he looked at it.

"That doesn't give you a right to hurt yourself," Bucky said, making you let out a sob. "Please talk to me when these things happen. You mean so much to me. I can't see you doing this to yourself."

"I'm so sorry," You sobbed. "I wish I would've done something better."

"And I forgive you," Bucky said. "Sometimes pain blinds you. It hurts so much you can't see a way out of it. But once you think of other things, the door opens, and you're out of pain. I love you, Y/n."

You didn't answer. 

You were busy thinking. Bucky rubbed your back, kissing your head.

You looked up at him, kissing him lovingly. It turned into a sad, slow, make-out session. 

"And I love you, Bucky Barnes," You whispered, after awhile. "Always and forever."