Stucky smut +18 Oneshots

CHP 23. I messed up {SADNESS}

Self-harm warning! Stay safe guys. Love you all 💞

He was like a sinking ship.

Day by day he was getting worse. Mentally worse. He looked like the happiest man alive. He really did. He was so happy about everything. His smile was as bright as the sun. His eyes were blue like the ocean itself. He was the most amazing man there was, and he was absolutely beautiful. Totally stunning in anyone's eyes. He was cheerful and joyful. He was like a ray of sunshine.

But behind all of that, behind closed doors, he was suffering. Fucking dying inside. His guilt weighed him down badly. Every time he looked down at his hands it made him instantly cringe in pure disgust. He could almost see the blood from everyone he murdered on his hands, and no matter how many times he washed his hands or got in the shower, the blood never seemed to wash away.

The sight in the mirror was worrying. He looked like a ghost, his eyes not as bright as they usually are when he puts on a fake smile when around everyone and goes about his day.

His smile wasn't as bright, his eyes were dull, and his skin was pale and his arms and thighs were completely scattered in different size cuts and scars. He wasn't ashamed of them. Hell, he actually found peace in hurting himself when wanted to. It was calming to his mind. It was like a flood of calm and numbness would wash over him, making him feel at peace.

He didn't care if it was bad. He didn't care if he cut deep enough where he was basically bleeding out a bit too much. It was a dangerous habit of course. But he couldn't be happy. He wishes he could. But he can't. Ever since he became that deadly killer, he never forgave himself. Every murder. Every child and parent. Every baby and innocent person, killed by his own two hands, and he practically felt like he could pass out by the thought.

He felt so guilty, so ashamed and hurt, so beaten and exhausted with himself that he couldn't hardly deal with himself.

That's why he's standing in the shower, the warm water cascading down his pale skinned body and down the drain, sending goosebumps down his body. He stares at the shiny blade in his hand, glimmering in the dimly lit light of the bathroom. His breathing was calm, not one shake in it.

His eyes lingered on the blade, looking at it as if it was a piece of art. He stared at the sharp point of the blade, seeing the dried blood there from the previous time he had used it. He swallows thickly, his throat getting coated by his saliva and he takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and then breathing out slowly. He opens his eyes and then brings the blade to his thigh.

His thighs were horror. It was like a horror movie. His thighs were covered in cuts and scars that there was hardly any skin left to cut. He thought about cutting his chest and stomach before, but he thought deep down that he'll only do that when he has no skin left to cut.

He takes in another breath, this one filled with emotion.

Before you know it, he takes in a sharp breath and presses the blade down and quickly swipes, instantly feeling the sting. He gritted his teeth, almost dropping the blade. This was more painful than it usually was, and that right there sent his gut twisting, his mind instantly racing for the worst. He knew that this was bad, and he was scared to look.

He stared at the tile wall of the shower, his eyes wide as if he was one of the soldiers in the war with the thousand-yard stare. He was breathing heavily, as if he was almost hyperventilating, and the feeling of the warmth of his blood going down his thigh was scary. He was panicking in his head, but on the outside, he was just staring at the tile wall.

He scared what he would see if he looked down, but in the corner of his eye, he could see the blood flowing in the water. A tone of it. 'Fuck!' Bucky quickly thought. His eyes shot to his leg and he gasped instantly, slapping a hand over his mouth to silence his scream of pure panic. The cut was huge. And he was just realizing how bad it was hurting