Marvel Imagines - requests closed

Bucky Barnes- Body Paint

Bucky walked over to you slowly.  He sat down on the couch next to you.  You looked up from your phone and smiled at him.  He smiled weakly in return.

“What’s up?” you asked him, concerned.

“Do you think people notice?” he asked quietly, looking at his hands.

“Notice what?”

“This,” he replied, moving his metal arm.

“Probably…” you answered, unsure of what to say.

“Do you think it scares people away?” he asked more quietly.

“I don’t know… maybe sometimes…”

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Why?” you asked, slightly worried.

“No reason,” he croaked.  You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him close.

“It doesn’t sound like that,” you whisper.

He waits a moment before answering, “Sometimes, I hate it.  I feel like it’s a label.  It’s the only memorable part of me, but only because it’s the worst- if that makes any sense,” he confessed.  You thought for a moment.

“I don’t think it’s the worst part of you.  It makes you different and special,” you said, taking his hand.

“I don’t want to be this different though,” he whispered, tears shimmering in his eyes.

“I’ll be right back, alright?” you said, suddenly having an idea.  You ran upstairs and took off you shirt and changed into a sports bra.  You grabbed some body paint and went back downstairs. Bucky looked confused when he saw you, but didn’t ask what you were doing.

“Take off your shirt,” you told him.  He did, slowly, blushing a little. You examined his metal arm, then grabbed the body paint, dipped the brush in the silver paint, and began to paint on your arm.  Bucky seemed to understand what you were doing.

“Honey, that’s not necessary…” he began, but you shut him up.

After an hour, you had a fully painted arm, just like Bucky’s.  He smiled, looking at it.
“Now,” you said. “Let’s head out, so I can show this bad boy off.” you ran upstairs to grab your shirt, put it back on, and head out with Bucky for a walk.