Avengers Imagines

Bucky - Scars

A/N: Currently writing this in my air-conditioned hotel room cause it's hot and humid as balls outside. Also this one's pretty long. Idk why my brain decided to do this but here ya go :)

Trigger warning: self-harm scars. This gets heavier as it progresses and I'm sorry

Note: My PMs are always open if any of you guys need to talk ❤️
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Bucky flops on the space beside you as he sighs. His hair is damp with sweat and his face is slightly red.

"I'm never going out in that weather again," Bucky breathes out, moving a couple of inches away from you because it's apparently too hot for cuddles.

"Can I borrow your metal arm?"

"What?"

"Can I, like, hug it? I'm pretty sure it's cold," you ask shyly.

"I can assure you that it's actually burning my skin," he replies, chuckling as if it's not big deal. Truth be told, you've never actually seen how his flesh meets the metal arm, and now you're a little bit concerned about his skin.

"Does it hurt?" you ask, cringing slightly, as if feeling the pain yourself.

"I mean, you get used to it after a while, so it's all good," he says, flipping over so that he's facing you. "I won't ever get used to how beautiful the sunlight makes you look, though - hell, how beautiful you look in general. I feel like I'll just be amazed by it forever."

"Oh, shush," you reply, blushing. "Why do you have to be so smooth?"

"Dunno, it's probably a talent," he answers, smiling cheekily. "But really, doll. You're so beautiful." He caresses your cheek with his flesh hand ever so gently, as if afraid of hurting you.

If he's completely honest, he doesn't want to show you his scars, either from battle or from Hydra giving him the metal arm, or even him hurting himself. He associates them with murder and pain. He couldn't find a way to express it other than inflicting pain on his own self as if to repay for all the innocent lives he took.

He's scared that you'll leave. Behind all those sweet talk and coolness that he always seems to have, he knows that deep inside, he just wants you to stay with him for as long as possible. He hasn't felt what it's like to be cared for in about seventy years, and that makes him so scared of losing it again.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?" he asks, snapping out of his trance as he shakes his head slightly, wanting to erase the thought from his mind.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine, was just thinking," he replies, looking at you again as a small smile makes it's way up to his slightly sunburnt face.

You think that although sunburns hurt and are almost always annoying to Bucky, they make him have a permanent blushing face, which you find absolutely adorable. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose are tinted pink, and his eyes are crinkling from his smile. He's beautiful.

"Thinking about what?"

"What we're going to eat for dinner," he replies a little bit too quickly, and you sense that something is wrong.

You give him a look, which he immediately understands. He sighs, knowing that sometimes, you know him better than he does.