Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader

The Mess We've Made - Bucky Barnes

"I just, I don't know what he's expecting me to do!"

Natasha rolled her eyes at you, finding your ranting more annoying than enjoyable.

"'(Y/N) do this, (Y/N) do that. (Y/N) finish this real quick. (Y/N) this needs to get done ASAP.' I clean the apartment, cook the food, I leave him the fuck alone a vast majority of the time even though he's my fucking boyfriend! I feel like I'm more of a mother than I am a significant other! Ahhhhhhh!"

You buried your face into Nat's pillow, trying to force your tears to stay away. You felt Nat's hand gently rub your back as she sighed heavily. "Ya know," she started. "This is the fourth time in the last two weeks you've come over to tell me about Barnes being a dick. And that's not even counting the tipsy phone calls either." Her silence grew for a few moments. "Maybe... maybe it really is time to think about separation (Y/N)." You had never shot up so fast in your life.

"No, I can't. It's been almost three years, I can't give up on h-"

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?" Nat interrupted. "You think you're giving up on him? Where the fuck has he been the last six months? Where (Y/N)? Not spending time with you or asking how your day has been. 'I'm giving up on him' Bull. Shit."

Nat inhaled deeply, calming herself before continuing. "Look (Y/N)," she placed a hand on your cheek, wiping away tears. "You need to focus on yourself. Bucky isn't being good to you. He's not mentally supportive and I'm not the only one who has noticed you haven't been yourself." Even with Nat's hand supporting your chin, hot tears still spilled out from your eyes.

After a few moments, you looked up to her and shook your head. Then, without another word, grabbed your belongings and left her apartment.

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Never had a door looked more intimidating. Wood chips screamed for you to turn back, that you wouldn't be able to handle doing this. In reality, you felt as if they were right. You had put in so much work to make them last, so much time to ensure he'd stay. But now? It seemed as though it wasn't enough.

A sudden slam of metal hitting tile flooring snapped you from your melancholy day dream. With a quick swift of your arm, the door was open and you had found yourself standing at the kitchen entrance, mouth agape with shock. Lo and behold, there was Bucky, cursing over a metal pan that looked like it was suppose to contain some sort of pasta (lasagna maybe?) and bits of salad that caked the floor.

"...Buck? You good there?" His jump caught you off guard, his sad eyes finding yours. Without so much as  a warning, he stood in front of you, arms wrapped around your waist and face snugly fit into the crook of your neck. You hesitated a moment, his warmth against your body a familiar yet shocking feeling, but you eventually placed a hand in his hair, rubbing it soothingly. "Hey there, it's alright, it's okay. It's just a little mess, nothing a bit of elbow grease and Clorox can't take care of, right?" Suddenly, you were up in the air and being placed atop the kitchen counter while Bucky's strong arms continued to hold you tightly.

"No," he began, "it's not alright." He looked up at you, ocean eyes watering sadly and lip quivering. "I have treated you so terribly and the worst part is I didn't even realize it until I got home the other night. '(Y/N), why isn't this done? Where's this, where's that.' I've been treating you like some... some housewife that isn't worth a damn. When I come home I neglect to even acknowledge you, I just go straight into the bedroom. But the other night..." He pauses, taking your hand and bringing it to his tear-stained lips. You could feel droplets land on your skin, dripping down the side of wrists and onto the floor.

"The other night, I heard you sobbing. God, you were so sad. I could hear you in the room while I stood outside the door, but I was such a coward (Y/N). I didn't know what was happening. I couldn't go in there, I didn't know what I could have done, so I stood there, hand hovering over the door knob. But then... then I heard you talking."

At this point, you were crying just as hard as he was. He looked up to you with reddened eyes and swollen lips. Your hand reached up to cup his face and he leaned into the touch, soft skin over his rough stubble. God you missed him. His touch, his voice, just him. You wanted to tell him to stop, to explain that you weren't worth his tears, but that was the old you. This time, you knew your worth and you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to make sure he understand that you weren't an object and that you needed to be loved and cared for and understood. So you nodded at him, giving the okay to continue. He gave a small smile and planted a small kiss against your palm.

"You were talking to... someone. I didn't catch who it was, but you were ranting about how frustrating I am to deal with and how stubborn I am. At first, I thought you were teasing because you've always told me that those are some of the reasons you love me. But, then I heard the sobbing and your gasped breath. You were saying you weren't sure if you could handle me anymore, that you could feel yourself going downhill mentally. And the idea that I was the cause of it? It, it destroyed me. It is destroying me. That's why you heard the door slam, because I was angry at myself for doing this to you." He turned his head towards the mess that painted your small kitchen. "I attempted to set up a nice little dinner to accompany my little speech but, as you can see, that didn't work out too well."

Neither of you said anything for awhile, his head rested against your thighs and your hand ran through his hair. That is, until you placed your palms against the side's of his face once more and looked at him and smiled softly. "Buck, I love you, okay? I just, I'm really tired right now. So, how about we clean up this mess and head to bed. We can talk about this tomorrow and figure things out, but for now, let's rest."

Bucky nodded, lifting himself off your lap and gravely looking at the mess on the floor. No words were shared while the would-be meal was mopped from the kitchen tile, cleaned from the dishes, and wiped from the counters. Afterwards, you both slipped into bed and, for the first time in six months, Bucky wrapped his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you both fell asleep.

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-i