Fandom Oneshots

I'm A Monster *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Warnings: Angsty fluff 

It was late. Very late.

Your eyes flickered to the digital clock on your bedside table, the bright green fluorescent numbers telling you it was way past midnight. You hadn't seen Bucky since right after lunch, just before he went down to the gym to train. Your brow furrowed in worry as you threw the duvet off of your body, shivering as your feet touched the cold bedroom floor. Pulling your long sleeves over your hands, you crossed your arms over your chest before opening the door and slinking into the compound halls, the only sound that reached your ears being the echo of your footsteps and the soft pattering of rain on the almost completely glass walls.

Tony thought they were modern and classy, you thought they were creepy.

The shadows of the night flickered in your irises and your grip on yourself increased in strength as you thought, Something or someone could be hiding in the shadows of the brush out there, watching... listening to your every move... ready to-

You shook your head, clearing it of its disturbing thoughts.

There are heat sensors and motion detectors throughout the exterior of the compound, you reasoned, if anyone was out there, you'd all know in a heartbeat.

As slowly and as quietly as possible, you made your way to the training room. After you were only a couple feet from the door, you could hear the distinct sound of fists colliding with a punching bag. Concern swept through your mind as you opened the door, revealing a sweaty and exhausted Bucky going in on a bag.

He didn't even notice you approaching until you cleared your throat, standing a few arm lengths away from the clearly frustrated man.

He didn't stop punching as he regarded you, his eyes still staring down the bag intently. "Hey."

"Hey?" you replied in disbelief, "Bucky, it's nearly three in the morning. Why are you still in here?"

He let out a sharp breath from his nose as he squared his hips and delivered a strong left hook with his metal arm. The bag nearly collided with the ceiling. His eyes met yours for just a second before he turned back to the bag, "Clearing my head."

Your stance softened at his words, the short glimpse of his eyes that you got revealing the conflict that manifested in his mind.

You walked closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, causing him to pause in his brutalizing of the gym equipment and meet your gaze, his eyes wavering slightly as sweat ran down his brow.

"Well why don't you stop punching for a little while and talk to me about it."

His hands fell to his sides at your words and you noticed how he had failed to wrap his right hand before hitting the bags. The skin of his knuckles was cracked and coated in blood, bruises coloring the edges of his injuries. Your eyes widened in concern and you grabbed his hand with yours, careful to avoid touching his injuries as you dragged him toward one of the benches, "Nevermind. You don't get a choice here. We're sitting and you're going to tell me what's wrong while I patch you up."

He merely followed along quietly, too tired and upset to fight against your will. He sat on the bench and watched as you scurried around the room, looking for the first aid kit.

In all honestly, he didn't know what he did to deserve you. You were too good for him, in his opinion, and he always found himself wondering why you even bothered to stick around when there were so many better options; so many less broken options.

You let out a happy "Aha!" when you finally found the first aid kit which was hidden under a layer of clean hand towels in one of the many cabinet drawers.

Plopping down next to your boyfriend, you cracked open the kit and pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, gauze, a roll of bandages, and some medical tape. Carefully, you grabbed Bucky's hand in yours and began to apply the peroxide. He didn't even flinch.

With your brows furrowed in concentration, you let out a quiet, "So, what's been bothering you, Bear?"

He sucked in a deep breath at the name you insisted on calling him, a loving softness for you blending in with his self-loathing.

You always said that you loved how strong and fierce but soft and caring he was. Almost like a bear - like one big teddy bear. He didn't see it, but for all he cared you could call him ass cheeks and if it made you happy then he wouldn't mind.

He paused in his thoughts, clearing his head of the distraction as he thought of what to say. He had hoped that he'd never have to tell you about his insecurities, but you were too observant and too in tune with emotions for him to get away with keeping his problems to himself.

The exhaustion on your face was evident, and yet here you were, patching him up and worrying over his feelings instead of yourself. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he kept this from you as you coddled him, as you loved him. You deserved to know, and if you stopped loving him for what he was about to say, then he would find a way to live with it.

"(Y/N)... I'm a monster. I-I killed people. And every night when I close my eyes, I see the people I killed. I see them begging for me not to kill them, and I see their bodies after the job is done. It's horrible. It haunts me. Sleeping with you by my side made it better for a little while. But now... when I sleep... all I ever see is me hurting you."

You paused, his hand only half-way wrapped as you processed his words. And when you finally did, it hurt. Your Bucky. Your sweet, strong, amazing boyfriend thought he was a monster, and it hurt you to see how much he believed it. You could feel your heartstrings begin to tear as you stared at his hand, feeling the rough skin under your fingers, and you managed to suck in a shaky breath before saying, "Bucky... you are not a monster."

His voice cracked, "But-"

"No," you interrupted, "You are not a monster. Everything that happened while you were brainwashed... that was not you, that was Hydra." You gestured between the both of you, desperate to get through to him, "This right here, right now? This is you. The fact that you feel regret and remorse over what Hydra forced you to do is living proof that you're not a monster, Bucky."

You held his hands to your heart, lacing your fingers with his own, "My heart beats for you, baby. You make me feel safe in this mess of a world and I love you to bits. I know that my words alone won't be able to make you feel better in just a day but I really hope they help. I don't want you to hurt."

Bucky's grip on your hands tightened and he brought them to his wavering lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "I love you to the moon and back, doll. I'd be a lost man without you."

Holding back tears, you offered him a watery smile before releasing one hand from his and grabbing the medical supplies, bringing his hand down with your other to continue patching him up, "Let me finish this so that we can head on to bed. I bet you're exhausted."

His dark-rimmed eyes floated to meet yours and he offered a tired grin, "How'd you tell?"

"Just my genius intuition I guess," you joked, earning a deep, gruff laugh out of Bucky.

"You're such a smart ass," he teased, effectively over his emotional spell - for now.

You grinned as you taped up the last of his bandages, rubbing the material with your thumb gently as you replied cheekily, "A smart ass that you love."

He rolled his eyes before standing up and pulling you with him, heading out of the training room and toward your bedroom, "Doll, I wouldn't have it any other way."