Bucky Barnes Imagines

3am - Bucky x Reader

The violent sound of something smashing is the first thing that pulls me from my sleep, soon followed by loud sobbing. Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet, I can see that it's just past three in the morning. Early mornings aren't a rare occurrence for us – but that was usually down to the fact that we're Avengers. But this? This was something completely unexpected.

Bucky's side of the bed is cold as I pull myself up from underneath the covers.

It had been a long time since Bucky had come back from Wakanda and he had come back so much happier than before. His nightmares no longer kept him awake for days on end – now they happened every now and again. It had been weeks since he had last been awoken by a bad dream.

Shuffling across the carpeted bedroom floor, I can see light through the cracks of the bathroom door. I take steady breaths and count silently to five before tapping my knuckles gently against the wood of the door. The sobbing instantly stops.

"Buck?" All is quiet until I hear a small whimper, which is then followed by more heart-wrenching sobs. "Buck, I'm coming in okay?"

"No, please." His voice is desperate as I turn the doorknob and begin pushing the door open. He lunges towards the door to stop me, but I've already made my way through before he slams it shut.

Looking around, the bathroom is in an immense state of disarray. Bottles of shampoo and body wash are scattered across the floor; the stool that usually sits next to the bathtub is overturned and on the opposite side of the bathroom; and the mirror is smashed into large fragments that have fallen into the sink. The sink that is covered with dark red blood – the same blood that is smeared across the ceramic white tiles on the wall. Drops of blood on the linoleum flooring, the flooring where I find a pair of bloodied scissors and chunks of hair.

"Buck, please tell me you didn't?" I look across to him. A towel is draped across is head and face. The only facial feature visible to me, and only partially, is his mouth. I can see his lips trembling, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to stop himself. His hands are clenched together in his lap. His metal one covering his flesh hand. I can see bruising on his wrist, blood drying on his forearm. At least he'll heal. "Oh, James."

At the mention of his first name, he drops his head into his hands, the sobs starting again. His shoulders shake as he struggles to take air into his lungs. I move across towards him, slowly crouching down so that I meet his height from where he sits on the floor.

I gently take his hands, minding not to touch the knuckles of his right hand.

"Please tell me what's wrong." I kiss the knuckles of his metal hand, trying to make eye contact with him as I do so. "Please, James."

His breathing becomes less forced as he composes himself. He wipes at his eyes and then finally looks up to me.

Pain is what I see in his eyes as we make eye contact. Bloodshot and watery. I hold in my own sob as I look at him. Why did the world have to be so cruel?

"How?" I frown at the word but before I can question him, he continues. "How, can you-", he breathes deeply. "How, can you stand to be around someone like me?'

"Buck, I love y-."

"How?" The tone of his voice shocks me – there is so much pain and resentment in his words, not at me but at himself. "I don't get it. I don't get how you can be with someone like me? You let me share your life with you, after all I've done?"

"I-"

"I've killed, hell, I've murdered. That's a better word for it." His gaze softens as he sees the tears falling down my cheeks. "I just want to know how you can trust me after everything I've done. How you can sit there and tell me that you love me. Are you not scared of what I could do to you if the Soldier comes back?"

"No. I'm not scared James. I could never be scared of you." I take both of his hands between my own, gripping them tightly. "I trust you fully with my life. What happened with HYDRA, that wasn't you. That was them. Not even the Soldier, okay? You had no control, nothing that happened then was your fault. I promise you."

A crack of a smile appears on his lips as he squeezes both my hands a little bit tighter, that was the reassurance I needed to know that he was okay.

"I had to cut it off." Bucky drops his head down again, looking at his feet but his grip does not loosen.

"Show me." He shakes his head, like a child that has been scolded by their mother. "You can't keep that towel on your head forever Barnes."

"Promise you won't laugh?" I hold my little finger out to him.

"Pinkie promise." Laughing softly, he hooks his finger around mine and then proceeds to move both of his hands towards the towel covering his head. He closes his eyes and keeps them that way as he pushes the material away from his hair.

His short hair.

Instantly, I grab his cheeks and move his face to look at mine. His eyes are still closed as I examine the job he has made of his hair.

"You know, if you had asked, I would have helped."

Another laugh leaves his throat as he opens his eyes, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. "I mean, it looks good though. I can tidy it up a bit for you in you want?" He smiles widely this time; I smile in return.

"I'd love that doll." Leaning forwards, he kisses me on the lips, lingering for a few seconds, savouring the moment. "Thank you."