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â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Summary - Bucky comes home from Madripoor and you know instantly something has changed.
Warning - Angst. Mention of cheating, breaking up.
Writers notes - no proof read or word count
He comes back from Madripoor like a ghost wearing Bucky Barnesâ face.
You hear him before you see himâthe careful way the door opens, the pause like heâs bracing for something. Usually when he comes home from a mission thereâs relief in him, a hunger. Heâd drop his bag, cross the room in three long strides, kiss you like the world might end if he didnât. Half the time you never even made it to the bedroom.
Tonight, he doesnât touch you at all.
âHey,â you say softly, already standing, already searching his face.
He gives you a smile that doesnât reach his eyes. âHey.â
You step closer. He smells like rain and smoke and something unfamiliar underneath. He lets you hug him, but his arms come around you a second too late, too loose. When you pull back, your hands linger on his chest out of habit.
He gently moves them away.
Thatâs when your stomach drops.
âBucky,â you say, frowning. âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothing,â he answers too quickly. Then he exhales and looks past you, toward the window. âJust tired.â
Youâve seen him tired. Youâve seen him wrecked, half-broken, stitched together by stubbornness alone. This isnât that. This is distance. This is guilt.
You sit together on the couch, the space between you loud and wrong. Normally his knee would be pressed to yours, his thumb tracing absent patterns on your hand. Instead, his hands are clasped tight like heâs holding himself together by force.
âYou didnât text much,â you say.
âCouldnât,â he murmurs. âMadripoorâs⌠complicated.â
That word again. You swallow. âDid something happen?â
His jaw tightens. For a long moment, he says nothing. Then, like heâs ripping off a bandage, he says, âSharonâs there.â
Your heart stutters. âSharon?â
He nods once. âSheâs been living there.â
The way he says itâcareful, weightedâtells you more than the words. Your chest feels tight, like thereâs not enough air in the room.
âAnd?â you ask, even though part of you doesnât want to hear the answer.
He finally looks at you then. His eyes are full of something raw and ashamed.
âIt was a mess,â he says quietly. âEverything there is.â
You shake your head, a bitter laugh slipping out before you can stop it. âBucky⌠did something happen between you two?â
Silence.
It stretches, heavy and cruel.
Your throat burns. âDid youââ You stop, swallow hard, then force the words out. âDid you fuck her?â
He doesnât answer.
He doesnât have to.
His shoulders sag just a fraction, like heâs been waiting for the question and doesnât have the strength to lie. His eyes drop to the floor. Thatâs it. Thatâs everything.
You feel it settle in your chest, sharp and final.
âOkay,â you whisper.
âI didnât mean for it toââ He scrubs a hand over his face, metal fingers catching the light. âI was alone and drunk. I wasnât thinking straight. Thatâs not an excuse, I know. I justââ
You stand, needing space before you break. âSo thatâs why you wonât touch me.â
He looks up, panic flashing across his face. âItâs not that I donât want you.â
âBut you donât feel like you deserve me,â you finish, voice trembling.
He nods once, miserable. âI feel like I already ruined everything.â
You wrap your arms around yourself. The room feels colder now. âI knew the second you walked in,â you say quietly. âYouâve never looked at me like I was something fragile you might shatter just by wanting.â
âI hate that I hurt you,â he says, voice rough. âYouâre the best thing in my life.â
You meet his eyes, tears finally spilling over. âThen why does it feel like Iâm the one paying for a mistake I didnât make?â
He has no answer. He just sits there, broken open, watching the distance grow between youâthis time, not because of a mission or a war, but because of a choice.
And for the first time since youâve known him, you donât reach for him to make it better.
He flinches when you say, âExplain it. All of it.â
Not because he doesnât want toâbut because he knows thereâs no version of this that doesnât hurt you.
You donât sit back down. You stay standing, arms crossed tight over your chest like youâre holding yourself together by force. âHow did it even happen?â you ask. âOne minute youâre on a mission and the nextâwhat? You just fall into bed with her?â
Bucky drags his hands down his face. âIt wasnât like that.â
âThen tell me how it was.â
He swallows. âMadripoor messes with your head. Everythingâs blurred thereâright and wrong, past and present. Sharon and I⌠we were working together. A lot. She knew the place. She knew parts of me I donât like remembering.â
You laugh, sharp and broken. âSo that makes it okay?â
âNo,â he says immediately. âNothing about it was okay.â
Your voice drops, trembling. âWas she better than me?â
That one finally makes him look up, eyes wide and pained. âNo. God, no. It wasnât about that.â
âThen what was it about?â you demand. âDid you want her?â
He hesitates. That hesitation is another cut. âI wanted to disappear,â he admits quietly. âI wanted to feel like the mess in my head matched the mess around me.â
You wipe at your face angrily. âDid you at least think about me?â
âYes,â he says, voice cracking. âThatâs the worst part. I thought about you the whole time.â
The room feels like itâs tilting. You ask the rest of the questions anyway, because not knowing feels worse than knowing.
âWere Sam and Zemo just⌠gone?â
âThey werenât there,â he answers.
âWere you drunk?â
âYesâ
Each answer lands like a stone in your chest.
When he finishes, thereâs nothing left in the air but the truth and the sound of your breathing coming apart.
Tears spill down your face before you can stop them. You laugh again, this time hysterical and soaked in pain. âYou know what I was doing?â you choke out. âI was here. I was feeding your fucking cat. I was sleeping on your side of the bed. I was telling myself youâd come home safe.â
Your voice breaks completely. âAnd you were off in Madripoor fucking her.â
He stands, instinctively reaching for you, then stopping himself like heâs afraid to contaminate you with his touch. âI hate myself for it,â he says hoarsely. âI would take it back if I could.â
You shake your head, tears falling freely now. âThatâs the problem, Bucky. You canât.â
And for the first time, the distance between you feels like something neither of you knows how to cross.
You shove at his chest before he can say another word.
âDonât,â you snap, hands shaking as they make contact. He stumbles back a step, more from shock than force, eyes wide. âYou donât get to look at me like that. Like youâre the one bleeding here.â
He opens his mouth. âIââ
âYouâre a fucking asshole,â you cut in, tears streaming freely now, voice cracking with fury. âSome fucking hero you are. Youâre just like every other guy who swears heâs different.â
âThatâs notââ
âIt is,â you say sharply. âYou promised me. You looked me in the eyes and promised me youâd never do anything like that, that you loved me and would never look at another woman the same was you look at me.â
He looks wrecked, like the words are physically tearing him apart, but you donât care anymore. Hurt has curdled into something hard and protective.
You turn away before he can reach for you again. You grab your bag from where itâs been sitting by the doorâhalf-packed from the last time you stayed over, half like you always knew you might need it.
âI was here,â you say, not even looking at him now. âHolding your life together while you were gone. And you threw us away like it was nothing.â
âIt wasnât nothing,â he says desperately.
You pause at the door, hand on the handle. âIt was everything to me.â
For a moment, it feels like the world holds its breath. Like if he says the right thing, maybe time will rewind.
He doesnât.
You open the door and step out, the apartmentâyour apartment with himâfalling silent behind you.