Bucky Barnes x Reader Oneshots/Imagines - Unconditionally

What Was I Made For?

Summary:  Inspired by Billie Eilish's heartbreaking, "What Was I Made For?" featured in the new Barbie movie. 1 month ago, you were kidnapped on a dangerous mission in Bogota for 3 weeks. The experience leaves you questioning yourself and silently crying out for help to not feel so numb.

TW: Sad, mentions of violence and depression.

1 month ago

"Steve! She's over here!" Bucky shouts as he tugs at the handle of the metal door you were locked behind. You gain consciousness as he pounds on the metal calling your name. You had passed out from dehydration.

Steve and Bucky finally break the door's lock and move the heavy metal to reveal someone nearly unrecognizable. They could only tell it was you by your Y/H/C hair and the tiny mushroom tattoo on your ankle. Bucky's heart sinks as he sees you curled up in a ball in the corner, knees raised to your chest as you protect your head in anticipation of being beaten. Your body is covered in bruises and cuts, and you are so malnourished that they can see your bones. Steve's jaw clenches in anger at the people who did this to you looking around the room to see dried blood spatters and your tactical suit torn to pieces on the floor as if animals had ripped it apart. 

They're monsters

Bucky slowly makes his way to you, crouching down as if he were approaching a scared child.

"Y/N? Look at me, doll," he spoke softly. You slowly looked up at him, tears running down your bruised cheeks, feeling humiliated and weak. He silently scoops you into his arms, gently caressing the thin fabric of your grey t-shirt. You grasp the tough material of his suit tightly as he picks you up, carrying you to the aircraft.

You sit silently against the wall of the plane covered with a blanket as the team observes you with sad eyes. Bucky had told them not to crowd you, knowing exactly how you felt. You were grateful for that, just wanting to go home. Bucky sits next to you, reaching out to hold your hand when you flinch at the action, startled. He slows his hand movements and gently rests it on yours waiting for your reaction. You nod in approval and lean your head on his shoulder, falling asleep in safety for the first time in weeks.

Now

Numb. That's the only thing you feel. 

You had barely spoken a word since your rescue from HYDRA a month ago. You didn't respond when people spoke to you, only nodding your head or mumbling a simple yes or no. 

Bruce treated your injuries as best he could, but scars lingered all over your body. You had put on some weight, but were still bony and could barely eat. Wanda and Nat attempted to try to make things as normal as possible again but were met by your new zombie-like state. Bucky and Steve tried getting you to open up about the situation but only received silence. As far as they were concerned, Y/N died in that cell. This person was a stranger. 

I used to float, now I just fall down. I used to know but I'm not sure now. What I was made for? What was I made for?

Behind closed doors, tears streamed freely down your face as you gazed at your reflection in your bathroom mirror, attempting to drown your sobs with a scalding shower. You remove your shirt, looking at the scars on your body, puffy and deep. The bruises were long gone now, but you still see them. Black and blue, ugly and painful. 

You feel dirty and ashamed. You could still see the looks on those agents' faces as they tortured you, feeling their fists and hands on your skin still, shuddering. Your chest heaves as you scold yourself for not being strong enough to fight back. Why were you on the team if you couldn't even defend yourself? The team was right, you died in that cell. Now, you are left trying to figure out who you are. 

'Cause I, I... I don't know how to feel, but I wanna try. I don't know how to feel, but someday I might. Someday I might.

Words continue to escape you, the gunfire raging so loudly in your brain on a constant loop. You can't speak, you live in a stunned state. Walking around like a zombie, staying alive for the sake of your team, but just barely. Food doesn't taste the same, your clothes don't feel the same, and the world has been painted grey. You want so badly to talk about it, but you don't know how. You feel like an imposter in your own body, locked inside an invisible cell.

 When did it end? All the enjoyment

You sit at the dining table picking at a plate of food as Bucky reads in the seat across from you. Memories of your past conversations and flirty comments are gone and replaced with silence. The laughter you shared as he held your hand on the walk home from a date, or the days spent cuddling on the couch or the bed watching movies are now a distant memory. 

I'm sad again, don't tell my boyfriend.
It's not what he's made for. What was I made for?

You could reach out and touch him, or even say his name. You know he's not mad at you, he'd never be mad at you. But, you can't. The last thing you want to do is burden him. 

Bucky looks down at the book, his heart breaking every time he looks at you. He knows so well what you're going through and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. Why did it have to be you? He asks himself. He wants to hold you so badly and comfort you, breaking you out of this state. But, he doesn't know how. 

'Cause I, 'cause I, I don't know how to feel. But, I wanna try. I don't know how to feel, but someday I might. Someday I might.

He sets the book on the table suddenly, angrily. The slam startles you, causing you to look up. You make eye contact for the first time since he found you in that cell. His eyes soften, still laced with concern and worry. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, eyebags weighing heavily on his face. 

He gets up from the table, roughly pushing his chair out and making his way around the table to stand beside you as you follow his eyes. He crouches down as you stay silent, eyes becoming watery as he searches for words. There is a long pause while he contemplates. You stare at him praying he can find the words you can't.

"You are enough," he speaks softly. You attempt to look down at your lap, but he gently turns your chin back to his watery gaze. 

"And I am done letting you rot. Do you hear me? You. Will. Not. Rot." He says firmly as his voice breaks. 

Tears fill your eyes as you find your voice for the first time in weeks, "I'm so lost."

"You're not lost, sweetheart. You're right here where you belong, with me. And I will never give up on you," he whispers as tears roll down your cheeks. 

He sits down on the floor and opens his arms for you. Slowly, you lower your weak body into his lap, head instinctually resting on his chest. His arms envelop your frame completely, one hand nestling in your hair holding you closer. 

"I don't know what to do, Bucky. I feel so trapped and dirty! Why am I even here? They should have just ended it... I can't live like this anymore!" You sob into his chest, grabbing onto his navy blue t-shirt. Bucky listens as you pour out everything you've bottled up and hidden from him, losing tears of his own as he holds you. 

"I can't feel anything! I don't know who I am anymore and I'm terrified every time I look in the mirror," you continue through broken sobs. It's like Bucky can feel your heart breaking, tears flowing freely down his face now as he sniffles above you. 

"You're not done yet," he clears his throat. "This is not the end of your story. You will find yourself again and you will heal. I will help you heal."

"What if I can't?" you ask with a sniffle. 

"You can, doll. We'll do it together," he says, gently rocking you back and forth. "And if we fail a few times..."

"The sun will rise, and we will try again."

Think I forgot how to be happy
Something I'm not, but something I can be
Something I wait for
Something I'm made for

....

A/N 

Well, I'm sobbing. How are you guys? 

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