Stucky oneshots

Cut Too Deep

TW: self-harm, slight suicidal thoughts

One day I'll update with fluff and happiness-filled oneshots but that day is not today. In other words, I'm depressed, life sucks, and I don't feel like writing happy things 🙃

It started as a one-time way to punish himself for his failures and shortcomings. Then, it became a habit; every time he failed, messed up, said something stupid, or wasn't perfect, he kept count and used a blade to cut a line in his flesh for each.

Bucky didn't notice, nobody did. It was kind of hard when Steve did everything in his power to hide it and most of his wounds healed quickly without a scar. The other scars he blamed on missions or rough training days.

But one day, he made a lot of mistakes. He argued with Tony over something and ended up being wrong, was late to a meeting with Fury, forgot he promised to train with Wanda and apologized to her repeatedly when he remembered, and then accidentally hit her too hard while they were training and left a bruise, which he also apologized for over and over again even though she insisted from the beginning that she was absolutely fine. And that was just the morning. His afternoon got no better.

Finally, after dinner, which he slightly burned and received teasing from several of the Avengers for, he retired to his and Bucky's floor. Bucky was on the main floor still, arguing with Sam over what kind of tree they saw on their run. That meant Steve was alone on their floor.

He hurriedly went to their bathroom and retrieved his utility blade that was taped under the sink. Rolling up his sleeves, Steve decided he could cut his forearms tonight, wear the long sleeve shirt to bed, and they would likely be healed in the morning so Bucky wouldn't know.

He began recounting his mistakes and failures of the day, swiping the sharp metal across his skin for each one. He didn't stop to watch the blood reach the surface of his skin, he just kept moving swiftly as his failures clouded his mind.

Thoughts of hitting Wanda too hard were swarming his mind as he subconsciously applied more pressure to the blade he was pulling across his skin. That cut felt different than the others.

His vision focused on his arm and he realized he had cut too deep and veins had been severed. The blood began gushing all over, the floor beginning to collect red puddles.

Steve froze. What if he didn't stop the bleeding and just let himself die? That didn't sound too bad. As he was contemplating what to do, he heard the door open.

His head snapped towards the intruder, watching as Bucky's eyes widened. "Oh my God! Steve, what are you doing? Oh, baby, no."

Bucky grabbed a hand towel from the counter and wrapped it tight around Steve's arm, holding pressure to the deep cut.

Steve was lost in his mind, reality seeming far away and hazy. He knew Bucky was there but, at the same time, couldn't process that he was there or what he was doing. His vision started to cloud as the blood continued to rapidly leave his body.

Bucky caught Steve as he began swaying and gently lowered him to the ground where he held him in his lap. "Jarvis, get Banner up here." He called in a panicked voice as he looked at the red-stained towel that used to be white.

Steve was more disoriented now. All that he could process was that he felt weak and he wanted his Bucky. He let out a ragged breath, weakly calling for him. "Bucky..."

Bucky used his flesh hand to hold Steve's head against his shoulder, gently playing with his hair. "I'm right here, doll. You're going to be alright, okay? I just need you to stay awake. I'm here with you, I'm not going anywhere. I love you so much. You are strong and smart and caring and compassionate, you don't deserve this. I love you so, so much." He spoke softly in his ear as his metal hand put more pressure on the gaping wound.