Marvel Imagines

Bucky x Reader: Exhaustion

A/N: Hi! This is my first story in this book! Hope you enjoy! This is something that I wrote a while ago, but I've edited it a bit. Anyways, I appreciate you checking it out, and I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always more than welcome! So sorry this book is starting on a sad note, I promise that I'll have some more happy imagines!

Summary: Sometimes the world just becomes too much, but Bucky is always there to make things better.

Warnings: Depression implied, passing out, exhaustion, mental health, pretty long story if you're not into that 

It was around 12:00 am, and you were at yet another one of Tony's lavish and over the top parties. Being more of an introvert, you've never particularly enjoyed these overstimulating gatherings, especially on days like this. This is one of those days where the mental and physical exhaustion from built up struggles of your life and line of work hits you all at once. This happens quite often; the exhaustion piles up until it feels like everything has fallen apart, and then you break. And you always heal, but the cycle always repeats itself. 

You weren't sure if this was a normal feeling amongst the Avengers and they are just better at handling it, or if this is just a you problem. Whatever the norm is, you definitely feel inferior to your newfound family. Everyone else is strong, bold, and badass, and you don't feel like you are; you don't believe that you are worthy of being an Avenger. Superheroes aren't supposed to be sad, they aren't supposed to hurt, and they aren't supposed to be vulnerable. You, however, do feel those things, and sometimes it eats you alive. 

You are sitting at the bar on a tall stool, your back facing away from the crowded room. You are increasingly feeling the signs of exhaustion that you know all too well. The lights are becoming too bright, you are lightheaded and dizzy (you are certain that if you were to get up and walk right now that it would not end well), your head is pounding, the sounds around you are muffled, you feel exhausted and heavy, your mind is foggy and you can't comprehend what is going on around you, and you just feel so miserable. 

To you, it's stupid. You're at a party; you're supposed to be having fun and laughing and feeling carefree, but instead you are overwhelmed, tired, out of it, and exhausted. You want so badly to just leave the party, to go bask in the silence of your room and forget about your problems. If only you physically able to stand up without feeling like you're going to pass out. 

Instead, you clutch the crystal cup of ginger ale on the table and try to compose yourself. You can feel yourself starting to zone out, and your anxiety and exhaustion are increasing. Your head is tilted slightly downward, feeling too drained to even sit up straight. At some point, you prop up your elbows on the countertop and cover your face, wanting to both block out the world around you and hide your pain from the crowds of people inhabiting the room. 

After a couple minutes in your daze, you hear the clink of someone setting their cup on the countertop next to you, and feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your anxiety immediately spikes when you realize that someone saw you in such a vulnerable state. 

"Y/n?"

You sigh with relief when you hear his voice. Bucky. You'd recognize it anywhere. Just hearing his voice makes you want to break down and let it all out, but it's too painful to face, not here, not now. You stay silent, but Bucky can see right through you. He always can.

"Hey," you say quietly, having to force even that one distant word to exit your lips. You just don't have it in you to talk right now. 

"You doing okay?" Bucky asks, a layer of concern coating his tone.

Why does he always have to notice? You can feel the emotions millimeters from crashing down on you, to the point where you just can't say or do anything. Deep down, you both know that he knows exactly what's happening to you right now, and understands how you are feeling both physically and mentally.