Please, Don’t Ever Become a Stranger
Idek what this is but enjoy Bucky Barnes Breaking your heart! 💔
Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend/Ex Girlfriend
Warning : implied intimacy but nothing graphic, angst, heartbreak, Bucky from TFAWS era, mention of miscarriage.
Writers note : This is my first time writing on Tumblr, please be nice! No proof read or word count just dabbling
You started noticing it in the quiet moments first.
The way Bucky would tense when you touched him for too long. How his kisses grew distracted, distant, like his mind was somewhere far away. When things started to get intimate, he’d pull back with a small frown, murmuring excuses.
“I’m just… too hot,” he’d say, shifting away.
“Can we stop? I’m tired, doll.”
At first, you believed him. You wanted to. But the pattern settled in like a bruise you couldn’t stop pressing.
He stopped coming to bed when you did. The lamp would still be on when you woke in the middle of the night, but he wouldn’t be there—only the indent where he should’ve been. Then came the late nights at Avengers Tower. One turned into two, two into most of the week.
“I’ll be home late,” he’d say, already reaching for his jacket.
You were 26, young enough to hope, old enough to know when someone was slipping through your fingers.
The apartment felt emptier even when he was there. Conversations became surface-level. He smiled less. And when you caught him looking at you, there was guilt in his eyes instead of warmth.
The night he came home early, you knew.
He stood in the doorway longer than usual, metal hand flexing like he was bracing himself. You didn’t ask how his day was. You didn’t ask why he looked like he was about to break.
“Hey,” you said softly.
“Hey,” he replied, voice rough.
He sat across from you, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. When he finally spoke, it felt like the air was being pulled from your lungs.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Your heart shattered quietly, because some part of you had already grieved this moment.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he rushed to say, eyes finally meeting yours. “I just… I don’t feel like myself. And you deserve someone who can give you all of them. Not whatever this is.”
You nodded, even as tears blurred your vision.
“I knew,” you whispered. “I felt you leaving.”
That seemed to hurt him the most.
“I love you,” he said, broken. “Just… not in the way you need.”
You let yourself cry after he left. Not because it was a surprise—but because loving him had been worth the pain, even knowing how it would end.
⸻
Bucky gave you space, just like he promised.
He stayed gone during the day, sent short, careful texts—Take your time. I won’t come by unless you want me to. The apartment felt borrowed now, like you were already a memory inside it.
You folded your clothes slowly, each piece carrying something with it. One of his old sweaters still smelled like his cologne and gun oil. You pressed it to your face before shoving it deep into the duffle bag, chest aching.
Alpine padded into the room quietly, white fur bright against the dimness. You dropped to your knees, burying your fingers into her soft coat as tears finally slipped free.
“I know,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I know.”
She purred softly, headbutting your chin like she was trying to keep you grounded. When you reached for the duffle bag again, she jumped right inside it, curling up like she belonged there.
You let out a small, watery laugh. “You can’t come with me, Al.”
She just blinked up at you, unbothered, tail flicking.
The door opened behind you.
You didn’t jump. You’d heard his footsteps a thousand times before. Still, your heart clenched when Bucky froze in the doorway, taking in the sight of you on the floor, eyes red, Alpine half-packed like an afterthought.
“I—I can come back later,” he said quickly.
“No,” you murmured. “It’s fine.”
He stepped inside carefully, like the apartment might collapse if he moved wrong. Alpine chirped at him from inside the bag, and his lips twitched despite himself.
“She always does that,” he said quietly.
You wiped at your face, standing up. The question had been sitting in your chest for days, heavy and sharp.
“Is there someone else?”
Bucky stilled.
“No,” he said immediately. Too fast. Then, softer, “No. There’s no one else.”
You nodded, but your throat burned. “Then why does it feel like you were already gone?”
He swallowed hard, metal hand curling into a fist. “Because I was pulling away before I had the guts to say it out loud.”
Silence stretched between you, thick with everything that never got fixed.
“I loved you,” you said. Not past tense. Not really.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “I know.”
The words slipped out before you could stop them, fragile and trembling.
“Was it because of the miscarriage?”
Bucky’s breath hitched so sharply it was almost a sound of pain. His head snapped up, blue eyes already glassy, disbelief and heartbreak crashing over his face all at once.
“No,” he said hoarsely, standing too fast, pacing once like a trapped animal. “God, no. Don’t—don’t you ever think that.”
You hugged your arms around yourself anyway. “You started pulling away after,” you whispered. “You wouldn’t touch me. You wouldn’t even look at me sometimes. I thought… maybe you blamed me. Or maybe I reminded you too much of it.”
That was when he broke.
Bucky crossed the room in two strides and dropped to his knees in front of you, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure he still had the right. Tears slipped free, tracking down his face unchecked.
“I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt,” he choked. “And I couldn’t fix it. Every time you cried, every time you went quiet, it felt like I was back in that chair, useless, failing the people I love. I started shutting down because that’s what I do when things get too big.”
You sank down too, forehead nearly touching his. Alpine hopped out of the bag and rubbed against his shoulder, confused by the grief filling the room.
“I lost it too,” you sobbed. “And then I felt like I was losing you right after.”
He finally reached out, resting his forehead against yours, metal hand gripping your sleeve like an anchor. “I never stopped loving you. I just didn’t know how to survive loving you and losing something with you at the same time.”
You both cried then—quiet, messy, the kind of crying that came from wounds too deep to stitch back together. When it finally slowed, the truth sat between you, heavy and unavoidable.
Love wasn’t always enough.
And knowing that didn’t make letting go hurt any less.
