#hydra: we are going to turn this man into a terrifying killing machine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

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longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky is kidnapped by Hydra to reactivate the Winter Soldier.

word count: 2.924 words. it worth it, i promise!!!

warnings/tags: none. angst as hell mostly. but it has a happy ending.

author notes: i don't speak russian, but i haven't used google translate either, so no worries. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list NEW!!! here.

No. It couldn't be possible. It had to be part of a terrible nightmare. Bucky couldn't have been kidnapped by Hydra again.

You didn't know what to expect in the ship flying to the secret location of the organization. For Stark, it didn't take more than a couple of minutes to track the arm down, since Shuri put a small monitor on it when the soldier stayed in Wakanda. She never told it, wanting to use it in some kind of circumstance like the one you all were going through now. And you couldn't be more grateful, but it didn't help to make you feel better.

You were sitting close to the back hatch. Back rested against the metallic wall and legs curled to your chest. Nothing inside your head more than the hallucination of a pair of blue eyes staring at you. Blaming yourself was something you couldn't avoid. You should have been with him, by his side, protecting him as many times you promised him. But in fact, you just failed him. You failed his trust, his love. You let them take him. Only God knew which torture Hydra was putting him under, while you were there, lamenting.

You didn't even notice Steve's presence squatting next to you until he placed a hand on your shoulder. Then, you raised your face towards him. He was suffering too. In the end, Bucky was his long-life friend, his big brother. He lost him once and felt like he was going to lose him twice. Although this time was different. You were carrying the dispositive that could put to sleep back the winter soldier, but, at what cost?

“Buck got you now. Everything is gonn—”. He spoke in plural, referring to your last night's talk.

“How could you be so calm, Steve? How do you do it?” You whispered through your trembling lips, about to break in crying.

“Because he needs us focused, not distracted”.

He was wise. Captain America was wiser than anyone in that ship. He curled the left corner of his lips up, trying to make you feel good, trying to transmit you the encouragement you needed to not give up. And he did, more or less. You had to fight harder than ever. For Bucky, and only for Bucky. That's why you didn't hesitate on jumping out from the ship when it landed on the cold hard ground, as the freezing weather hit you on the face.

Following the plan, you ran quietly to the back door hidden under a huge layer of snow. Shaking part of it with the palm of your hand, you placed the device with technology from Wakanda on the locker. Not later than fifteen seconds, it deciphered the code to open the hatch. Once in position, the Avengers followed you downstairs. The passage was empty and silent. The only sound that broke it was a couple of rats running away from your presence. You all had studied the plans of the building, mostly underground, remembering exactly where you had to go.

The coast was clear, that was the reason why you all were so confused. You were expecting to find more than a dozen of agents, but when T'Challa enunciated through your earwigs that he only located two heat spots, you couldn't believe it. How only one man kidnapped the most fearless assassin up to now? Tortuous and bitter screams dragged you back to reality, causing your brain to react to make your legs run faster than ever in your whole damn life. You knew by heart that voice beneath all the pain.

Your skin bristled when your gaze landed on that chair of horrors, connected to an enormous power source. Bucky was sitting there against his want.

“... добросердечный… возвращение на родину… один…”

“STOP IT”. Steve yelled.

Huge mistake. You were aware of it when —yes— that man stopped reciting the Russian words to re-activate the Winter Soldier, but only enough time to push a red button near to him and close the heavy door in front of you. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. At the moment you glimpsed Steve’s shield sliding above the floor, straight to the inside of the room where Bucky was being tortured, you followed the same way. Never in your life, you were this fast. Like a lightning bolt, you snaked yourself under the small distance between the door and the ground before being closed. Now, it was you, that man and the soldier.

“You’re late…” He mocked with an awful American accent, under James crying out loud in pain. “грузовой ваг—”.

Your left hand moved quickly to unholster your gun and shoot him. One… Two… Three… Four bullets right to his head. The man fell dead before he couldn’t complete the command. You didn’t lose time, running to the controls to try to turn that machine off. But it was impossible. Even if you knew Tony could do it, there wasn’t signal inside those large and wide walls made of steel reinforced. You were in one of those abandoned soviet bunkers, that could save you from Armageddon. You were inhaling and exhaling so fast that your lungs never got really full, trying to focus, trying to shut every single noise around up. Trying to think of a plan b. But it was your heart who pushed you to act and not your brain. Grabbing Steve’s shield, you aimed for the energy source before tossing it like a damn frisbee.

That thing blew up, turning off any kind of light and dispositive around, as the sparks and the cables decorated your surroundings. Just like the fire that started to burn down a pile of boxes with different documents of Hydra. But that wasn't why you were impatient. Catching the shield when it came back to you, your legs moved immediately to Bucky, still stirring on his seat for a few seconds else. Then, he simply stopped shaking. Her eyes were wide opened. Reddened, in tears. His chest rose and fell violently. His heart was racing. And you could see the trauma taking control over his body in holy silence.

You didn't doubt removing the protection from his mouth along the restraints keeping him on the chair. Your fingers trembled like never before, not having any more time to lose. Probably, the Avengers would be trying to open the door when the emergency red lights illuminated the bunker, producing a loud alarm sound to indicate that something was going wrong inside the facilities.

“C'mon, Buck… C'mon, we have to leave”. You told him, trying to help him to stand up.

But as soon as your hand was about to land on his arm of vibranium, the five cold digits got closed around your throat. Soon, the lack of air for you was more than evident. He got up on his own, not needing you to do it. The ocean blue in his eyes turned into a dark storm. There wasn't any gesture on his face, more than his jaw clenching, pressing his teeth together. That wasn't Bucky —your Bucky—, but the unstable trained assassin Hydra turned him in. You could barely gulp saliva, gripping his metallic wrist with both of your hands to try to stop him from murdering you.

He couldn't. He couldn't kill you. His strength was suffocating you with no mercy, though.

For a moment, you felt too weak to fight, seeing everything around you getting blurred and darker. Blacking out. But there was something inside you, a sweet tone of voice calling your name. A male voice. Your eyelids rolled down bit by bit, wanting to concentrate on that honeyed sound being closer and closer.

“любить”.

The sore whisper left your lips. Love. The first time Bucky told you about love came to your mind. He told you about his family. George, Winnifred, Rebecca. He told you how much he desired to have a family of his own. To be loved.

“новый”.

Your almost dead fingers traced the form of his new arm made in Wakanda when you felt him lifting you from the floor, being suspended on air.

“сороковых годов”.

Trying to keep a firm tone of voice as much as the pressure let you, the Russian words were spat to the confused soldier, who wasn't understanding what you were doing. The forties changed his life. He was sent to war and, lately, captured by HYDRA. It was something he'd never forget, part of his DNA.

“заката”.

You didn't know what the hell your subconscious was doing either till that precise instant. You were reprogramming him. You were using his own memories to reset his wiped brain from them. Dusk. The first night he spent in Wakanda, Bucky was terrified. But you stayed with him. You comforted him by saying that everything was going to be okay, that his life would be different. That he was safe. That he was at home.

“лето”.

His last night of summer in that kingdom, Bucky took you to his favorite place between the woods, wanting to show you the fireflies fluttering in the middle of the gloom. He used to walk there whenever he woke up from a nightmare. Those small insects used to make him feel better for some reason he didn't comprehend. Until he saw their light reflecting on your amazed orbs. Bucky knew then he was in love with you. Besides his long-life friend, the only person who never judged him, who never ran away from him. The same person that now was dying under his fingers.

“шесть”

Six years took him to be Bucky, after his last war, after the last effort, after the last jump. He was a new man. You made him a new man. A good one. You guided him through the right way. You helped him to get used to the twenty-one century. You accompanied him to therapy and stayed in the waiting room every single session until he finished.

“заткнуться”.

The soldier ordered you to shut up, earning quite the opposite when you knew it was sorting some kind of effect on him, as soon as you felt some relief by the grip loosening around your throat and your tiptoes touching the ground. Little by little, you opened your eyes again, gluing them on the blue ones fixed on you.

“боец”.

He wasn't a super soldier, he was a fighter. He spent the last six years of his life fighting for it, fighting for ruling his existence, fighting for being pardoned for crimes he didn't want to commit, fighting for your love. Bucky furrowed swallowing, allowing you to place your feet on the floor.

“Бруклин”.

And when he demonstrated to the world that he was no longer the Winter Soldier, but James Bucky Barnes, he moved to his birthplace. Brooklyn. You and he rented an apartment together when you both learned that you couldn't live apart. That you were made for each other.

“Отец…”

A tear ran down your cheek, slowly moving your left hand to his free one. A shiver toured his backbone when he felt your warm touch holding his hand and, even if his cold fingers were still around your throat, the soldier bowed his head to follow the connection between the two of you. His flesh hand landed on your stomach, pressing it under yours, trying to transmit to him the news about your pregnancy status. Bucky was going to be a father. You were going to build a family as he always wished.

“Свобода”.

As the sob escaped your soul, his hand made of vibranium released your neck. Freedom was what he got after all those years.

Bucky was free.

His hold was the only thing that kept you on your feet, pining to the cold hard ground, as well as you trying to fill your lungs with the heavy air around you because of the dense smoke coming from the flames burning down that damn place. You watched Bucky picking the shield close to you, probably believing it could be easier to kill you with it than with his own hands. Your arms automatically wrapped your abdomen, as if you could protect your unborn child from that horror, crying James' name to remember you.

“James… James…”

You weren't able to stop whining, feeling a heavy sorrow under your chest, covering your vitals organs. The noisy sound from the bunker was suddenly turned into a constant beep, beep, beep that caused you to frown yet keeping your eyes closed. You called him once and again until a warm hand laced his fingers with you. Peace invaded you eventually, after a fond squeeze around your skin followed by a pair of rough lips pressed on your forehead. You let yourself go, not finding any strength inside your heart to continue awake.

The next time you opened your eyes, you needed a moment to adjust your gaze to the sunlight. Purring feeling more comfortable than before, you rolled on your stomach, sinking your nose into the large pillow. Bucky's scent was like a punch of reality. Your eyes snapped open as your pulse increased, starting to panic. Sitting up, your orbs moved quickly all around the room you recognized instantly. It was your dorm in the Compound, the one you used to share with your boyfriend —and the father of your child. It was empty. No trace of James anywhere. You tossed away the oxygen mask and the sheets covering your stiff anatomy, getting up from the bed. Another huge mistake.

Everything spun around you, feeling strong dizziness hitting your head, having to sit down for a second. But as soon as you felt recovered, you stood up again walking straight to the main door to step out. The hallway was deserted, hearing some voices coming from the meeting room. You followed them slowly, finding balance with your palm against the walls. Sam was the first one noticing your presence, coming faster to help you.

“James… James…” You mumbled, not really sure about when you started to sob again, whilst your muscles got tense with every syllable.

“He's okay, he's okay, take it easy, girl”. He tried to calm you as Steve reached you to bring you to the closest chair.

“We don't know what you did… but even if that man introduced the commands again… you turned it off”. Natasha spoke this time.

“I re— I repro— reprogramed him”.

The confusion was more than evident between the Avengers present in the room. But no one of them had the need to ask how. The spy taught you Russian in your free time, you weren't a fluent speaker, but it was enough to have a chat. Even so, you weren't going to say the words you used. You weren't going to make Bucky go through another wipe. If they worked, you'd make sure that he'd hear them when the occasion required it.

“I wan— wanna see him… please”. You cried covering your face with both hands, desolated after the hell of the situation you had to live.

“He's resting”. Steve informed you, squatting close and placing a hand on your right thigh to gently caress it. “And you should do the same. For your baby”.

“There's no way you're gonna stop me from seeing him”. You replied, raising your head and looking at him through your eyelids. Silently pleading.

He snorted, convinced that you wouldn't change your mind. Nodding two times with his head, he stood up and offered you a hand to hold it and help you to walk. Steve guided you through upstairs, following your pace step by step —he could have carried you onto his arms, but he wasn't sure if he could hurt you accidentally. You were too weak, barely breathing properly because of all the smoke you swollen inside the bunker. Although you started to feel somewhat erratic and excited as you were coming to Bucky's old dorm.

Steve opened the door for you, letting you walk inside before closing it behind your back. Your boyfriend was peacefully sleeping under the sheets. There were some scars on his face, already healed but yet seeming painful. The only explanation you found to be there was that Bucky used the shield to open the door and take you out of the bunker. A theory that made more sense when you noticed that he hadn't his prosthesis and his shoulder was covered by a thin black microfiber.

You headed to the bed, tucking in to wrap his warm and heavy body between your arms. At the moment he felt you, he embraced you as better as he could, not opening his eyes but shedding a tear. His lips started to tremble as you pecked them, previous to hiding his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry…” Bucky sobbed, causing your whole anatomy to shudder because of the sorrow in his voice.

“We're gonna be okay, my love… You, me, our baby… Our family”.

His crying increased after those two words, caressing his back slowly to comfort him somehow. You knew that this recovery would be hard and painful, being conscious of how close he had been to end with your life. He didn't want to do it, nobody could deny it. You were everything he had, everything he always wished for deep inside his soul and heart. And the acknowledgment of having a baby with you only provoked him to feel guiltier.

But as you said so, everything was going to be okay.

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binkysh0e · 3 years

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Dreamcatcher - Bucky Barnes

Masterlist

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 - 𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘗𝘛𝘚𝘋.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 1.3k

Every night without fail, you’d scream at the top of your lungs and writhe around in the sheets, begging for the nightmares to stop. Sometimes you’d wake up alone, body glistened in sweat while your heavy pants filled the room. Other times, you’d open your eyes to Bucky crouched next to your bed, coaxing you out of your restless slumber with a pitiful smile.

You never used to be like this, but Hydra fucked you up. Hydra fucked you both up, and that’s why you and Bucky grew so close. The two of you would drag each other out of nightmares, spill your deepest and darkest secrets because you knew the other would understand. There was no fear of judgment with Bucky. You had both done so much fucked up shit it would be hypocritical to judge each other.

At some point, your feelings for the ex assassin grew into something more than a friend and support system. It might have been the late night talks, or crawling into the other’s bed just to feel secure. Or maybe it was the way his hair tickled your neck when you hugged, or how his piercing blue eyes would connect with yours in reassurance. Either way, whatever it was made you fall for Bucky Barnes, dangerously fast.

“You failed, L/N. We don’t tolerate failures.” Pierce spat while a guard strapped you down to a chair. The straps tightened around your wrists as you struggled, but the restraint around your hips kept you firmly down. A terrified scream left your lips, and you stared up at the man with desperate eyes.

“Please - let me try again. I won’t fail - I’ll never fail again. Please!” You yelled frantically, tears staining your bruised cheeks. The man titled his head, a wicked smirk painting his face. He nodded towards the guard, and they shoved a rag between your parted lips.

A buzzing noise came from the device above you, and hysteria set in. You struggled, let out muffled screams, tugged at the restraints. But nothing worked, and the guard still lowered the machine onto your head.

A dark chuckle came from Pierce. “Oh, Miss L/N, I know you won’t fail again.”

His darkened irises met your frantic ones, and you let out one last blood-curdling scream. Begging through the rag to be let out, to have another chance at the miss-

“Sh, wake up. You’re safe.” Bucky whispered in a chant, his fingers running through your matted hair.

The sight of you like this made him murderous. He wanted to kill any Hydra agent that even thought about harming you. If he could take away your demons and add them onto his own, he would. To see you happy, he would do anything.

Falling in love with you was surprisingly easy, and by the time he realised that he had, it was too late to go back. The ex Hydra assassin convinced himself that he could never love or be loved, but then you came crashing into his life. You were always understanding about everything, from him not wanting to be touched to his moments of violent rage. So understanding, in fact, that the first time he cried, he wrapped his arms around you and sobbed on your shoulder without thinking. After that, he couldn’t get enough of your touch and attached himself to you as often as he could.

The unexpected touch from Bucky made your eyes shoot open, and out of instinct, your hand clenched around his throat. Rolling off the bed, you straddled his waist and applied more pressure. His hand reached out and caressed your cheek, turning your head so you’d look into his pleading eyes.

“Your name is Y/N L/N. You are in your room in the Avengers tower.” He choked out, letting out a relieved sigh as your grip loosened slightly. “We rescued you from Hydra two years and eight months ago. You are not on a mission. You are free and most importantly, you are safe, doll.”

As he spoke, your eyes widened, and guilt washed over your body. This wasn’t unusual. After all the brainwashing and torture, you found it hard to tell the distinguish reality from your nightmares. Sometimes you’d wake up shrieking, other times you’d wake up fighting.

Bucky’s heart dropped when your eyes glassed over, and he sat himself up to be closer to you. His hands lay on your waist, rubbing small circles under your ribs with his thumb. Neither of you noticed, nor cared, that you were still straddling his lap. All he cared about was getting rid of the shame that was close to consuming you.

“Don’t feel guilty, doll, it’s not your fault. It won’t even leave a mark.” He cooed, brushing strands of hair out of your face.

A tear slipped down your cheek, “I’m sorry, Buck.”

His hands cradled the back of your thighs, keeping you secure as he pushed the both of you up off the floor. Carefully, he set you down on the bed and tugged the blanket over your legs. In that moment, all he wanted to do was pull you into his chest and kiss away all your pain. But he couldn’t, so he shook his head and enclosed your hand in his instead.

Bucky knelt down, “Don’t apologise, it’s always okay.”

Planting a kiss to your knuckles, he rose to leave the room. But a small hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his movements.

“Stay.” You croaked out, “Please, stay Buck.”

A small smile ghosted on his lips, and he didn’t hesitate to climb in beside you and close his eyes. Usually, you would keep a considerable distance between you, but tonight that distance was too much. Cuddling into Bucky was a risk, you knew that. But it was a risk you needed to take, so for once, you ignored your brain and followed your heart.

When he felt a small body nestle into his chest, his eyes shot open in confusion and shock. He tensed at the foreign feeling before your scent hit his nostrils, and knowing it was you made his shoulders involuntarily relax.

Your breath fanned over his skin as you nuzzled into his neck, making his heart skip a beat. The pounding of his heart didn’t stop until your breaths slowed and body relaxed. When he was sure you were asleep, he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you.” He whispered, and the ease of saying the words out loud surprised him. But what surprised him more was you placing a small kiss on his neck and mumbling back to him.

“I love you too, Buck.”

You raised your groggy head to be greeted with his ocean blue eyes boring into yours, and you bit your lip nervously under his gaze. His thumb brushed over your lips, gently tugging the bottom one out of your teeth before giving you a soft smile. Slowly, he inched forward with his hand behind your head for support, and you impatiently waited for him to close the distance.

His lips teasingly brushed against yours, “Say it again.”

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You giggled, and he wasted no time in moulding his lips with yours. His hands tangled in your hair while you placed yours against his solid chest. He hooked his metal arm around your waist, pulling you as close to his body as was possible. There was only one thought going through both your minds; why hadn’t you admitted it sooner?

That night you fell asleep nuzzled into Bucky’s neck while he held you against his chest. This was the first time, in years, that both of you had slept soundly. No nightmares, no memories. Just a dreamless sleep with the ghost of a kiss from the love of your life lingering on your lips.

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nocek · 3 years

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Don't spare us the long rant! We want to hear your thoughts!

Oh you are going to regret this ;P

So here goes my loooooooong angry rant about Taskmaster and also the Black Widow movie in general.

Let's start with my point of comparison. Captain America the Winter Soldier was a good movie. It's still in my top 3 Marvel movies as I'm sure is for many people. And statistically speaking everybody likes Bucky. He is like the most beloved side character right after Loki. I guess.

Anyway. My point is that Taskmaster and Winter Soldier have bit for bit the exact same building blocks: hypercompetent antagonist that is a serious threat to our hero who just can't win with in one on one combat. But then plot twist: our antagonist was just a victim and puppet without free will in hands of actual villain who is bland bureaucrat.

So why did Winter Soldier worked really really well and Taskmaster was just ehh.. ok?

Well the short answer is that catws was a much tighter movie that had clearer goal (and also that goal/theme was singular: good things get corrupted with time and sometimes you get to start over) compared to black widow which had to jump through too many hoops and still somehow managed it but it wasn't as graceful as it would be if they (as in executives) resigned from one or two hoops and flips and explosions.

And I'm omitting a BIG disadvantage of making a prequel movie about a character that they killed off in shitty way. Though that created one of extra hoops for them to jump through: quickly build up Yelena as a character.

And character build they did. Because srsly Yelena is awesome and I love her. BUT. That came at a price.

Lets compare to catws. The new character there is Sam (and kiiiiiiiinda also Natasha a bit but that's a topic for a different rant) who is nowhere near as well build as Yelena. At the beginning. Because he had time to be fleshed out and naturally grow in few different movies and then we got a deep dive in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

But Marvel can't give Yelena few movies because she will appear in Hawkguy an Hawkeye series and also Marvel is generally dividing their assets into: outer spaaaace, down to earth heros and magic stuff (aliens, androids and wizards ;P). But also they can only create so many things in a year.

So yeah. Yelena offtopic can be summarized that I love that we have her as we have her but it came at a cost of air time of the movie.

So comparing the movies again:

Catws had the theme of good things being corrupted with time. And the theme was underlined 3 times through Peggy, Bucky and then Shield/Hydra. Which are interconnected and also make nice scale from inner conflict of the main character to the outer conflict of the movie.

In Black Widow there is the topic of the past evil that never went away and is still taking away free will from people. And again we have it shown through 3 outlets: Yelena, Taskmaster and Black Widows. But there is also whole family subplot attached to Yelena and there is Red Room attached to Black Widows. So as you can see things are getting crowded. Which in turn make the theme a bit blurry.

I mean, sure, the Red Room should be the Shield equivalent. Even it could take smaller space because good Shield turns out to be evil Hydra is generally more time consuming to explain than Red Room bad. But still combining Red Room and Black Widows make things a bit crowded.

(There is a reason why the surprise subplot of there is more Winter Soldiers was in separate movie and was kinda handwaved and cut to minimum. But they couldn't do that here).

But it's time to stop my ranting about whole Black Widow movie and focus on comparing Taskmaster and Winter Soldier.

Because to be honest both are bare bones of character and more of an carte blanche in the movie. Both have barely any screen time yet there are colossal difference which stems out of:

first introduction: as I mentioned they are hypercompetent and unstoppable threat that you can't win with, you can only hope to run away (both done equally well)

programmable killing machine:

For Taskmaster we just get a scene with her watching other heroes fighting at the screen. For the sake of building up the mystery of character we think that "he" is just watching. Maybe learning or more likely just being creepy. The information about the chip and literal programming is given to us much later in the movie which makes this scene lose the power. idk how it will work on rewatch? Maybe better? Hopefully. right now there is too many new movies in cinemas to go for a rewatch and disney+ still isn't available here -.-

For Bucky we have literal torture scene. You just can't be more blunt than that. It also hammered the next point in.

there is human behind the mask:

Winter Soldier is introduced with full face mask which he gradually loses and then we have the big reveal of not only: that's a human but also that's a human our main hero cares about deeply.

With Taskmaster they fucked up it for chap plot twist. We are learning quite late that oh snap that's Antonia (that we don't really care about) and our main hero kinda feels guilty about her.

I think the big difference is what kind of character Steve and Nat are and also the way they reveal this secret. Steve actively recognizes Bucky by himself and is very openly shocked. Nat is passively told and shown that hey, this is Antonia. And there is no time in the movie for Nat (and for us) to be shocked because that's the 3rd act and we need time for explosions and stuff.

Besides, the problem is that all the big plot twist reveals are boring on rewatch (stil big props for Pacific Rim and giving us the monster reveal in like second minute of the movie, I will never not appreciate that).

Also on related shitty note. We the audience. Bucky is handsome and vulnerable and we can drool all over him (and oh man, we the fandom did a fair share of drooling). Antonia is disfigured and not sexualized in any way. Which I'm actually grateful for but there is no pretending that doesn't make a hell lot of difference. But that's a whole different, ugly and big topic I'm not remotely qualified to write about. I'm just angry ranting here.

they don't have free will:

For Winter Soldier we have amnesia + torture tropes which to be honest have been done over and over again and it shouldn't have worked as well as it worked. Bit it did. In context of Black Widow movie it worked because it was just one guy that actively broke through brainwashing with active help of the hero.

In Black Widow there is a lot of characters that are pasively "woken up" out of mind control over and over again by active protagonist. Unfortunately the repetition kinda cheapens it. Especially in comparison to main gut punch right in the feels scene in the other movie. Which is why it's not fair to compare the two.

So lets talk about lack of free will aspect itself. To be honest the mind control aspect in Black Widow was done really great from story perspective. Evil scientists perfected it to the point it being (bit handwavey but) completely impersonal but also completely dehumanizing to the subject. So I'm buying that it can be completely switched off in equally efficient and impersonal way. Even the way they explained it with Alexei the pig was great and terrifying... to a point. Because then kicked the main problem with this movie. Clearly some execs came and saw it and went whoa... that's too dark for pg13 blockbuster. Let's put some cheap jokes here. And it happens over and over again in this movie :S

humanizing flashback scene that ties them to main hero:

For Bucky, sure we had Captain America First Avenger but a movie needs to stand on it's own legs. That's why we have the flashback scene which shows us that Bucky cared about Steve. Leaving it at the narration in Smithsonian of "best friends since childhood" would be just telling us. And we needed to be shown and we needed a space for the "till the end of line" so it could come back and stab us right in the feels.

Also because we are ignoring previous movie Russos cleverly made us care about Winter Soldier because Steve cares about Winter Soldier. And we already know and like Steve so building up our main character gives us more mileage out of new bare bones character (because let's be honest, Winter Soldier is just that). Two birds one stone thing.

In Black Widow there is no such thing which IMHO is the main reason Taskmaster doesn't work. We just get information about cardboard cutout: insert cute little girl here (only told, not even shown actual cardboard) and all of the emotional connection to Natasha is: I know that my boss that I hate has a daughter, she got in the crossfire. Which means nobody cares.

All it would take is adding a short flashback scene. idk Dreykov is an asshole and doesn't care about Antonia but she is she cutest and most adorable little girl. She treats the Black Widows as older sisters. Hell if you want to make it more horrorish copy of the idea of Thor wanting to be a Valkyrie when he grows up or T'challa wanting to be a Dora Milaje. Little Antonia wants to be Black Widow when she grows up because they are badass and they are nice to her (and are also slightly confused by her) because she is nice to them and is only person that treats them as humans. Hell we could have short interaction between her and Nat. Just a smile between them would be enough.

You could get a lot of character buildup mileage out of such a short scene.

But it couldn't happen partially because the movie didn't have time for that but we didn't get that mostly because it would show us instead of telling that Nat killed a cute little innocent girl for her own personal gain. (well she thought she was destroying Red Room but mostly wanted to get away - vide she didn't check on Yelena or other widows. But I wouldn't hold that against her. It was put your oxygen mask first kind of situation. But still it would make her look bad)

Besides, that would take guts to actually show.

And technically they could have afforded to have that guts. That was last movie with Nat anyway. It would actually make this plotline about her feeling guilty about Dreykov's daughter and red in her ledger work. But well... It was last movie so they wanted to leave us with the most goodest and bleeding hartest and heartwarming mary sue version of Nat with just telling us without showing hey, she got dark past.

On the other hand if we had the rumored Endgame plotline of Nat running an orphanage. Damn that would tie to this plotline so well. We could tie the loose widows also. Dam we were robbed here I tell ya >.<

Ok I'm overdoing offtopic about Nat. Sorry

design

So yeah. Design wise Winter Soldier is like great. For Taskmaster, she sure looks cool but also kinda generic? If in 10 years you'd show me her and say it's antagonist from GI Joe or something I'll believe you :S (not touching the debate that in comics something something because unfortunately I don't know Taskmaster from comics. Although I hear that few recent ones were quite good so I'll check them out sooner or later)

snapping out of mind control

I mentioned before. It would be unfair and there is no point comparing main emotional scene of the movie versus means to an end that were repeated several times through a movie.

Natasha freeing Antonia even if she thought that Antonia will kill her because that would fair was great. What I'm annoyed is a cheap fakeout that went with that. It was just after the bombastic finale with explosions and all the cgi shit. Even without looking at the movie runtime it was obvious there will be no extra fight scene.

In catws it worked because the cgi pew pew extravaganza was a background noise and was part of a continuous fight. In BW helicarriers fell already, there was a second of dust settling and then Nat throws away the shield (uses that capsule). Tension just fell from highest place in a movie (quite literally lol), trying to rise it again for such a short moment just doesn't work.

But that's the general problem with Marvel movies. Bombastic CGI fest as grand finale that probably is "outsourced" and then actual director comes back and needs to end movie super quickly.

disappearing act at the end

So in catws there is mystery of what will Bucky do. We are given some hope since he dragged Steve out of river and visited the museum but thats all. I mean there is this annoying Marvel thing of skipping over the interesting ending of last movie and starting with next plot point. We were hoping for the grand roadtrip/hunt for Bucky but nope. We must run ahead with all the plotlines (same way I'm sure that the Spiderman is Peter Parker and he killed a guy thing will be already dealt with in the beginning of the next movie -.-) But that's bonus mini rant.

In BW they needed to wrap up to many plot lines too quickly so Antonia wakes up and that's all. We don't get a suggestion what she may do. The problem of the chip she still has installed is omitted. There is nothing. She just fucks off to lalaland with other Black Widows the end. Because we needed ending for Nat's actual family which was ok but also kinda rushed.

As I mentioned waaaay before (god, this rant is pretty long) too many hoops to jump through.

Which really sucks because if they added that one flashback scene just for Antonia and spared few more minutes for the overall ending it would work so much more better.

And I even know where they could have saved few minutes (besides the explosions thingies). The supply guy. One extra character in a movie with too many characters. In catws the supply problem (with wings) was solved with nbd shrug. If you wanted to show that Nat has her own web of contacts it should be more than one guy. IDK in Budapest there could be 10 second scene with neighbor saying hi nice to see you again we reinforced the walls after last time. In Norway we could see her visiting some special secret supply stash run by some rando before getting to the mobile home.

But oh she was on the run so that would be too many people. Then cut the people entirely. The shitty helicopter can be worked around with joke that I'm not on speaking terms with Stark rn and that's the best we can have on short notice.

Eh.. side rant again. Sorry.

So to wrap it up. I actually really would love to see what will happen with the loose Black Widows and Antonia because here they were really underdeveloped. And while widows were more of a group hero and we have Yelena as a representative so in a way it balances out but Taskmaster needed so little extra care to make her character so much better and I'm a tiiiiiiny bit salty about it.

#text post #long post #very long rant #black widow #black widow spoilers #black widow movie #black widow 2021 #taskmaster #antonia dreykov #i kinda doubt we will see her again #but one can hope #if anyone actually read through all of this congratz!#and thank you #let me hug you #(and I'm sorry it's so long)

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wintervvidow · 3 years

Text

apricity pt. five

apricity- the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 3,556

A/N: yes, I did purposely reuse the flashback sequence lol enjoy! feedback is welcome! 💕

MASTERLIST

The air held a palpable tension, red lights reflecting off of the walls and casting red-hued shadows. Florence’s footfalls were quiet, stepping with precision and purpose. Steve and Sam stalked behind her, their eyes ghosting over the path of bodies the Winter Soldier left in their path.

Florence was trained for this: the moments of chaos. She knew how to disappear, how to take out any threat without a trace. She knew the art of managing her emotions, how to go cold like a switch. Yet all of the training that was beaten into her flew out of the window the second the lights went out. Bucky was her number one priority. She was scared, terrified of what awaited her, her heart hammering in her chest as she ran down the dimly lit halls.

The self-proclaimed therapist laid on the floor in front of Florence, anger swimming in her eyes at the sight of him. She grabbed him by his collar, hauling him against the wall with force, face inches away from his, a snarl on her lips, “What do you want?”

“To see an empire fall.”

Florence shoved the man against the wall harder, hands tightening in the fabric of his shirt, opening her mouth to speak again. Movement behind her made her turn, seeing Bucky throw Sam down the hall. Steve threw a punch to his ribcage, the soldier barely feeling it and throwing his own. As Bucky stalked him like a wolf hunting its prey, Steve jerked backward, a dangerous look in his eyes. Florence looked down the hall at Bucky and Steve, watching as Bucky threw Steve down an open elevator shaft. She bolted to Sam, her fingers meeting his neck, making sure he was alive before she took off running up the stairs after Bucky.

She found him in the open seating area of the building, fighting off Sharon’s flurry of attacks. He took the blonde down easily, tossing her head over heels into a table, splintering off. Florence threw a punch to his abdomen, Bucky doubling over before moving to tackle her. She used their height difference as an advantage, moving behind his outstretched arm and flipping over him onto his shoulders, thighs around his neck. Her elbow struck his head repeatedly as he tried to throw her off to no avail. Bucky stumbled forward, his hands grasping her waist and throwing her onto a nearby table.

Bucky's metal hand found Florence's throat in an instant. The Winter Soldier showed no mercy, squeezing his hand tighter and tighter. Florence felt her face heat up, her blood vessels threatening to burst if the soldier continued to apply pressure. She writhed in his grasp looking up at him with pleading eyes, black dots dancing across her field of vision. Tears stung her eyes, her throat burning from the crushing weight of his hand, feeling her windpipe constrict as she rasped out the only words she could muster up, "You could at least recognize me."

Florence wanted him to look at her. She wanted him to look at her as Bucky, but also as the Winter Soldier. The soldier was looking at her, her legs wrapping around his neck, not giving him any way to not look at her, but he wasn't seeing her. Not in the way Florence needed, otherwise he was going to kill her.

In the clutches of HYDRA, Florence was the only one that could calm the soldier down when he would have a panic attack or had an episode of anger brought on by the confusion, brainwashing, and torture of their captures. Even in the moments when Bucky was the farthest thing from himself and became the dark machine HYDRA created, he immediately softened at Florence. He would stop whatever he was doing, whether it be loosening his grasp around an agent's throat or dropping his aimed weapon, his eyes would soften and he would become putty, only made to be molded by Florence. Even in the moments where Bucky’s attack was set on her, metal and flesh hands clutched around her throat, a flash of recognition would always wash over his face and immediately let go, falling to his knees at her feet in forgiveness.

HYDRA caught on very quickly about the Soldier's fondness of the redhead and used that to their advantage; always looking for a way to control. If only they had learned of the relationship the two assassins had before the war and before Florence slipped away into the winter night.

Bucky wasn't seeing what he was really doing to her. He was causing her the most imaginable pain, and in turn, hurting himself. She needed him to see her, really truly see her. She needed him to see her as Bucky, the love of her life and not the machine he was made out to be, otherwise, this was all for nothing.

The Soldier's hand left Florence’s throat, being thrown off her by the Black Panther. Florence gulped in air, her throat burning in pain, her windpipe bruised from the weight of Bucky’s grasp. She laid on the table she had been thrown on by Bucky, taking a minute to collect herself and her breath, gasping for air as tears unwillingly fell down her face and into her hairline. Years of emotions threatened to spill, the dam threatening to burst completely. She couldn't do this.

Florence could barely handle the constant up and down of adrenaline anymore, every day was a gamble whether something was going to go wrong or not. Lately, every day had been hell, each passing minute worse than the last. She needed a minute to breathe.

By the time Florence had made it to her feet without falling over, both the soldier and the king had disappeared up the staircase. Florence bounded up the stairs two at a time, a loud commotion outside accelerating her heart rate. Her hand threw the door open, bouncing back against its hinges. She rushes out of the building, eyes locking on Steve who had an iron grip on the helicopter Bucky was attempting to take flight in from the helipad.

Before she could move, Bucky slams the chopper into the helipad, Steve flipping and dodging the attack narrowly. Florence ran towards the scene, hand reaching for Steve’s bicep to help him up as Bucky’s metal hand flew through the windshield and grabbed Steve’s throat. The girl pries at Bucky’s hand around Steve’s throat to no avail, the helicopter tipping further and further over the edge towards the water below. Feet skid against the concrete as Florence and Steve were continuing to be pulled. Bucky’s grip remained on Steve, Florence trying her best to do anything to get him to let go, her hand going from the metal to reaching into the glass towards the brunette, flesh hand finding her outstretched one easily.

Florence squeezed the flesh tightly in her hand as they continued their slow descent towards the edge, her voice betraying her by cracking, “Bucky, please. Let go, we’re trying to help.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears as she was yanked forward by Bucky, her body colliding with Steve as the helicopter finally tipped over. The trio dived into the icy water at the same time, Florence’s vision blurring and fading at the impact.

The redhead was vaguely aware of the arm around her waist and the warm body next to her. Steve secured both Florence and Bucky in his grasp, pulling them out of the frigid water. Her legs kicked helplessly in the water, failing to ease Steve’s rescue swim. Once they made it to dry land, Florence coughed up the water in her lungs, eyes trained on Bucky’s unconscious body on the ground. Neither of the two friends spoke, too preoccupied with moving Bucky to a secure location.

Along with Sam, Steve and Florence secured Bucky in an abandoned warehouse, metal arm braced between heavy machinery. The redhead’s eyes never strayed away from Bucky’s unconscious form for long, wanting to make sure he was okay. Bucky groaned as he came too, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the old building. Sam called for Steve behind Florence, wanting to have a second super soldier in case Bucky remained the Winter Soldier.

Bucky peered at his arm between the vice and then settled his gaze on Florence who stood mere feet away in front of him, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Steve jogged to where the others were, eyes darting to the man in the chair, eyebrows furrowed.

Bucky groaned as he sat up further, “Steve.”

“Which Bucky am I talking to?”

Florence whipped her head to the blonde standing next to her, hand coming up and swatting him on the shoulder, “Steve!”

Bucky made no reaction, instead, he gazed vacantly ahead before he spoke again, “Your mom’s name was Sarah. You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” Bucky chuckled fondly at the newfound memory.

Steve smiled softly, his lips barely turning up, “You can’t read that in a museum.”

Bucky looked from the ground to Florence, eyes softening as he took her concerned features in, “Your mom was Anya, dad was Viktor. We used to have dinner every Sunday. And you were my best girl.”

Her face broke out in a pained smile. If Steve hadn't been standing next to her, Florence would have been on the ground. Waves of memories washed over her and threatened to pull her in, each one more grueling than the last; happiness, dances in the moonlight at 2 a.m.-, their bare feet barely gliding across the kitchen floor. All throughout time, he called her his best girl. Then there were the darker ones, them huddled together on the chilled floor of a HYDRA cell, using each other for warmth as they whispered memories of their past to one another. Always his best girl.

The memories were fleeting, Sam scoffing behind her, “Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Florence turned her head curtly, glaring at Sam. He didn’t know.

The smile fell, Bucky grimacing, “What did I do?”

“Enough.” Florence’s voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke, she was still drowning in the past, fighting for air before the current took her under, dragging her by her ankle.

“Oh, God,” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, greasy hair hanging around his face and shielding his eyes, “I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

Steve spoke, “Who was he?”

Bucky shook his head, “I don’t know.”

Steve continued to pile on the hurt, “People are dead. The bombing, the setup, the doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’.” It was Steve’s turn to be glared at by Florence, her ferocity to protect Bucky knew no bounds, even if Bucky deserved whatever it was Florence was trying to shield him from.

Bucky took a moment to think, his words tumbling out before he spoke clearly, “He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I- we were kept.” Florence’s heart dropped at Bucky’s correction from singular to plural. Siberia. No fond memories were made in that place, Florence shuttered at the thought of remembering being kept there with Bucky. She listened closely as Bucky further explained, “He wanted to know exactly where.”

Steve wasted no time to ask questions, his invisible clock was ticking, “Why would he need to know that?”

Bucky met Steve’s gaze, “Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.”

The December air was cold as it blew through Florence’s hair, her arms circling Bucky’s waist as they rode down the dark road on Bucky’s motorcycle. The soldier steered with one arm, free hand coming down to rub circles on the redhead’s calf as they pulled behind a cluster of trees, hiding them from onlookers as they waited. The pair of assassins were unthawed and reset only hours ago, immediately given their latest mission.

Florence remembered the screaming. Without fail, HYDRA always made her watch Bucky be reprogrammed, his screams echoed in her brain even days after it would happen. That night was no different, even the cold air from the motorcycle speeding down the road did nothing to numb the pain she felt.

A car came into view, red tail lights illuminating the air around them. Bucky flipped the bike’s headlight on and pulled onto the road again. The soldier revved the bike, catching up to the side of the vehicle as Florence sunk her butterfly knife into the tire, causing the car to swerve off the road and crash into a building.

Florence’s choice of close contact weapon had always been a butterfly knife; Bucky had taught her for hours on end in the Red Room how to use it. There had been a few training mishaps, an accidental slice to Bucky’s rib cage that sent Florence into a fit of fear, her past nursing skills coming to light, her fingers working quickly to bandage the wound all while Bucky merely peered down at her nervous hands with a smile. That had been the first moment the Winter Soldier and the Winter Widow were not the machines they were training to be in the Red Room, they were Bucky and Florence. They just didn’t know it at the time.

Bucky parked the bike ahead of the crash, Florence stepping off the bike, Bucky behind her, and approaching the car. She flipped open the trunk to reveal a large silver briefcase, opening it to see five bags of blue liquid; exactly what they were looking for.

Bucky briefly explained the use of the liquid, HYDRA used the serum to experiment and create more super-soldiers; better ones. Bucky’s handler and head of the Winter Soldier Program, Karpov, made sure of it.

Steve stood with his arms crossed over his chest, “Who were they?”

“Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum.”

Sam leaned against a beam, looking to Bucky, “They all turn out like you?”

Bucky lifted his head, eyes hollow, “Worse.”

Steve spoke, “The doctor, could he control them?”

“Enough.” Bucky’s head fell.

Florence took a small step forward, lessening the gap slightly between herself and Bucky, “He said he wanted to see an empire fall.”’

Bucky lifted his head again, “With these guys, he could do it. They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night, you’d never see them coming.”

Sam steps up to Steve, nodding at Florence to join before he began speaking, “This would have been a lot easier a week ago.”

“If we call Tony-”

Florence cut Steve off, “No.”

Sam shook his head, “He won’t believe us.”

Steve shrugged, looking to Sam, “Even if he did-”

Sam interrupted, “Who knows if the Accords would let him help.”

“We’re on our own.”

Sam thought in silence before looking between Florence and Steve, “Maybe not. I know a guy.”

A few phone calls and a handful of hours later, the quartet was packed into a small car, parked under an overpass. Steve stepped out of the car to greet Sharon, another favor that was called in, retrieving their gear. Sam sat in the passenger seat in silence, while Florence was huddled into the driver’s backseat, knee unwillingly brushing Bucky’s much larger frame.

Bucky had a scowl on his face, whether it was from the seating arrangement or the situation they had found themselves in, Florence didn’t know. Bucky stared ahead at the back of Sam’s head, “Can you move your seat up?”

Sam snapped back monotonously, “No.”

Bucky shifted slightly towards the middle of the seat, further invading Florence’s space. Although she wasn’t complaining, she hadn’t been this close to him in decades.

The trio looks on in a mixture of shock and proudness as they watch Steve and Sharon share a kiss, Steve sauntering back to the car with a smug smile with gear in hand.

A cramped car ride later, they arrived at the airport, Steve’s choice of car rattled and squeaked through the parking garage. They parked next to a van that contained Sam’s favor that was called in. Clint and Wanda stepped out of the van as Florence squeezed out of the car behind Steve.

Sam stepped up next to Steve, conversing with Clint and Wanda, Florence staying by the car with Bucky. They watched as Clint slid the van door open, a highly caffeinated Scott Lang appeared.

Steve stood with his arms crossed, “They tell you what we’re up against?”

Scott shrugged, “Something about psycho-assassins?”

“We’re outside the law on this one. So if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.” Steve was giving Scott his last way out, not wanting him to be involved with something he didn’t want to be.

Scott merely raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, well, what else is new?”

Beside Florence, Bucky spoke as he leaned against the car, “We should get moving.”

Clint spoke, “We got a chopper lined up.”

Speakers began to blare overhead in German, Florence translating in her head as Bucky translated for the others, “They’re evacuating the airport.”

Sam looked to Steve, “Stark.”

“Stark!” Scott looked at Steve with his eyebrows raised.

A frown etched itself on Steve’s face, “Suit up.”

Later, the team took their places around the airport with their gear on. Florence was with Sam and Bucky, watching through the terminal windows as Steve and Tony talked amongst themselves along with Natasha with Rhodey.

Florence shifted uncomfortably, standing between Sam and Bucky. She was nervous for what was about to happen, antsy to get Bucky out of here. She knew he was a wanted man, both by the government, T’Challa, and now by Tony. She didn’t want to have to fight her friends, but for Bucky, she would do anything.

Sam was busy using Redwing to find their Quinjet, Bucky standing in silence. Neither Florence nor Bucky have had an opportunity to have a proper conversation, too busy not getting captured or killed.

Chaos ensued below, various Avengers fighting amongst themselves. Florence took off with Bucky and Sam running through the hanger. Spider-Man appeared on the window, Bucky turning in confusion as he ran, “What the hell is that?”

Sam groaned, strides falling behind slightly, “Everyone's got a gimmick now.”

The spider swung through the window, breaking it as he kicked Sam. Bucky and Florence halted, turning to the attacker. Bucky threw a punch, the spider’s red-gloved hand catching it with ease. Both Bucky and Florence stared in horror at how was able to easily stop Bucky’s punch.

“You have a metal arm? That is awesome dude.” The spider was taken down by Sam, grabbing him and flying up with him. Bucky and Florence resumed running, watching as Sam dropped the kid as he webbed himself up. Bucky threw a beam at the spider, trying to knock him down. He and Florence took cover, weighing their options of escape. Spider-Man throws the object back at Bucky, Florence yanking the man away from the crash.

They take off running again, Sam temporarily distracting the attacker. The distraction is short-lived, Sam being webbed down to the balcony railing. Bucky and Florence run across towards Sam, the spider crashing into both of them and sent them crashing through the glass railing to the floor level below. Florence, Sam, and Bucky land with a thud, the spider quick to web their hands to the floor with no chance of escaping the unusual restraints.

The spider sat on top of a kiosk, looking down on them, “Guys, look, I’d love to keep this up, but I’ve only got one job here today, and I gotta impress Mr. Stark, so, I’m really sorry.” Sam managed to tap a button on his suit, Redwing appearing and dragging the spider through the air and through the window.

Bucky groaned, “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”

Sam snarked back, “I hate you.”

Between the two men, Florence could only laugh. The situation wasn’t funny, but if she didn’t laugh, she’d cry and her training made crying a weakness. Neither Sam nor Bucky commented on the redheads' theatrics, only looking at her oddly. Bucky couldn’t help the minuscule smile he had as he watched her laugh.

They eventually freed themselves from the webs, jumping to their feet and outside to join Steve, along with Wanda, Scott, and Clint. The group ran toward the jet as fast as they could, impending doom settled itself in Florence’s chest as she ran between Bucky and Sam.

Vision hovered overhead, casting a line of heat in front of the running group, causing them to come to a halt.

Vision remains in the air, speaking, “Captain Rogers. I know you believe what you’re doing is right.” Tony and Natasha joined below him, “But for the collective good, you must surrender now.” Black Panther, Rhodey, and Spider-Man join, all standing together across from them, divided.

Both groups faced off against one another, Sam breaking the tension, “What do we do, Cap?”

Steve took a breath, “We fight.”

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please reblog!

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @lilyviolets @jckie94 @badgernix @geek-and-proud @ginger-swag-rapunzel

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subverbaldreams · 3 years

Text

Asylum in Winter

Chapter 9: Sir

(smut)

Pairing: Bucky x Steve in this chapter. (storyline also contains Bucky x Venom and Bucky x Rumlow)

Overall Synopsis: Venom and Rumlow help Bucky escape Hydra to go find the man from the bridge. Mayhem ensues. And sex…lots of sex.

This chapter: loving, dominant Steve, Bucky’s memory loss, Bucky waking up after having his trigger words spoken, jealous Steve & Rumlow, 1.7k words

*******************

Steve’s stomach is in knots. Every time Bucky’s breathing changes he leans forward in his chair, hopeful yet terrified to see those eyes open. It’s not fear of another attack, but fear of the emptiness. Fear that nothing remains inside the body of the man he’d loved except Hydra’s killing machine. No compassion, no conscience, no heart.

Calm down, he tells himself for the hundredth time. He escaped from Hydra for a reason.

Unless, his mind whispers, that reason was Rumlow.

Bucky is laid out on a plush leather couch, towels underneath him to keep blood and dirt off the furniture. The scratches on his throat have all vanished, but there’s a suspicious row of bruises still tattooed into his skin that look like—they can’t be—hickeys.

Outside, birds wheel joyously around fir trees and sunlight reflects up from the water below. He’d had to call in a favor to get access to this lake house, but he trusts Tony Stark at least enough to stay out of this one. He may have told a slightly skewed version of the truth to get here, but for Bucky’s sake he’d do a lot worse.

Bucky’s been out cold for the last four hours, after being put down twice more by whatever that black stuff is; Rumlow refuses to tell him. The scumbag finally, finally got out of Steve’s hair to go shower a few minutes ago; he’d been hovering over Bucky like a vulture protecting its meal.

A sharp intake of breath. Steve leans in. Bucky’s eyelashes flutter, then his eyes slit open.

“Bucky,” Steve breathes.

Bucky’s face contorts as if in pain. Steve reaches out to touch his shoulder, but Bucky jerks back from him, eyes flying wide open.

***

Blue eyes. Blond hair. A voice. A name.

“Bucky,” the man murmurs, and the sound itself means nothing but the voice—that voice. A flood of longing roars through the soldier’s chest, so barbed with the edges of forgotten dreams that he’s lost in it for a second.

Only a second. Then he realizes where he’d been only a moment before, on the field of battle, and there had been a voice in his head, changing him, owning him. Everything after that is a blur like spilled paint. All he knows for certain is that Hydra had taken him back, at least for a time.

He jumps up, rolls off the furniture while reaching for his knife (it’s gone) and then his gun (also gone) while doing a quick sweep of the room. They’re alone.

His agent should be here. The soldier can think of only one reason why he isn’t.

“Did I kill him?” he blurts out, his voice cracking over the word “kill.”

“Who? Rumlow?” The man’s voice goes hard as he says the name. The soldier tries to remember if that name fits the right person.

Yes, Venom interjects. Brock Rumlow is the name of our agent. The soldier nods and the man answers, “No. He’s fine,” in a voice cold as ice.

Have to find him, the soldier thinks, but Venom responds: He is here. He and the Cap have been antagonizing each other for hours and he went to a different room. Finally, it adds in a grumble.

The cap? the soldier repeats, confused all over again. But the blond man has stood up and is walking toward him, one hand slightly lifted as if to touch him. The soldier backs up warily. His mission is complete, it seems; he’s found the man from the bridge, but nothing is any clearer. The pictures in his head are just as elusive and disjointed as ever.

“Hey, easy, Buck. D’you remember me at all?”

The soldier shakes his head. One backward step after another. “I don’t know you.”

But I knew him.

He draws in a hiss of breath.

He is here, inside of your mind, Venom affirms. You know him.

“No,” the soldier says out loud. His heel hits the edge of the wall, forcing him to stop his retreat. He should raise his arms. Protect himself. But he’s utterly still as the man’s hand closes the gap between them and lightly brushes against his jaw. The man’s face shows no aggression. His eyes are soft—and, the soldier realizes with a strange, giddy swirl, full of tears.

“You know me. You do,” he insists when the soldier shakes his head. “That’s why you left Hydra, isn’t it?”

That, the soldier can’t answer. Because it’s true, he had left Hydra to find this man, but now that he’s got him, the soldier doesn’t know what to do about it. He hadn’t planned beyond the search. There is no plan beyond any search, except to eliminate the target.

Everything has changed.

“My name’s Steve. Remember? You used to call me Stevie.”

He shakes his head again. The man’s fingers have traced behind his ear now and it makes the skin tingle all the way down his neck on that side.

“And your name is Bucky Barnes, and you know me.”

“No, I don’t!” The soldier shoves the other man with both hands, sending him skidding back six feet. Venom whirls through him, forcing calm into limbs which feel electrified with adrenaline. He’s shaking all over. “That’s not my name. I don’t know you.”

He is our mission. We came to find him.

“Shut up,” the soldier hisses between his teeth. He feels weightless, like he’s stepped out onto a tightrope and it’s fallen suddenly out from underneath him. Like he’s falling and falling and he doesn’t know what’s down below. He takes no defensive measures as the man closes back in on him. Line of heat across the front of his body, heavy weight pushing him back against the wall. The man is breathing as heavily as he is, though there’s no reason for it. He isn’t afraid, isn’t angry—not exactly—nothing about his behavior makes sense.

His knee wedges between the soldier’s legs. The soldier knows he should move, should block that leg and make space between them, but there’s this scent, along with the weight and the position. It smells like crawling under barbed wire and drinking arm in arm at night. It smells like being held, and being held down, but not in the ways he’s known with Hydra.

Something deep and old inside his chest rips open and comes out of his mouth in a strange, whimpering moan.

“Tell me you don’t remember this,” the man growls in his ear, then his thick thigh rises between the soldier’s legs, a kick against his instep lifts one of his feet off the ground and a hand on his ass guides his hips so he’s riding that thigh, cock grinding against the junction of the man’s thigh and hip. Another hand on his throat; the grip is firm, bordering on cruel. The man takes nearly all of the soldier's weight onto his thigh and moves the hand from his ass to fist in his hair and jerk his head back. Another whimper wrenches out of him as the man’s mouth crashes down onto his, not to kiss but to bite, painful and wet, pulling his lip away from his teeth. He grabs wildly at the man’s shoulders, starts to twist away but he can’t make himself do it; that grinding leg has him pushing right back like a dog humping its master and something about that…about all of this…

The man’s tongue dives into his mouth and any coherent ideas fly from his mind. There is nothing but sensation. Head forced into a sideways bend to open him for the man’s ravaging mouth. Fingertips and thumb clamped around his throat, making his head light. Fist pulling his hair back, controlling him. Five o’clock shadow scraping his lips raw, the man’s heavy, insistent weight, that scent which is everything he never knew, never thought he needed to know and it’s all so much, it’s cresting, it’s crashing over him—

“Aaah!! Aaaaaahhh!!!”

The man eats the screams out of his mouth as the orgasm takes his whole body in a hurricane blast. He ruts helplessly into the man’s thigh, grinding out every last shudder.

“There’s my boy,” the man grunts, face rooting into the hair behind his ear and thick body pushing him even harder into the wall, panting like he’s just run for miles. The soldier feels the man’s huge, hard cock pressed up against him through their pants. He’s locked into that eternal moment between one breath and another when the man’s voice, rough with hunger, growls against his neck:

“Sir is very happy with you.”

The soldier’s next breath doesn’t come. His eyes fly wide open. Venom, swimming drunkenly inside him on the waves of their orgasm, freezes as well and it’s as though they’ve become no more animated than a photograph. A snapshot in time. Something like warm sleet, if there were such a thing, rains through the soldier’s body from head to toes and turns his legs to water. He can’t hold himself up and the man doesn’t try to help him do it, either; the man controls his fall, putting him on his knees, and this is RIGHT. He BELONGS here. It’s better than a memory; his entire being knows this. He looks up into a face that’s flushed and panting. The man’s eyes have turned wild and dark: an endless ocean filled with starving predators. His rigid, clothed cock is just inches from the soldier’s mouth. The man cradles his face in both hands to gaze down at him, one angled to cup his throat in a gentle reminder of a crueler grip, and the soldier reaches up to hold the backs of the man’s hands with a reverence that shivers down to his very core. The smell of him, his touch, his voice, what he’d said—

Sir. The title dances just behind his tongue.

He doesn’t know what will happen if he says it out loud, only that it will be different than any other time he’s said it; to this man, to the two of them, it means something different.

And I KNOW him.

The soldier’s mouth opens.

Click-clack of metal against metal. The soldier reacts instinctively, twisting into a crouch, ready to spring in any direction as he and the man both swivel toward the sound.

His agent stands there, gun pointed at the man (at Steve) in a two handed grip. He’s shirtless, belt off and his hair dripping wet.

“Back the fuck up, Cap. NOW.”

******************

The rest of the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950409/chapters/79128799

#stucky #bucky x steve #bucky barnes x steve rogers #dom/sub #dominant!steve Rogers #dom steve #sub bucky barnes #nff

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roselen-mylady · 4 years

Text

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part ten

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

Though Steve showed no signs of leaving or the anger Y/n had feared, she still felt the anxiety that came from revealing her true past. He was supportive, as he always was and so was everyone else once they were told. Tony only had a mere, 'I knew it' to add to the subject and while Y/n was touched, she couldn't help the array of things she felt.

Foolish was one of them. Hiding her past from them before was stupid but Steve insisted that her going underground was probably best since HYDRA would've searched for her. While that brought her some solace she was still uncomfortable with the idea of becoming more involved. Something always went wrong and Nat was proof.

She missed her friend badly and Y/n couldn't help but feel it was her own cursed luck that had taken Nat. It was ridiculous to think that she could ever be happy. Stupid to think she could help her friends bring back everyone. Stupid to think she might actually meet her soulmate.

"Hey, kid. We're going to put the stones together." Tony cut into Y/n's racing thoughts. Her gaze lifted from the drawing Steve had given her, settling on Tony as he leaned in through the doorway.

She didn't know why she was still looking at the picture or why she had even accepted it. She wanted to believe she was still furious, still resentful. Wanted to force all the pain and guilt she felt into him once more. But in all reality she was just so lost. For years she pretended to be someone else and now that she was free to be the girl she once was, she didn't even remember who that was.

A genius? A hero? A terrified little orphan? She had no idea but she didn't want to be any. She wanted to be Y/n, a friend and a psychiatrist. She now understood why Steve wanted her around. He needed someone to remind him of who he was, who he truly was.

Was James that person once?

Was that why she found herself gazing at the sketch, hoping for a split second that maybe she could go back to the moment that was drawn? Praying to go back to a time where James Barnes was fighting for his past and his own will. A time where he might comfort her like he did Steve over the death of Nat. A time where his thoughts were his own and so we're his actions.

Y/m almost hated herself for despising him. Though she knew there was still much to his story she was too scared to ask, she knew he was nothing more than a tortured soul with a gun. She couldn't figure out how the man in the drawing was the same man who'd nearly killed her.

It wasn't.

Noticing her broken expression, Tony hesitantly stepped into the room coming to sit with her. Her fingers gently held the page and he looked down at it, recognizing the face instantly. It sent a chill through his spine, seeing the same face almost ripped the arc reactor straight from his chest.

It had taken him years to forgive Steve but he still struggled to do the same with the man who murdered his parents in cold blood. All the hatred toward his parents' assassin had gone unresolved since Steve and Bucky left him at that frozen HYDRA base. And once forgiving Steve, Tony had no other outlet and he found it difficult to sit there with the picture.

So he tried to focus on something else.

"So, you and Ms. Romanoff were close?" He mumbled trying poorly to begin consoling her. She nodded numbly, folding the paper and setting it aside.

The emotions she felt were mixed and intense making it hard for her to filter through her feelings but one surfaced more than others. Guilt.

"Ever since the snap." She replied, her shoulders slack. Tony and Nat had their own relationship, one much older than her own but they'd been apart for so long. Ever since Nat went off the grid with Steve and even after the snap when he distanced himself from all of them, they hardly interacted. But they were friends. The type of friends that wouldn't be parted even by death.

"Do you think things would be different if I hadn't showed up?" Y/n asked him suddenly. He looked over at her studying her guilt ridden eyes that she kept trained on the floor. It was a familiar look, one he wore often. But not one he wanted her to.

"Natasha wasn't the type of person to let anyone dictate her choices. I think she was ready to give her life for a cause and none of us could've stopped her." Tony sighed, the weight of her death finally reaching its max. "Not even a couple of geniuses."

•••

"Let's hope this doesn't blow up." Tony mumbled next to her. The small group consisting of them with the addition of Bruce and Rocket stood in the lab, waiting in anticipation as Tony carefully placed the stones in the gauntlet. With his shaking hands it was difficult to be precise while he manipulated the machine but he managed to place all six stones in their respective places. They held their breath unsure if the stones would react or blow up the lab as Tony feared.

"Boom!" Rocket yelled suddenly making all of them flinch. He began to laugh loudly and they all turned to him with annoyed looks. Y/n slapped the back of his head, cutting his laughing short as she walked off trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. Tony muttered something under his breath moving to bring the gauntlet to a more accessible area for the wearer.

"You're an asshole." Y/n groaned. Tony walked past them, putting the gauntlet on a display table that made it hover a couple inches above.

"Come on, it was funny!" Rocket argued, earning an unamused stare from both Tony and Y/n.

It took a few minutes for Bruce to collect everyone but eventually everyone was gathered around the gauntlet. Most had expressions Y/n familiarized with PTSD and once following their gazes she realized their experience with the gauntlet Thanos wore was resurfacing.

Hopefully, with the new one they'd be able to reverse what he'd done. But the trauma would stay. That she knew.

"All right. The glove's ready. Question is, who's gonna snap their fucking fingers?" Rocket questioned, looking up at the group. Their options were limited since most people in the room were only human, even Steve.

"I'll do it." Thor volunteered without hesitation. He drunkenly stepped forward making everyone turn to him with confused and reluctant looks. Their choices were limited but they weren't desperate enough to put such a powerful object on a drunk god.

"Excuse me?" Scott asked, glancing around at the others for one of them to tell Thor what a bad idea it was.

"It's okay." Thor insisted, marching forward with a purpose. Steve moved to stop him with the help of Tony making the poor large man pause.

"No, no, no, whoa. Stop. Stop. Wait a sec. Hey, hey–" Everyone was a mess of refusal and Thor's face turned hurt as he tried to continue.

"Wait, wait, Thor, just wait. We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet." Steve explained. Thor shifted on his feet, clearly upset with their rejection.

"I'm sorry. What, we're just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?" He asked,

annoyed. Scott looked to Y/n hoping she might use some of her 'therapist powers' he called them after realizing she really couldn't read minds.

"We should at least discuss it." Y/n tried to reason. Thor shook his head stubbornly, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

"No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty." He told them, gesturing to the gauntlet then himself.

"It's not about that–" Tony told him gently, coming to stand in front of him as he started to move Thor back. Thor resisted but was unsuccessful as he started to grow emotional. "Hey buddy-" Tony tried again only to be cut short by Thor frantically shushing him and everyone else.

"Stop it! Just let me! Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right." Thor begged, tears filling his eyes. He was desperate to prove he was worthy, to prove he could still be the hero he once was.

"Look– It's not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition." Tony fought. There was no way they were going to let him hold the fate of the world in his hand while he was drunk. Even the Thor he was years ago shouldn't have held that kind of power, it was too risky.

"What do you– What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?" Thor asked, his eyes studying Tony's for any kind of hope that might tell him they would let him make the sacrifice.

"Cheez Whiz?" Rhodey scoffed, earning a glare from Y/n. Thor looked over at Rhodey pointing a shaky finger at him as he tried not to cry in frustration. He held onto Tony, grasping at his shoulders and prying Tony's attention away from Rhodey's comment.

"Lightning." Thor corrected, looking back to Tony with pleading eyes. Tony nodded but he knew he couldn't allow Thor to wear the gauntlet. "Lightning." Thor repeated, distraught but Tony's reaction.

"Lightning won't help you, pal. It's gotta be me." Bruce announced suddenly. Thor shook his head letting go of Tony. "You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive." Bruce explained.

"How do we know you will?" Steve questioned as Bruce paced over to the gauntlet.

"We don't. But the radiation's mostly gamma. It's like...I was made for this." Bruce mumbled. He gazed intensely at the stones, silently calculating his odds. If the Hulk couldn't handle this, was this really how he was going to die? And if so would it even work?

They looked at each other knowing it was their best chance at bringing them back. They had to take it.

Tony stepped forward, grabbing the gauntlet and handing it to Bruce as they headed to a more secure part of the lab.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Y/n asked Bruce quietly. She knew how Nat's death had affected him and she refused to make the same mistake with him.

"Yes. We have to finish this." He declared. Y/n watched as he paced forward to catch up with Tony as she lagged behind to Steve.

"Do you think this will work?" Steve questioned. Y/n chewed her lip anxiously, focusing her stare at the gauntlet as Steve came to stand beside her.

"Bruce's gamma radiation is stronger and most equipped to handle the energy but it's still dangerous. The stones are too powerful together, I didn't think they were ever really meant to be used together." She sighed, hating the sacrifices that came with saving the world. If they lost someone else just for this to not work was it really even worth trying?

"Bruce is strong." Steve tried to ease her worry but it wasn't enough.

"I know. I just-I can't keep losing people, Steve. It's like a curse. Every time I try to do something good…-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're not gonna lose anyone else. Not on my watch." Steve promised but both of them knew it was practically empty. There was no guarantee. "Let's just bring everyone back."

Y/n tried to smile but like his promise it was hollow. "Yeah, okay."

"Good to go, yeah?" Tony questioned as Bruce carefully held the piece in his large hands. He seemed anxious but who wouldn't be in that situation.

"Let's do it." He confirmed as Y/n and Steve returned to the group. She walked around him, stopping beside Tony and sharing a steady nod.

"You remember–everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you're just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years." Tony told him seriously.

"Got it." Bruce assured. Then suddenly the room grew quiet and a tenseness settled in the air that Y/n was too amazed to catch onto. For the first time she realized she was living the dream of millions of people. Everyone had readied themselves and Y/n watched as they stood there in their superhero uniforms, the power and determination they all had washing over her.

Tony pressed his chest allowing his suit to expand and morph to his body, a shield lighting up before him. His stare then drifted to Y/n who still stood there in her casual clothes, watching them all confused and out of place. Why were they getting ready now? They were doing this here?

"Hey, kiddo. Come on." Tony urged, motioning to her earpiece. She gave a soft 'oh' mimicking him as she pressed the button making her own suit appear. A shield of her own design came to her forearm and Tony eyed it curiously.

"Did you mess with the suit?" He asked, the seriousness in his tone startling her a bit. She shrugged, looking at him defensively.

"Yeah, you said it was just a prototype so I fixed it a bit." She explained. He looked away, grateful she couldn't see the entertained smirk on his lips as he turned back to Bruce.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?" Tony called. Y/n had gotten used to the suit during the time she could spare to examine it and she put 70% power into the armor, figuring if something did go wrong it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little more protected.

"Yes, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y replied. Metal doors began to close off the lab as the compound went into lockdown and if the seriousness of the situation hadn't set in yet it definitely did then as Y/n widened her stance to try and brace herself.

"Everybody comes home." Bruce reminded himself, cautiously reaching his hand into the gauntlet. The gauntlet expanded to fit his hand thanks to Tony's nanotech but as soon as it was fully on the power of the stones surged through him. He grunted in pain collapsing to his knees as the energy began to burn into his arm.

"Take it off! Take it off!" Thor cried, waving his hands as Bruce shakily held the gauntlet. Steve stepped forward, keeping anyone from acting.

"No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?" Steve questioned. He knew more than anyone that just because something was painful didn't mean they couldn't do it.

"Talk to me, Banner." Tony called, becoming more concerned with each unresponsive moment. Y/n started moving to help but froze as Bruce looked up at them.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." He insisted. They eased up a little and everyone watched carefully as he tried to regain control of the stones. Thor gave a double thumbs up, watching the scene before him with an astounded expression.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y what are his vitals?" Y/n questioned anxiously. Charts bloomed around Bruce and she quickly read them realizing his heart rate was dangerously high. In fact everything was high, his blood pressure, his respiration rate, even his body temperature had increased. Bruce screamed again, fighting the instinct to remove the gauntlet from the overwhelming pain it caused him as he lined up his fingers.

The world seemed to stop at the echoing of the snap, the fated sound she'd only heard about for five years finally filling her head the same way it had for the others.

He fainted and the gauntlet fell off his arm, clattering on the floor before Clint quickly kicked it away from him.

"Bruce!" Steve called, kneeling beside him as the others rushed forward to check on him. Y/n tugged the remains of his sleeve back gently as Tony kneeled beside her, holding up his hand.

"Don't move him." Tony demanded, applying a coolant spray from his fingertips over Bruce's arm. Bruce groaned, reaching out and grabbing Steve's arm urgently.

"Did it work?" He questioned breathlessly, keeping his large hand tight around Steve's arm. Thor gave him a reassuring smile while Y/n looked over the damage of his arm.

"We're not sure. It's okay." Thor soothed, his voice hopeful as he turned his gaze toward the door where the lab was starting to open up again. Scott walked off to the now open area and some of the others spread out to see what had happened but Y/n stayed at Bruce's side.

"You did great, Bruce." She told him, giving him a smile to which he returned, though it was a bit more pained. A muted vibrating came from the table on the other side of the room and Y/n turned to see Clint walking over to it almost numb.

Did it work?

"Honey? Honey." Clint spoke, his voice quivering in joy as Y/n looked at Tony. They shared a wide eyed glance, both rattled by the idea that they might have actually won.

Y/n wished to look at her wrist, praying that the countdown she had before the snap returned. She couldn't even remember how many days it had read back then but it didn't matter anymore. She just wanted to meet her soulmate. Would he be looking for her?

Were his eyes really blue?

But their victory couldn't last long and Y/n knew that as she followed Bruce's gaze to the skylight above them. There flying menacingly above the compound was the biggest spacecraft she had ever seen and dread instantly set in upon seeing the missile coming their way.

"Look out!" Y/n screamed, trying to warn the others but it was too late. Her helmet quickly came forward along with her shield which she tried desperately to put over Bruce's head, protecting her and him from falling debris. But the roof wasn't the only thing falling apart.

The floor split and some of the group fell into the large hole while Y/n struggled to regain her balance. She quickly looked around her, catching sight of Steve sliding across the floor toward the hole. Using the thrusters, she launched forward, grabbing hold of one of the straps to his uniform and dragging him back toward Tony.

The building was falling down around them and any means of escape were closing off faster than she could find them. Steve managed to climb to his feet again but before either of them could come up with a plan a large piece of the roof fell, striking Y/n down. She cried out falling through the floor to the room below, getting pinned on her stomach under the roofing.

"Y/n!" Steve yelled, peering down into the hole. Y/n gasped, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Tony looked down too, the two men struggling to keep themselves up as they waited anxiously for her to speak.

"Minimal damage to prototype armor." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced making Y/n groan. She slowly lifted herself up using her back to push off the rumble before leaning back on her knees, panting slightly.

"You call that minimal?" She questioned, annoyed. Tony chuckled through the headset, her reply giving him a little relief knowing she was alright.

"The suits can handle more than we can, kid." He explained. Y/n grumbled, climbing to her feet. She didn't care how durable the suit was, she was still very much human inside the metal and every hit the suit felt, she did too.

"Are you okay?" Steve called, leaning closer to the edge of the hole. Tony put a hand on his chest, keeping him from falling in while Y/n slowly climbed to her feet.

"Yeah. I'm fine, Steve." She waved her hand pretending to be nonchalant before coughing from how forcefully her lungs had been emptied. They were about to attempt to go down to her when the floor they were on shifted and Steve fell over, sliding off to another part in the lab.

"Cap!" Tony called, trying to reach out and catch him. Steve called back that he would be alright giving Tony a little assurance as he turned his gaze back to Y/n. "This building is falling apart!" He called down to her.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, looking around at the floor around her. She had landed in the living room area, one of her favorite places but like the rest of the facility it was falling to ruin.

"Find the stones. We can't risk losing them." Tony instructed. Y/n let out a short sigh, the weight of the task making her stomach turn.

"Is it too late to go home?" She joked. Tony smiled softly unbeknownst to Y/n. The building shook again with another hit and he knew he wouldn't have long to talk to her.

"No." He answered truthfully. If she could find a way out, there would be nothing stopping her. She could easily fly away and forget about this. "But you know what they say. It only takes one fight to make a hero." Tony explained.

Y/n pierced her lips, knowing that she never really intended on leaving. She was all in from the moment Scott had been yelling into the camera and though she'd been doubtful before, she knew this was where she was meant to be.

"Go be Iron Star." Tony chuckled, making her scoff and shake her head. Of course, he had to ruin the moment.

"We really gotta talk about that name!" She called, turning away and running off toward the window to her left. Using the thrusters in the metallic boots she flew forward and smashed through the glass, unsteadily keeping herself in the air outside.

"Just find the stones."

•••

When Bucky had woken up he was right where he'd been in Wakanda. T'Challa ran to him trying very hastily to explain what had happened. They had been gone for five years according to the wizard man they called 'Strange' and now they needed to come fight Thanos again.

While Bucky was usually quick to understand and move on to the next fight, he couldn't help but stop at this news. He'd promised himself that the fight with Thanos was the last time so that he could find his soulmate but he was still fighting. When would it stop?

For a split second he feared maybe his chance at meeting his soulmate had come and gone and he frantically ripped back his right sleeve to look at his wrist.

"3 days?" Sam asked, peeking down at Bucky's arm as T'Challa organized his army. Bucky numbly nodded, his heart racing as he watched the seconds tick away. He was three days away from her.

He had to make it through this time.

No matter what.

•••

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you scan the compound for the stones' energy signature?" Y/n questioned, looking over the wreckage of what was once the Avengers compound. It didn't even look the same, all blown to the foundation with rubble spread around like a battlefield.

"I detect energy levels matching the stones underneath the building in the sewer systems. You should have access through what's left of the first floor." The A.I. answered. Y/n flew over to the nearest opening of the building, using micro lasers to burn a hole into the floor leading down into the sewers.

She jumped down into it, landing as quietly as possible before looking around. It was hard to see much, the only light being the blaring red light of the alarm system but the tunnel appeared empty other than the obvious debris and flooding. She cautiously walked forward watching as her display outlined the surrounding area.

It was eerily silent, the soft trickling of water putting her on edge as she continued down the tunnel, following the power signature of the stones.

"I detect hostiles approaching." F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke suddenly. Y/n watched carefully as her display changed, showing a clearer picture using an x-ray of the surroundings. The stones rapidly approached as did the hostiles and she quickly held up her hands, powering up the repulsors as Clint ran into her vision.

"Shoot 'em!" Clint screamed, narrowly dodging one of the creatures that lined the tunnel. Y/n did what he said, firing at the closest creature before moving onto the next, trying to hold them off long enough for Clint to run past her.

"What the hell are these things?!" She yelled, following after him as they both broke off into a sprint through the water.

"I don't know but I'm tired of this alien shit!" Clint shouted over his shoulder as Y/n glanced back at the creatures, firing again at one that got too close. Clint pulled out one of his arrows, throwing it into one of the pipes next to them before running faster.

Catching onto what he was doing, she picked up speed as well, jumping with him as the arrow exploded taking out most of the creatures. Y/n looked up from the ground, noticing that some of them had started to crawl through the flames making her climb to her feet, grabbing Clint under his arms.

She activated the thrusters and they launched up, faltering a bit since Y/n had barely learned to fly by herself let alone while carrying someone. Clint unsheathed his sword, yelling as he cut through some of the creatures that had climbed up beside them.

Once reaching the top Y/n dropped him to the side before falling herself, tumbling a few feet away. Clint climbed to his knees, holding out his sword as he let out a threatening shout. Thankfully, no other creatures appeared over the edge and he collapsed onto his back next to Y/n.

"Hey." Clint chuckled, nudging Y/n tiredly. "You're an Avenger now." He told her drawing a half-hearted laugh from her. She groaned the pain in her ribs increasing at the action and she put a hand over her side.

"Being an Avenger hurts."

•••

Once going through the portal the wizard had made, Bucky was met with a wasteland. Thanos and Steve watched as others arrived through the portals and while Steve's expression was much more relieved than Thanos', it was clear they were only evening the playing field as Bucky looked toward Thanos' forces.

The Wakandan armies chanted as hundreds of other heroes came through the portals, each ready for the final battle. He walked forward, coming to stand a few feet away from Steve as he studied the enemy across the way. He was determined to finish what they had started five years ago. He wanted to find his soulmate and he wanted this fight to truly be the last.

"Avengers!" Steve called. Bucky held his breath, hoping with everything he had that for all his misfortune over the years, today would end better.

He'd suffered for a lifetime.

Please let this be the last fight.

"Assemble."

Everyone yelled, running forward at Thanos' forces. The fight broke out and Bucky managed to find himself alongside the raccoon he'd encountered last time. They shared brief eye contact and Rocket's eyes flashed with recognition while Bucky tried to ignore him.

"How about now?!" Rocket yelled, motioning to his arm. Bucky glanced over at him, growing annoyed with the talking animal's persistence. What the hell would a raccoon do with his arm?

"No!" Bucky yelled back. He turned, noticing one of the creatures had been sneaking up on Steve while he had his back turned and Bucky quickly shot at it, knocking it down. Steve turned, giving Bucky a grateful and joyous smile. Bucky smiled back making sure to keep aware of the creatures around him.

"What the hell did you get me into, Steve?" Bucky yelled teasingly. His friend gave a short chuckle, using the large hammer to slam back another one of Thanos's creatures.

"Nothing two old men can't handle."

Taglist:

Part eleven

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

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wkemeup · 5 years

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Guiding Light (9)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7k warnings: angst™, cannon violence, PTSD symptoms, 🖤series masterlist // series playlist

The tight grip Bucky’s arm was the only thing keeping his feet on the ground. His mind was a thousand miles away, somewhere up in the clouds because what laid before him couldn’t possibly be real, couldn’t be anything but the darkest corners of his imagination or a fantasy that had been warped twisted and cruel within his nightmares.

It couldn’t actually be you lying at his feet in Natasha’s arms, scars and burns upon your skin and blood seeping through your clothes. It couldn’t be because he’d watched you die. He saw it happen on live television along with the entirety of New York City and he’d seen the bullet pierce through your temple, saw the blood splatter on the wall, and the cold, unforgiving stare of your eyes.

The grip on his arm tightened as he started to feel light-headed and he looked to his right to find Steve watching him, concerned and terrified and filled with a remorse Bucky couldn’t begin to describe himself. Steve’s handprint marked in red on Bucky’s skin and the burn was a relief from the agonizing churning in his stomach.

Men and women in white coats rushed through the garage at Tony’s demands, urgently nudging Sam aside as they attempted to move you to the stretcher. It took a moment before Natasha was willing to let you go, her arms wrapped so tightly around your barely conscious frame, hands brushing through your hair, trying to wipe the blood from your face. It was Steve that eventually kneeled down beside her, giving her a slight nod, a brush of his hand over her shoulder and a careful whisper in her ear, before she let go.

Bucky watched as they carried you inside on the gurney, shouting orders at one another and hooking every possible machine up to your body as they could manage. Your left arm hung over the edge, limp, and a dread so devastating filled Bucky’s chest because you looked so lifeless and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that again; watching you die for a second time. Even as you disappeared into the building, Tony and Sam on the heels of the paramedics, Bucky couldn’t find the will to move his legs. He was frozen, paralyzed, and he was certain he was dreaming.

It had to be a nightmare, some cruel trick of his mind, because how else could you end up dropped at the driveway of the Avenger’s compound after all that happened?

He started pinching at his arm now that Steve’s grip left him, tugging skin between his fingers until a sharp pain radiated on his right forearm, but he wasn’t waking up. The skin was turning bright red, blood vessels popping and Steve grabbed a hold of his hand, ushering it away.

“You’re awake, Buck,” he said softly, knowing enough to be aware of the small ticks in Bucky’s coping, heathy and not, that he used to keep himself grounded. He looked down and his skin was already purpling. His therapist would frown at that.

“It can’t really be her, can it?” Bucky whispered, voice too broken and shaken for anyone but Steve to hear.

He didn’t respond right away, his left hand squeezing Bucky’s forearm reassuringly as his right curled around Natasha’s shoulders, tugging her into the crook of his chest and Bucky winced as he heard her trying to stifle her cries. Steve let out a heavy sigh, staring out into the garage before he glanced down at the pavement by their feet. Speckles of red discolored the cement below.

“I don’t... I don’t know,” Steve admitted carefully and Bucky swallowed back the bile in his throat.

Bucky looked to the door at the end of the garage. Tony and Sam had followed the med team as they rushed you to the medical wing, leaving Bucky, Steve, and Nat outside. He tried to move a leg forward but found it was too heavy under him.

“Steve,” Bucky choked out, his hands shaking, “if she’s been alive this whole time and I didn’t...”

“Don’t go there,” Steve urged, hand gripping tight on Bucky’s arm, “not yet. Let’s get some answers first, okay?”

Bucky nodded, though it didn’t curb the rush of anxiety in his veins. The very idea that you could have been alive while he did nothing to find you, while he so selfishly caved to the darkest parts of himself to try and forget you was unimaginable.

An unsteady breath left his lungs and he pushed himself forward. Steve and Natasha trailed behind him and he knew if they hadn’t, he might have turned and run. It was what he did best.

The med wing was in chaos when he arrived. Dozens of nurses rushing down the halls as Dr. Cho sprinted past the waiting area and down the double doors, beyond where Bucky could see. He watched as she disappeared down the long hallway, turning into a room you had likely been wheeled into. His hands gripped onto the back of a chair, arm shaking, trying to get a better look he’d never find, until Sam blocked his view.

“Come on, man,” he urged, gesturing to the chair next to Steve, “have a seat, will you? You’re making the rest of us nervous.”

There was a soft laugh in his voice, light-hearted and genuine, and Bucky knew it was Sam’s effort at calming him. He was subtle about it, playing it off as his usual humor and Bucky appreciated it more than he would let on because it gave him a sense of normalcy he so desperately craved. Slowly, Bucky let himself collapse into the chair and found his knees ached from how locked they had been.

He didn’t know how long he spent hunched over on that chair, elbows to knees, hands wringing at one another as he tried to keep his breaths as even as he could manage. Tony was pacing relentlessly down the lobby, talking to himself and jotting a few things down on a notepad every few steps. Sam was standing by a vending machine, arms crossed and tapping his foot either from impatience or to the beat of a song in his head, his expression was too hard to reach which. Steve sat on Bucky’s right, staring straight ahead, still as a statue, while Natasha was curled up on the seat beside him, trying to find rest amongst the tension in the air.

Eventually, the double doors parted and Dr. Cho emerged, discarding light blue gloves in the bin and with a solemn grimace on her face. Bucky jumped to his feet the moment he heard the swing of the doors, panic keeping him on alert and unable to relax for even a second. Steve wasn’t far behind him, shaking Nat from her sleep as they met Dr. Cho halfway. Sam made his way over to the group, swaying on his feet as he stood.

“What’s going on here, Helen?” Tony asked quickly and for that, Bucky was thankful.

Dr. Cho paused, hands in the pockets of her lab coat as she glanced between the nervous Avengers in the room. She let out a heavy sigh and shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s her.”

Bucky stumbled on his feet, grabbing a hold of the exposed beam beside him. His whole world was caving in and he couldn’t separate the relief from the devastation of knowing you’d been victim to Hydra this whole time while he grieved and mourned and threw himself back to the darkness you so tirelessly worked to pull him out of.

“How is that... How is that even possible?” Steve questioned, speaking the words from Bucky’s mouth. He didn’t trust his own voice.

“I’m not sure,” Dr. Cho replied. She glanced back at the doors before turning to face the team. “I’ve run every test I could think of; compared DNA from previous injuries and checked for old scars I personally stitched in the OR. It all matched. It’s Y/n. She’s... alive.”

“But,” Natasha started, her voice quieter than Bucky had ever heard it, “we all saw what happened. No one could have survived a headshot like that.”

A silence fell over the room because she was right, there was no real answer for that. Bucky’s grip on the beam was so tight he could feel the metal warping under his fingers, mailable like putty. Steve scratched at the back of his head, glancing up at Bucky before his eyes trailed across the room to Stark, who gave him a single nod.

“She could have survived if it wasn’t her who got shot,” Steve proposed in a kind of sad revelation, sharing a knowing look with Tony.

“I’ve had my suspicions,” Tony agreed, rubbing his hand down his mouth, “couldn’t find any proof, but something was off with her eyes in that video. There was a fleck of gold in the center of her iris common in certain inhumans. Shapeshifters, mostly.”

Bucky could barely process what was happening. He’d been through more in his life than anyone else could have survived; been tortured at the hands of sadistic men, his memories wiped and destroyed, forced to kill for an organization he never agreed to, and yet, nothing hit him with an overwhelming anguish quite like finding out you were still alive.

It was the very thing he found himself praying for to a God he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in; for this all to be a horrible joke and for you to come walking in through the door with the smile on your face that brought butterflies to his stomach, for you to grab his hand and drag him on whatever adventure you had in store whether it was going into the city to remind him of where he grew up or sitting in your room watching movies and getting popcorn in your bed.

It was what he dreamed of and yet, he couldn’t help but think of every day since the video in Times Sqaure that he wasn’t looking for you, wasn’t actively searching to find you and bring you home. He’d given himself over to the soldier just to find some relief from the grief in his chest that he didn’t even stop to consider it was just another ploy by Hydra to torture him and the team, to make them believe you were dead. He stopped looking for you. He gave up on you. He left you in the hands of the very same people who ripped and tore and destroyed him until he was only a shell of who he used to be.

He let that happen to you.

He felt sick.

Nausea swept up Bucky’s stomach and suddenly he was leaning over a trashcan, heaving the contents of his stomach in dry, angry retches. A hand ran over his back, Steve’s, and he groaned at the horrid taste of bile on his tongue. Sam quickly jogged over and handed him a bottle of water with a tight-lipped smile. Bucky took it gratefully and gurgled the remaining stomach contents from his mouth, spitting it into the can.

“It’s a lot to process, I know,” Dr. Cho continued with a steady hand, “but she’s still under the sedation for now. I imagine she’ll wake in a few hours and she’ll be... confused. Scared, probably. Her physical shape is better than I would have expected but we don’t know what they’ve done to her mind. She should have a familiar face in there.”

All eyes fell on Bucky and he clenched his jaw, feeling unnerved by their stares, the automatic assumption that it would be him that you woke up to. Before today, he might not have ever questioned it, would have stepped up before the idea was even proposed. He’d always been the one sitting at your bedside after missions that landed you in the med wing, holding your hand as you slept and pulling away the moment he realized you were waking. He’d be met with your soft smile, a light grunt, and you’d ask him what happened with a pained laugh. It was where he was supposed to be.

He wasn’t sure anymore.

“I don’t... I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, thrown. He ushered for the rest of the team to back off, giving him the space to talk to Bucky alone. As the team retreated to separate chairs around the waiting room, Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. “What are you talking about, Buck? You know she’s gonna want to see you, don’t you?”

“What if…” Bucky let out an aching sigh, and he could feel the words spilling from his tongue before he could stop them, “what if she doesn’t know me? Or what if she does and she hates me for giving up on her? What if—”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Steve interrupted, offering Bucky a kind smile. “You won’t know how she’ll react until you go in there. Trust me Buck, no matter what happens, she’ll find her way back. You did.”

Bucky nodded, though it didn’t ease the tension in his chest. He supposed Steve was right. He had been in your place before, been put through torture at the hands of Hydra and believed to be dead while the rest of the world turned on. He’d been at the worst in his life and he still found a way to swim to the surface. It was because of you, because of Steve and this makeshift family that he was able to survive what happened to him. He’d have to find a way to do it for you, too.

“You’ll be here?” Bucky asked nervously, dropping his gaze to the floor quickly from the shame of it. He couldn’t admit he was afraid to be alone with you, afraid that you might revolt at the sight of him, but knowing Steve was out here, acting as his lifeline, made it feel a little less terrifying.

Steve smiled, giving a reassuring nod. “I’m not going anywhere, pal.”

As Bucky took his first steps down the long hallway, he was certain he had fire in his veins. He glanced back at the team as they waited in the lobby, the only eyes on him were Steve’s, giving him gentle encouragement to keep going. He pushed past the double doors and a muffled silence fell over the hall as they closed behind him. All he could hear was the gentle clicking of a heart monitor in the distance.

He passed four rooms on his left, three on his right, all empty before he came up to the one the beeping was coming from. His hands were clenched painfully at his side, unable to take the step to turn the corner into your room because it meant seeing you for the first time in months, truly seeing you. He’d been too in shock, too out of it outside the garage where you were found to really see you, unconvinced that he was even awake.

“She’s still asleep,” Dr. Cho’s voice came from behind him, soft, encouraging. He watched as she paced around to his front, glancing into your room with a gentle smile. “We washed the blood off so she doesn’t look nearly as bad as we would have expected. Looks like she’s been eating okay, hasn’t lost much weight. No significant physical injuries.”

Bucky nodded, feeling a little more at ease, prepared to walk into your room. “Where did the blood come from then?”

Dr. Cho shrugged. “That I’m not sure. It’s not hers though. She may have sustained it in the escape.”

Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t even considered that you had escaped. Maybe it was his twisted mind but he instinctively assumed that it was Hydra who left you on their doorstep, as their final blow, to remind the avengers that Hydra held power over them, could manipulate them and rip them from the inside out. He assumed that it was just another reminder that they they’d failed you in the worst possible way, a new layer of torture. It was agonizing enough for it to be.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Cho called quietly, pulling him from his trance and Bucky met her eye. She pressed out a kind smile. “Y/n is alive. Focus on that.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled sincerely, trying to re-center himself. He watched for a moment as Dr. Cho disappeared down the hall, the soft clicking of her heels on the tile echoing with every step. He waited until he could no longer hear the tapping of her shoes and closed his eyes, taking in a heavy breath before he turned the corner to your room.

As he stepped inside, his hand gripped at the frame of the door, needing something to hold onto as he finally let himself take you in. Covered by the thin cotton sheets of the hospital bed and a light blue t-shirt and sweats the nursing team must have changed you into, you laid on your back, arms resting down at your sides, head dropped just slightly over to the right, chin pressed to chest, eyes closed.

To his right, a pile of your clothes sat folded upon the countertop, black fabric discolored in deep maroon, and he did his best to ignore it as he made his way to the chair at the side of your bed.

It was like a dream and none it felt real. Bucky was sure he’d wake up at any moment and you’d be ripped away from him again, left alone to cold embrace of the dark, by himself in a room that never felt warm enough without you in it. He collapsed into the soft cushioning; an expense Tony had splurged for after the frequency in which the team was getting hurt in the field. Plastic framing wasn’t cutting it anymore.

So, Bucky carefully slid the chair closer to your bed and tried to relax into the pillowy seat, but it was too soft, kept him on edge, and he let his eyes roam your body. There were scars coating your skin, more than he knew to be on your body the last time he’d seen you; scars that had healed and faded with time, but they had been angry once, red and oozing, infected. His eyes trailed up to your collarbone and he was relieved to find the bones weren’t protruding the way they had been in the videos Hydra sent to the media in the months you’d been missing; ones that were confirmed to be you, at least. They’d been starving you at one point and you’d become weak and gaunt because of it. For some reason, they started feeding you again; well eventually, because muscle had started to build again on your bones.

Then, with bated breath, Bucky caught sight of your face; the face that calmed him, that soothed him just by walking into a room, and if he tried hard enough he could pretend you were sleeping, like this was just some mission gone wrong and you’d wake up soon with that sweet smile and a laugh that made his stomach weak and ask him what happened.

But he didn’t live in fantasies. He didn’t trust his reality to be anything but cold and cruel.

He could still see the faded outline of the scar on your cheekbone that had been present in one of the first videos. Without thinking, his right hand reached out and brushed a thumb across the faded scar, feather light movements, and your nose scrunched softly at the touch. Bucky pulled back instantly, flinching away like he’d burned you.

Clenching at his jaw, he slumped back into the seat, unable to tear his eyes away from you. Your eyes were still closed, still under the effects of the sedation, and Bucky sighed of relief. He knew there would be a time soon when you woke up, when you saw him sitting next to you, and he wasn’t prepared for that just yet.

He leaned forward, gathering your hand in his and he choked back a sob he hadn’t realized he had been on the verge of. He brushed his eyes with his wrist, pressing his lips carefully to your knuckles, an intimate gesture he only dared to do when you were asleep, when you couldn’t see how much he loved you, how much he had fallen for you, the feelings only growing the longer he knew you until they consumed him with a brightness he never thought he’d be privileged to again.

Hand pressed tightly in his own, Bucky leaned against the bed, his forehead against the edge of the cot. His eyes were heavy, his body tired and aching, and he wondered if he just closed his eyes for a minute, maybe then, he’d be ready when you woke up.

If he just closed his eyes for a minute...

This wasn’t Bucky’s first mission, not even with the Avengers. He’d been on reconnaissance ops with Sam, undercover at a dingy money laundering poker tournament in the basement of a Chinese takeout joint with Barton, halfway around the world fighting organized crime with Steve. He knew his place in the field, felt more secure there than almost anywhere else.

But this was his first mission with you.

You winked at him from your seat in the quinjet as it landed in an open field on the outskirts of Vienna, unfastening the buckles on your seatbelt and jumping up to gather your weapons from the wall. Bucky watched as you bounced with every step, excited almost, and he couldn’t suppress the smile on his face as you lit up the moment you caught sight of him staring at you. Bucky chuckled under his breath, trying to rid himself of the nerves, and removed his own restraints.

He’d been officially instated as an Avenger only six months prior and he still managed to feel like he fit perfectly in place by your side. You handed him his rifle and a handgun he strapped to his jacket without having to ask. You just knew.

Steve and Natasha had already taken off for the east wing of the building while Sam and Tony flew overhead to check for infrared and anything out of the usual. You and Bucky had been assigned to the west wing, tasked with downloading intelligence straight from the personal computer of the arms’ dealer you were ambushing. It was your specialty after all and Bucky was essentially the hired gunmen to watch your back. He didn’t mind. The idea of keeping an eye on you was one that helped ease the nerves in his stomach being in the field with you. This way, he didn’t have to trust anyone but himself to keep you safe.

“You know,” you said as you disembarked from the quinjet, shutting the hatch behind you and waiting patiently for Bucky to follow, “maybe when we’re done here, you’ll let me take you to that record store I was telling you about. Old man like you might like having a record player, huh?”

Bucky pressed his lips to a tight smile. “I think the Splatifly playlist is just fine, doll.”

“Spotify,” you corrected cheekily as you kicked in the door to the first floor. You took out a guard as he passed by with little hesitation, turning back to him with a grin. “Records just have a different sound, Buck, or did you forget?”

Bucky laughed, following close behind as you made your way down the hall, weapons raised. “You find a way to put that playlist of yours on a record for me and I’ll get a record player.”

“Buck,” you whined playfully and he took out a guy who turned the corner before you could spot him, “I can suggest albums for you too, you know. There’s a lot more music out there than that one playlist. Besides, I made it months ago at this point.”

“I don’t mind.”

Bucky shrugged, pushing past you to grab the door, giving you a quick signal before he yanked it open and you stepped through, taking out three men on sight while Bucky took out the remaining two. Bodies fell to the ground and you turned back to him with a pout.

“You must be bored of it by now. It’s outdated,” you continued, a hand perched on your hip and Bucky wondered if he ever saw anything as endearing and perfect as you. Holding a Glock in one hand, dressed in black Kevlar, with a grin as wide as your cheeks on your face; sweet and deadly, soft and lethal. He was more taken with you than he dared to admit.

“Yeah, well, so am I, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled as he shoved a body aside with his foot to clear a path for you to the computers. You followed behind him, grabbing a hold of his shoulder as you stumbled and brushed it off with a laugh and a flush in your cheeks.

You pulled the flash drive from your pocket. “I’m going to extract the intel. You want to double check the hallway?”

“You think I missed someone?” he teased, nudging you in the shoulder and the giggle that left your lips was the sweetest sound he ever heard.

“Course not,” you replied with a grin, “but I can't work with you hovering over my shoulder.”

“Naturally,” he agreed sarcastically, shaking his head as he stepped back to give you the space you needed. He watched from a careful distance as you kicked aside the rolling chair and typed away at the keyboard. Green lettering on black screen. Code he couldn’t begin to understand.

With one final check back to make sure you were clear, Bucky stepped out into the hallway. It was quiet, not a soul in sight. He straightened his back and pressed a finger to the com in his ear.

“Should be out soon,” he said into the mic, “Y/n’s abstracting the intel now.”

“Good work,” Steve’s voice replied, grainy and a little out of breath, “get out when you can. There’s more of their guys our way than we anticipated and – oomf!”

“You good?”

“Fine,” Steve grunted out. “Just finish up there so we can get out of this place, okay?”

Bucky laughed, turning to head back into the room. As he stepped inside, he saw the movement of the guard on the floor too late. You were at the computer, turning to face him with a smile on your face and the flash drive in your hand because you finished just in time, but the reflective edge of a knife caught your attention and there wasn’t enough time for you to pick up your gun or react before it was plunged into your stomach. You fell to your knees and something carnal and rabid tore through Bucky.

He rushed forward, yanking the guard away from you and firing the rest of his clip into the man’s chest before he kicked the body a good twenty feet away for measure. You were on the ground, legs too weak to hold you up, hands clutching at the blood gushing from your stomach.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Bucky cursed rapidly under his breath as his hands hovered over you, too afraid to even lay a hand on your body, terrified he might make it worse.

“That’s not good, huh?” you mumbled, words slurring, and Bucky looked up to your face in horror to find blood dripping from your lips.

He wanted to scream, wanted to give into the shaking in his hands and the fear paralyzing him, but he knew you wouldn’t make it if he did. The very idea made him sick to his stomach. So, in haste, he gathered you into his arms and held you tight against his chest, as he lifted you into the air.

“I need a med evac,” Bucky said into the coms, his voice unsteady, rushed.

“What’s going on?” Sam replied and Bucky couldn’t find the words to respond.

“Y/n’s hurt,” Bucky gasped out, his grip on you so tight he was sure he’d leave bruising behind, “I need— fuck! — I need a way out of here, now!”

“Head to the northwest exit,” Sam instructed, voice stern and calm, everything Bucky couldn’t be. “I’ll meet you there.”

Bucky nodded and he pushed his way out into the hallway, relieved to find it empty. He turned down a corridor and ran as fast as he could manage.

“Buck,” you gurgled, eyes falling heavy as you curled up against his chest.

“No! No, don’t you do that!” Bucky shouted, shaking you until you opened your eyes again. “You need to stay awake, you hear me? Don’t you dare close your eyes!”

You nodded sleepily, lulling your head against his shoulder. Panic lived in his veins and he was struggling to breath; not from the exertion but from the fear of losing you, of this being it. He couldn’t fathom it. He needed more time with you. Tears started to blur his vision no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay.

When he looked down at you, you were watching him, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“That’s right. Stay with me, sweetheart,” Bucky pleaded, “I’ve got you.”

He spotted the exit at the end of the hallway, the door opening on the other side and light seeping in. The end of the tunnel. He was so close, just feet away, and he glanced down at you to tell you just that, but your lids were falling shut, your head slumping against his shoulder, arm falling flatly by your side.

“Y/n! Wake up!” he shouted, desperate now as he reached the end of the hall. Sam stood on the other end of the door. Bucky shook you, but it did no use. “Come on!”

“Barnes, give her to me,” Sam requested urgently and Bucky only held you tighter against his chest. He knew Sam could get you to the help you needed, help Bucky wasn’t able to provide himself, and it took every ounce of strength he could manage before he passed you over. The weight of your body left his arms feeling cold and empty.

Sam didn’t waste any time as he took off into the air. He was reporting to Steve what was going on, where he was taking you, but Bucky could hardly focus. He was covered in your blood.

Sam managed to get you to the cradle on the quinjet and stabilized you while the rest of the team sprinted back. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes away from the machine the entire flight home; had Sam explain how it worked about twenty different times because he was terrified you were going to bleed out before they even got you home.

But by some miracle, you’d made it. Mostly. Dr. Cho had stitched up the wound and the fixed any damage beneath the surface, hanging a blood bag to replace what you’d lost. Your hand was clenched between his, pressed to his forehead as he leaned against the cot.

The moment he heard a groan pass your lips; eyes shot up at you to find you wincing as you came to. He released your hand before you could notice his hold on to. You laid eyes on him and relief seemed to pour through you and a smile grazed your face.

“Hey Buck,” you whispered, voice hoarse, and he nearly laughed through the lump in his throat. He grinned, reaching forward and brushing a hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You were warm under his touch and the smile that followed was enough to ease any pain he’d felt since you’d been hurt.

“Hey sweetheart.”

A soft rustle of a groan and Bucky snapped awake, jumping up from his position leaning against the bed, creases of the sheets on his cheek, as wide eyes locked upon you. A broken whimper cried from your throat as you scrunched your shoulders, head darting to the other side of the pillow. Your hand clenched in his, legs squirming under the sheets.

“Y/n?” Bucky called as gently as his could, caressing your hand and trying to ease the tension from your locked fist. Bucky leaned forward, using the cool side of his left hand to touch over your forehead, brushing away the beads of sweat that had formed while he slept. You were warm under the sensors of his metal plates and he gritted his teeth, looking to the hallway to see if Dr. Cho was nearby.

He wondered briefly if he should leave for just a moment, to find someone better than him who could help ease you through whatever was happening in your head, but the idea of stepping away, even for a second, was too painful.

You groaned, the soft ache of a tremor in your voice and Bucky watched with his heart in his throat as your eyes slowly fluttered open. You swallowed, breaths incredibly shallow as you looked around the room, staring straight ahead, your entire body stiff as a board. You didn’t seem to even notice his hand still wrapped tightly around yours.

He licked at his hips, unsure of what to say or how to shake you from whatever trance you were in, so he spoke a name that was familiar to you, one that he reserved only for you, hoping it might bring you back down from the clouds.

“Sweetheart?”

In sharp movements, you sprung up suddenly from the bed and Bucky dropped your hand in the shock of it. Before he could quite react, you’d thrown yourself off the far side of the cot, stumbling over to the counter, your grip on the surface barely able to keep you on your feet. You were struggling to stand, legs wobbling under you from the sedation, and your breaths were coming in fast, too fast, and he was sure you were on the verge of a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, hold on now,” Bucky urged, trying his best to stay calm as your hand slid over the counter, knocking various items to the ground in haste before you grabbed a tight hold of a pair of scissors. You spun around to face him, breaths panting, arms shaking, hair erratic, and you held out the sharp end of the scissors at him. Bucky threw his arms in the air defensively.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he begged, taking a careful step towards you only for you to jump back. He bit on his lip, pushing aside the awful pain in his stomach to watch you retreat from him in fear. You’d never done that before, not even when he’d been triggered into the soldier. He took a step back, away from you to give you space.

“Y/n, it’s me. It’s Bucky.”

You didn’t react, staring at him like he was something in your dreams.

“You’re safe,” he pleaded, a little desperate now, eyeing the scissors in your hand and wondering how fast he’d need to dive before you threw them at him. “You’re home. The whole teams been waiting for you to wake up.”

Your eyes darted around the room, like you were trying to catch your bearings, trying to recognize a familiar space, one you’d been in dozens of times before. Bucky took the risk of moving a step in your direction while you were distracted by the soft whites and greys of the med bay and you didn’t flinch on his approach. A steady breath in and he moved closer until he stood within your reach.

“I need you to give me the scissors, okay? No is going to hurt you,” Bucky said, his voice low and raspy from the lump burning in the back of his throat. He tried to still the shaking in his hand as he noticed tears welling in your eyes, glassy and red. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please, sweetheart. You know me. You’re safe here.”

His hand ghosted over yours, your grip weakening on the scissors as you stared straight ahead to his chest, unable to meet his eye. You were shaking, hands trembling, and Bucky was terrified.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He could barely hear his own voice as a tear slid down the side of your face, your jaw clenching so tightly muscles twitched through your cheek.

Slowly, your eyes trailed up his chest, until eventually you met his eye, filled with tears and bated breaths. You stared at him, eyes darting over his features like you were trying to convince yourself he was real, that this wasn’t a dream or a sick, twisted nightmare. Lips parting as if to speak, trembling as you struggled to find words, but eventually, in a raspy, broken sound, you choked out his name.

“Bucky?”

He closed his eyes for only a moment. The relief of your voice, even as shattered and numbed as it was, flooded through his body in warmth and solace and heaven. He nodded; his face wet with tears as a sob cracked through you, deafening and puncturing his heart through his chest. The scissors dropped from your quivering hand and the clash of metal against tile filled the room.

You threw yourself at him, arms crushing around his body as you dug your face into the crook of his neck, squeezing and pulling and unable to get as close as you needed even with your body flush against his.

Bucky didn’t know how to react, too stunned and feeling like he could wake up at any moment, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you as tight against him as he could manage. As you brushed tears against his neck and your back shook with sobs, Bucky kissed at your hair, trying to soothe you in the ways you knew so well to care for him, but he was never any good at this, not like you were. But he loved you and you were alive and in his arms, so he poured every ounce of his relief into his embrace.

“I’m here, sweetheart, you’re okay,” he whispered against your hair, trying to carefully guide you back to the bed when he felt your legs unsteady under you. You only gripped him tighter, like you were afraid he might leave, and it sent an awful pang to his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, love. I’m here.”

“I don’t--” you gasped against him, your breath warm against his neck and you didn’t dare pull away, “I don’t understand. I don’t-- I don’t know how I got here.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You don’t remember?”

You shook your head, your grip on him only growing tighter, like you were grounding yourself against him, tethering yourself to the Earth through his body to remind you of what was real. Wrapped so tightly around him, it hurt a little against his ribs, made it a bit harder to breathe, but Bucky would have scarified a lot more than his breath and mild discomfort to ease even an ounce of your pain.

“I-- I don’t know. I don’t-- there’s gaps,” you stuttered out, pulling away from him just enough for Bucky to see the hesitancy in your features, the confusion, and the fear. “I don’t know... I don’t...”

“It’s alright, doll, it’s okay,” Bucky cooed softly as he helped you back to the bed. You were getting lightheaded, delirious to the point of panic, your eyes falling heavy, and he needed to get you to rest before you hurt yourself.

With a steady hand, he eased you back onto the bed, sitting on the edge of the cot because you wouldn’t let his hand out of your grip and he had no intention of taking it from you. The more contact against you, the calmer you seemed. He kept his thigh pressed against yours, his hand intertwined in your own, metal digits running soothingly over your arm.

“We’ll figure it out,” Bucky promised gently, pushing out a soft smile for you. You nodded slowly, curling up in the bed and letting your lids close, too exhausted to keep them open any longer. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I'll find some answers for you.”

A soft groan vibrated through your chest in acknowledgement.

“Try and get some sleep,” he requested quietly, resting his feet on the chair beside the bed and settling in on the edge of the bed, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

It only took a few seconds before your heart rate settled down, the soft beeps of the monitor hanging above you pulsing at even, steady intervals, until your breaths became longer, calmer, and you’d fallen asleep, pulled back under the sedation in your bloodstream.

Bucky clenched at his jaw, trying to keep himself from giving into the sob slowly etching his way through his back, but it broke through him anyway. The relief of you being so close, the pain of knowing you’d been alive all this time, was too much for his body to handle and it flooded out of him in tears and gasps for breath and muffled cried as he tried to stay silent.

After he was able to calm himself again and the tears dried, he leaned forward and gingerly ran his fingers over the long faded scar on your cheekbone; the same one he saw the day the first video aired on the news. It was thick and raised under his fingers, still discolored and angry.

As he watched the careful rise and fall of your chest, the gentle vibrations of your breaths, Bucky found the questions surging in the back of his mind didn’t matter as much, not right now. Not as he held your hand in his, warm to the touch, and you lying so close to him. Nothing else mattered because you were here, you were alive, and he wasn’t going to let you go for anything.

Not again.

----

reunion!!! I know it’s been a long time coming and there’s a thousand unanswered questions, but stick around and I promise I’ll answer them before the fic is over :)

your comment and feedback mean everything so tell me what you’re thinking!

tags 🏥 @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts / @sarcastic-and-cool / @no-clue-whats-happenin / @capsgrl / @happyeyesandsunshine / @slithredn / @13sunken-ships13 / @thefandomplace / @wxstedhexrt / @jennmurawski13 / @galaxkay / @moonlessnight14 / @kittybritty7 / @sweetheartbarnes / @pancakefancake

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #guiding light

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imaginetonyandbucky · 3 years

Text

Keeping Me Alive

Chapter 9: Never Too Late

by @dracusfyre

The answer turned out to be six weeks. Six weeks of bluffing through phone calls, six weeks of faking it when Stane came by to check his progress, six weeks’ worth of “still trying to get the math to work out” and “unexpected difficulties.” He’d handed over the updated prototypes to the miniature arc reactor two weeks ago, though he’d made sure to transpose some numbers deep in the schematics to give them some trouble until they figured out the mistake. He could see the frustration growing on Stane’s face and in his voice, and each time it happened his stomach swooped with fear and he considered giving in. But each time he managed to kept his mouth shut; each time he told himself, maybe tomorrow, but not today. He knew he couldn't keep stalling forever though, and that knowledge was a lead weight in his stomach every time he woke up.

The night his time ran out, Tony was nursing a glass of whiskey and staring at the fire in the fireplace, thoughts far away. The sound of his door unlocking made him jump and his heart was still racing from adrenaline when he saw Stane open the door. It started beating double time when he saw that for the first time in weeks, Stane was in a good mood.

“Good evening, Tony,” Stane said cheerfully as he closed the door behind him.

Tony had to swallow twice before he could speak. “Stane,” he said, and set his whiskey down on the coffee table when he saw that his hands were shaking. Stane in a good mood was much more terrifying than Stane in a bad one.

“I just swung by to check in and see how you were doing,” Stane said, and Tony watched him warily as he approached, noticing that Stane hadn’t taken off his coat or his shoes, like he wasn’t planning to stay long. He had no idea what that meant, but a change in routine was never good.

“I sent an email update yesterday,” Tony said, and he had. He’d pointed out a lot of problems in the current suit design and had made suggestions while managing to not actually give any solutions. It had taken him hours to write something that spectacularly unhelpful and he had been perversely proud of it.

“Yeah, I saw that email,” Stane said, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at the fire as well. He picked up the poker and moved some of the logs around and the fire flared, reflecting red and orange on Stane’s skin. “But you know, when I was reading it, I kept getting the feeling that you were holding out on me.”

“No,” Tony said automatically, palms starting to sweat. “I’m not. I – I wouldn’t.”

“You see, that’s what I keep telling myself,” Stane said. When he turned to face Tony, the iron poker was still in his hand. Tony’s eyes fell to it and he swallowed thickly. He wanted to run, but his limbs were frozen as Stane came closer. “But then I think, Tony miniaturized the arc reactor after six months in a cave, something Howard couldn’t do in forty years.” Stane lifted the poker and set the tip of it against the arc reactor, pressing Tony back against the couch. He gasped at the pain and pressure as Stane started to lean on him, feeling like the arc reactor casing was squeezing the air from his lungs. “And this, this mechanized suit thing, isn't half as complicated as that. So I have to ask. Are you holding out on me?”

Tony stared up at Stane, who was looking down at him with a sort of patient indifference while Tony struggled to breathe. His breaths were coming fast and quick as he started to panic, and he kicked out at Stane, trying to make him back off. He grabbed at the poker and tried to push it away from him but Stane just leaned harder, the tip of the poker screeching as it etched a line in the protective glass of the arc reactor. Tony knew in that moment that Stane was fully prepared to kill him if he didn’t get an answer he liked and with that knowledge, he suddenly realized that he didn’t care. So he tightened his jaw against the pain, met Stane’s eyes, and stopped struggling. Kill me, he dared Stane with his gaze, since he couldn’t breathe to speak. Fuck you. I'd rather die.

And that was when Stane took a step back and threw the poker to the side, the ring of it against the marble floor echoing loudly. “I was afraid of this,” he said with a sigh. “Get up.”

As soon as the pressure was gone, Tony sat forward and curled over his knees, raggedly sucking air into lungs that felt bruised, each breath like a knife in his chest. Pain radiated out from the arc reactor, pulsing in time with his heart. He was staring sightlessly at the rug at his feet, spots crossing his vision as the need for air fought with the tight bands constricting his chest, when he heard Stane make an impatient noise and felt him grab the back of Tony’s shirt.

“I said get up,” Stane said irritably, pulling him off the couch. Tony staggered to his feet, hand on the arm of the couch as he steadied himself. “Let’s go. You need to see something.” He shoved Tony towards the door and Tony stumbled, almost falling on the way to Stane’s car, the concrete of the driveway scraping his bare feet.

“Where are we going?” Tony finally managed as the pain in his chest subsided to a dull ache.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Stane said. Tony sat very still and quiet in the passenger seat for the rest of the ride, fear keeping his throat closed tight as he tried not to draw Stane’s attention. It felt like another blow to the arc reactor would break him in half, split him open right down the middle like a log, and he wouldn't be able to keep from spilling every secret he’d been trying to keep.

After a few minutes of driving, Stane turned on the radio. The sound of a conservative talk show filled the dense silence in the car, an incongruous counterpoint to the tension that had Tony’s hands clenched into fists in his lap. They drove for over an hour before Stane pulled off the highway, then they spent another hour on back roads before pulling up to a back entrance of the LA port facilities. Stane showed his drivers license to the guard at the gate, and after studying it for a moment the man saluted and said “Heil Hydra” before buzzing them through. They parked at one of the dozens if not hundreds of anonymous warehouses that lined the shipyard, with only a number on the side of the building to distinguish it from the others. A keycode and fingerprint scan opened the door, which led to a blank hallway with a concrete floor and corrugated metal walls. The place was almost ominous in its banality. At the far end was another door, and Tony knew that whatever was on the other side of this was what had Stane in such a good mood.

“Here we go,” Stane said as he opened it. Tony reluctantly followed him through it, warily studying the room as he stepped inside. One side of the room was lined with hooks where body armor, helmets, and other gear hung, with a wooden bench lined up in front of a wall of lockers. In the far corner was a large munitions locker filled with rifles, handguns, and ammo cans. On the back wall of the room was what looked like an ancient upright hyperbaric chamber, rounded glass and blackened steel with a variety of cords and hoses running to it. Computers filled up most of the space in the middle along with a large metal machine, and on the third wall crates with the Stark Industries logo were stacked up almost to the ceiling.

And in the center of the room, Tony finally realized, sat the Winter Soldier. Tony felt his face go slack with shock, because this was the Soldier as Tony had never seen him: stripped of his weapons and bare-chested, no face mask or goggles. If it wasn’t for the metal arm Tony wouldn’t have even known who he was looking at, and the surprise seemed to short-circuit Tony’s normal seething hatred. The Soldier was sitting in a heavy metal chair that was haloed with some sort of machinery, staring straight ahead while white-coated technicians moved around him, checking the device and looking at something on the computers that were hooked up to the chair.

“Come on,” Stane said, and started towards him. When Tony didn’t follow, feet rooted to the floor with dread, Stane grabbed his arm and dragged him forward. They stopped about ten feet away from the chair, just far enough away that they weren’t going to disturb the work of the technicians but close enough that Tony could almost count the stubble on the Soldier’s jaw.

“Get a good look,” Stane said. He put his heavy, meaty hand on the back of Tony’s neck, keeping his head facing the Soldier, as if Tony could drag his eyes away from the man in front of them. As they’d approached, the Soldier’s eyes had flickered towards them, studying them. They lingered on Tony’s face for a long moment, and a slight line appeared between his eyebrows before he looked away. Tony noticed, incongruously, that his eyes were an icy blue, almost gray, but were strangely vacant as he stared across the room and ignored the activity around him, just like he always did with Tony. Without his normal tac gear, Tony could see that the metal of the arm went well into his chest; ropy, thick keloid scars marked the boundary between skin and metal.

That was also when Tony noticed the restraints on the Soldier’s arms, binding him to the chair.

“What-“ Tony started, but Stane squeezed him by the nape of his neck and shook him slightly to silence him.

“See, you seem to think death is the worst thing we can do to you,” Stane said into his ear. “Or torture. Pain and death, that’s all you think we can do. Kill you, kill your friends, blah blah blah. Right?” When Tony didn’t move, too stiff with fear, Stane put his hand on the back of Tony’s head and forced it up and down in a parody of a nod. “But it’s not. You see, with this machine, we can take your mind, pour it into a blender and,” at this, Stane got close enough that Tony could feel his breath, making his skin crawl, “pour whatever we want back in.” Stane straightened. “Watch.”

Stane went up the Soldier and took a chair from one of the technicians so that he could sit with his face level to the Soldier's. “What’s your name?” he asked him, and the man’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. After a moment he just shook his head. “It’s James,” Stane said. “Your name is James Barnes and you were born in Brooklyn, did you know that?” The Soldier shook his head again. Stane threw a smirk over his shoulder at Tony before turning back to the Soldier. “Mission report,” he ordered.

At this, the look of confusion cleared. “Level 9 target eliminated. All witnesses eliminated. Package retrieved. All combatants returned to extraction point with minimal injuries. No damage sustained to Hydra property,” the Soldier reported. His voice was softer than Tony expected, but gravelly with disuse.

Stane turned to Tony and said, “Did you want to ask him any questions?” When Tony only shook his head, Stane frowned. “Spoilsport,” he complained, but he stood and gestured for Tony to take his place in the chair. Tony stepped forward reluctantly, an awful sense of dread making his limbs heavy. It wasn’t cold in the room but Tony felt a chill anyway, almost deep enough to make him shiver.

“Stane, please,” Tony said, not even sure what he was pleading for. Stop. Don’t make me do this. He didn’t even know what was going on, but something was deeply wrong here and it was making Tony feel a bone-deep terror that he hadn’t felt since he’d woken up to see Stane at his kitchen table when he was 18 years old.

“Sit,” Stane ordered, and shoved Tony into the chair. Now Tony was close enough to see the darker line of blue that circled the Soldier’s irises and the chapped skin of his lips, the cleft in his chin and the straight line of his nose. The Soldier was staring at him, and once Tony met his eyes he couldn’t look away. “Do you know who this man is?” Stane asked him, and after a moment of hesitation, the Soldier shook his head. “This is Tony Stark,” Stane said. “Remember that.” As the Soldier nodded once, Tony heard Stane ask the technicians, “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir.” At that, one of them came forward and put a hand on the Soldier's shoulder, pushing him against the back of the chair. The machinery that surrounded the chair began to hum as it lowered into position. The whole time, the Soldier’s eyes never left Tony’s, which is why Tony could see the exact moment when the blankness sharpened and turned into fear as he realized what was happening. A bite guard was forced into his mouth, and Tony could see his hands clench into fists and strain against the clamps binding him to the chair. After a moment a headset came down to surround the Soldier’s head, forcing it back until he was looking at the ceiling. Until now, he had been almost completely silent, but as the machine whirred to life, Tony heard a strangled whimper and saw the Soldier try to flinch away from the metal that was covering his face. Tony closed his eyes and tried to turn his face away but Stane was behind him and forced his head forward.

“Watch,” Stane said. “Or I’ll make you flip the switch.”

Tony opened his eyes. A technician glanced towards Stane and must have gotten the go-ahead because he looked down at the panel in front of him and activated the machine. There was the sound of electricity buzzing and the Soldier jerked, screaming. The tendons of his neck stood out from the strength of his screams and they echoed off the metal walls, burrowing deep into Tony’s ears until he thought he’d hear the ring of them for the rest of his life. He watched as the Soldier's back bowed and his body convulsed, feeling like he was going to throw up. The sound of electricity cycled louder and louder, and the Soldier kept screaming even as his voice grew ragged, until finally the machine stopped and the room fell silent. The Soldier went limp, panting, as the headset lifted off of him and he was allowed to sit up again. His face was pale and his hair soaked with sweat, and he shivered in the aftermath, still twitching slightly.

“Hey,” Stane said, snapping his fingers at the Soldier. After a second, the Soldier focused his gaze on Stane. “What’s your name?” The Soldier's brow furrowed as he thought, and after a moment he shook his head. “What’s his name?” he asked, gesturing to Tony. The Soldier glanced at Tony, features blank with unrecognition. He shook his head again, and Stane slapped him. The sudden sharp noise made Tony jump. “I told you to remember,” Stane said sternly, and the Soldier swallowed but still shook his head after a long minute. “Fine. Give me a mission report.” The Soldier's agitation just got worse, and he shook his head again. “Release his restraints,” Stane told the technician, then took a pistol from the small of his back and handed it to the Soldier. “Now take this apart and put it back together.” Looking relieved to finally get an order he understood, the Soldier's hands flew over the gun, and in moments it was pieces, all the way to the hammer and slide release spring, then it was back together, locked and loaded. Stane smiled approvingly and said, “Now unless you can tell me what your name is, I want you to point the gun at your temple and-“

“Stane!” Tony shouted as the Soldier's hand started to move.

“Yeah, I think you get the point,” Stane said. He took the gun out of the Soldier's unresisting hands. “No use beating a dead horse.” With a painful grip under Tony’s arm, he pulled him out of the chair to stand facing him. “You do get the point, right?” Stane said, picking a piece of lint off Tony’s shirt and flicking it to the side. “If not, let me make it crystal fucking clear. If you think you can take your secrets to your grave, that you can defy Hydra and there’s nothing we can do about it, you’re wrong. All we gotta do is stick you in that chair, give you a few targeted pulses of electricity to your hippocampus and neo-cortex, among others, and you’ll do anything. I. Say," he said, finger tapping the arc reactor for emphasis after each word.

Tony stared at Stane and absolutely believed him. Whatever happened in that chair wasn’t just about pain, it was about erasing; whoever the Soldier was - James, if that was really his name and not just something Stane made up – had been before, Hydra had erased him so thoroughly that not even his name remained, just the Soldier. Tony tried to imagine the terror of that, of having his memories and his personality and his will taken from him, every bit of him laid bare while Hydra picked over what they wanted and discarded what they didn’t. “I understand,” Tony managed.

“Good!” Stane said with a smile. “So when I say, ‘design me a fucking mechanized suit, Tony,’ what are you going to do?”

“Design the suit.”

“Right answer.” Stane put his arm around Tony’s shoulders and led him towards the exit. “Let’s get you home.”

Tony was silent the whole way. Stane, on the other hand, was still in a great mood, switching talk radio for golden oldies and drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Tony only spoke when spoken to, giving only one word answers as Stane came inside for a drink and rambled something about the SI board of directors. He felt numb inside but forced himself to nod and answer in all the right places, until finally Stane tired of whatever game he was playing and left.

When the door finally closed behind him, Tony stood and went to the windows that faced out onto the ocean. Save who you can. Mourn who you can’t. Never forget, never forgive, and if you get a chance to escape, don't look back. Tony could still hear the Soldier's screams and see Stane’s smile, and as he stared at his reflection in the dark glass, he knew he was going to do something very, very stupid.

#tony stark #Bucky Barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron

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luna-rainbow · 3 years

Text

A meta on Steve, Sam and Bucky (part 1)

This is a meta - almost fanfic (?) - for myself to work through their dynamics (and vent my frustration how poorly they've built Sam's relationships with both these guys, as well as Riley). Part 1 covers events in The Winter Soldier. Told from Sam's POV.

My personal preference is platonic, but feel free to read into it what you will.

“It’s your bed, right?”

That was their first meeting. He’s seen the broadcasts of the disaster in New York. The descent of otherworldly beasts and the parting of the skies. Against all odds, this man’s team had won.

The guy has a memorial to his name in the Smithsonian. A legend during the war, and a legend now. He was personable, but also reticent, until Sam brought up the bed.

Steve nodded, "Like lying on a marshmallow, feel like I'm going to sink to the floor."

It was how they connected. He was unmoored, trying to find his new purpose, and they saw themselves in each other.

Sam ran therapy sessions now, but Riley's death still haunted him.

It had been a standard rescue op, something they could do with their eyes closed. They never knew there was danger until the RPG flew out of nowhere. All the evasion drills and emergency plans meant nothing as he vanished in the blast.

It was a rescue op that should never have gone wrong. Why were they not told? Why were they not prepped? He asked for answers and was ignored, and when he asked louder he was told to stop kicking up a stink.

He took Riley’s belongings to his home. Riley’s parents were still young, but looked like they had aged years since he last saw them. Riley had told them he was coming back, this last op was just a walk in. He had hinted that he had a partner and was looking to settle down.

They wanted to talk, even though the very memory was too raw for him to touch, but he could not leave them. He can't remember how he sat through the numbness as Riley’s mother talked about her child, as she went through his photo albums, as her smiles dissolved to despairing tears. “How did this happen? He said he was on his way home.”

The woman wanted answers, and so did he, but his next conversation with their superiors didn’t go so well. Frustrated by the empty consolations they kept feeding him, he snapped that he couldn't take his team and put them in danger again if they weren't going to sort their shit out.

They simply sat back and suggested, condescendingly, that perhaps he should indeed come off the field if he couldn’t keep his emotions in check.

He quit.

He stayed in DC because he didn't want to worry Sarah. She's pregnant and still working 7-day weeks to hold up the family business.

The sudden inactivity in his life made his days so much longer, and the nights endless. The bed was too soft. He was sinking but his feet cculdn't reach the ground. When he closed his eyes he saw the night sky showered with flaming shrapnel.

He got busy studying, then took up the therapy job. He was a pararescue and helping others is his calling, but this...while it was fulfilling, was never quite as invigorating as snatching hostages away from terrorists. But how could he fly again without trusting the people at his back? And he knew the military was too monolithic for one man to change.

When Steve turned up at his door and talked about Hydra's infiltration of SHIELD, Sam couldn't hold back anymore. He knew he was good at his job, and he knew no one else could make use of those wings as well as he does.

He decided to take his own advice. "Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back. It's our job to figure out how to carry it."

He thought the weight of Riley's death would be too heavy to take to the sky, but he was now ready to fly with it, and he couldn't sit it out when he knew he could be useful.

As they headed down the highway, they met the Winter Soldier - a masked, terrifying killing machine who had no qualms about the collateral damage to civilians as he tried to kill the two superheros.

Sam stopped the Winter Soldier from shooting Steve as the Captain stood frozen and aghast at the sight of the man's face.

"It was him," Steve said.

The Hydra assassin was Steve's best friend, but no longer recognised him.

Sam saw how close the assassin came to killing Steve, and reminded him, "Whoever he used to be, the guy he is now, I don’t think he’s the kind you save. He’s the kind you stop."

"I don't know if I could do that."

"He might not give you a choice. He doesn't know you."

Steve turned to him and said with certainty, "He will."

Sam knew what it felt like to be so close to saving someone. The night of Riley's death still replays, uninvited, in his mind. He could not stop wondering - if they had taken the mission a little earlier, not flown so low, had kept their eyes to their side... He knew if there had been any chance of stopping Riley from dying, he would seize it, so he could not push Steve to change his choice.

They lost contact with Steve when the Helicarrier exploded. For one long hour, Sam wondered if he should have spoken more firmly to Steve, should have given him clearer warning, should have told him not to hold any hope for "Bucky" - because the Winter Soldier did not hold back one ounce as he ripped through the airport and dismembered Sam's wings. If he had done more, could he have saved Steve? Could he have saved Riley?

Then they found Steve, battered, unconscious but alive. Against all of Sam's misgivings, the Winter Soldier did not kill Steve. Perhaps there was still something there under the efficient lethality - but if that was the case, how horrifying would it be for the man trapped behind it?

When Steve woke up in hospital, Sam could see the determination in his eyes. The man had found purpose, and he could not bring himself to dissuade Steve of it.

When he saw the file in Steve's hands, it was mere confirmation. "You're going after him?"

"You don't have to come with me."

"I know," Sam took a breath, "When do we start?"

#sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america: the winter soldier #catws #tfatws #captain america #cacw #meta #almost fanfic

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plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

The Same

James “Bucky” Barnes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2423 words

Warnings: Trauma, but should not be triggering.

Summary: Reader is a hydra super-soldier who Fury puts a kill order on, but Steve knows he has to stop it.

This started out as a Steve x Reader but when Bucky is involved, I can’t help myself.

Part 2

———————————————————————————————————

When they had first thawed you out, Fury wanted to put a bullet in your head and leave it at that.

You had been created and programmed by Hydra, so there was no way for them to know what kind of person you were. There was a possibility that you'd end up hurting someone, or worse.

However, as soon as the decision was brought to Steve, he knew that he had to put a stop to it.

You were a super soldier, a person who knew exactly what he'd been through. It didn't matter to him that you'd been created by Hydra, or that you could end up being bad.

The risk was worth taking.

He knew that he could help you, if Fury would give him a chance.

"Director, we need to talk" he started, barging into the man's office like it was no big deal at all. Typically, Steve was all about respecting the rules and regulations but this sort of thing was time sensitive.

There was no way he was going to let them execute you just because of what you were.

For all they knew, you'd been kidnapped and tortured just like Bucky had. There was a good chance that you were a good person who'd just been caught up in the wrong situation.

No one deserved to be punished for something they had no control over.

Fury had been expecting the intrusion at some point, knowing that Steve was going to reject. However, it was none of his business what they decided to do with you. It was way above his pay grade to worry about things like that.

"What is it Rogers?" Fury wondered, not even bothering to turn his chair to look at him. Instead, he just waited for the other man to speak, already having a pretty good idea about what he was going to say.

As soon as he gave the order, Fury was waiting for this conversation to find him.

"I have to talk to you about the kill order" Steve started. Usually, he was very careful and respectful when talking to Director Fury but now wasn't a time for that.

A life was on the line and Steve wanted to make sure that came through in his argument. Right now, all that mattered was keeping you alive.

Steve thought for sure that his statement was going to get a rise out of the other man. However, Fury didn't even bother to say a word. This was an order that he gave, and it wasn't to be questioned.

There was no way for S.H.I.E.L.D to know if you were a danger or not. They didn't know what you were programmed to do and they had no idea how to control you.

It was too great a risk to take.

"When I give an order, I expect you to take it" he started, almost expecting Steve to back down, though he should have known better. Rogers was a trained soldier, a man who followed orders without question.

Except when he felt that it wasn't morally right to do so.

It was his only flaw, but it also made him an excellent ally because he kept the avengers, and even Fury himself better than they would have been without him.

"I understand that, but you ordered an innocent girl's murder" Steve shot back, losing his patience more and more. He had witnessed Bucky's rehabilitation first hand.

He knew that no matter what you'd done, you could be better in this life.

Hydra had used you, they had brainwashed you and turned you into a machine. All you needed was for someone to remind you that you were still human.

"What would you have me do, Captain?" Fury wondered, finally turning to face him, his fingers rubbing up and down on his right temple as he fought a headache that threatened to develop.

The longer this conversation went on, the more he wanted it to end.

...But the Director had just given Steve a shot. All he needed was a chance to plead his case, and Fury had provided it to him on a silver platter.

"Let me scope it out first. Let me meet her, and if I think she's a lost cause, I'll put her down myself" he offered.

The words hung in the air for a few moments as Fury thought it over.

It could be dangerous, but on the other hand, Steve could clearly handle himself. There was just one problem-There was no way he'd be able to do it.

Even if you proved yourself to be a huge threat, there was no way that Steve Rogers, the boy scout that he was, would be able to go through with it. Luckily, Fury knew just the man for the job.

Finally, after what felt like years, Fury spoke.

"You can go, but you'll take Barnes with you" he ordered, pushing the button on his chair that opened the doors behind Steve, which he correctly took as his cue to exit.

While it wasn't ideal to expose Bucky to memories like that, things he'd buried long ago, he knew that Fury had a point. No one knew more about what you had been subject to better than Buck.

If you were dangerous, he would be the first to recognize the signs.

Now all he had to do was convince Bucky to go with him...which would either be very simple, or impossible. With a man like Buck, it was hard to tell.

"I said no" he repeated, towel-drying his hair, fresh out of the shower.

It didn't matter what Steve said, there was no way that he was going to go babysit some girl. In his opinion, it was better to just put you out of your misery.

Bucky knew how painful it was to have to try to live a normal life with all those nightmares and memories. He wouldn't wish it on anyone else, it was too messy.

As far as he was concerned, you were already dead...at least, whoever you were before, was.

"Come on Buck, she needs our help. You know that she can get better" Steve tried, practically pleading with his best friend to help him do this. He wasn't going to let you die, so you either had to live your life as the enemy, or they could try to rehabilitate you...

Like they did for Bucky.

There had to be another way.

And if there wasn't, then Steve would do what he had always done, and he would just make another way.

There were always choices.

"There's no such thing as better, I think you mean 'not worse'" he supplemented, smirking at Steve like it was a joke, though they both know it wasn't.

Regardless of that though, Steve knew that there was no way the two of them were going to let you die. You may have done some terrible things, but that wasn't who you were.

At the very least, they owed it to you to find out as much about you as possible before just slaughtering you.

"I meant what I said, now are you gonna help me or not?" he asked, knowing well enough that Bucky wouldn't refuse. The brunette didn't have it in him to let another person suffer as he had. If there was the slightest chance in hell that you could live a normal life, he would help you take it.

Though, all he could do was sigh at first.

It was a heavy sigh, the kind of sigh that held the burdens of several lifetimes but eventually he nodded. "Of course I'll help you, knuckle-head" he grumbled, following the other man out of the room.

Fury had decided to keep you locked in a private room in the medical bay, few people would have contact with you, which lessened the body count if you somehow found a way out of your restraints.

And of course, by restraints, he meant leather straps that held your wrists and ankles tight to the table and a muzzle that kept your jaw closed. You had been screaming and freaking out periodically since they woke you up and he didn't want anyone else to hear it.

However, that all ended today.

As soon as the door opened, your gaze snapped to both men immediately. You looked like a stray dog, with so much desperation and fear in your eyes. It broke Steve's heart to have to look at you.

But the affect that seeing you had on Bucky was somehow greater.

He had never seen another person in this position before, this position he had been in a million times before. It was earth-shattering, and it sent this wave of nausea through the man.

There was just no way to process what he was looking at.

Something Steve could tell right away.

"You alright? You can take a minute" he suggested, pointing toward the door directly behind him. Bucky was practically white as a sheet, something that was rare for him, so he agreed.

"Just get her out of those" he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he moved into the hallway. After you were free, he would be able to sit and talk to you like a normal person, but he couldn't handle that.

No one should ever have to be held like a caged animal.

Bucky didn't even know you, but as soon as he saw you, he understood why Steve had been so adamant about this whole thing. There was no way he was going to let anyone hurt you unless it was the only option.

Steve did as he was told, after watching Buck for a few seconds to make sure that he was okay. Once he was convinced that he was just composing himself, the blonde's attention was fully on you.

"Hi, I'm Steve...I'm here to help you" he started, taking a few steps closer to the hospital bed you were strapped to. You were understandably terrified of the man, but somehow, you knew he was telling the truth.

You had never met a man with such kind eyes before.

"Is that okay?" he checked, doing his best to keep you as calm and comfortable as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you.

All you could do was nod, but as soon as you did, he went to work on the strap that held your jaw closed.

This whole thing would be much easier if they could actually talk to you. While he was busy with all the latches that confined you, Steve heard the door open then close behind him.

However, he didn't turn around until he was finished with the job, knowing that it was just Bucky.

"You okay?" he checked, a hand falling on his best friend's back. Typically the touch would have bothered Bucky but he'd recently learned to get over all the trauma he'd associated with touch.

He was getting better at it.

Bucky only nodded, his eyes locked on you.

You were no longer wearing the muzzle, nor were your limbs secured to the table but you made no motion to move or speak. You simply sat there, staring at the wall in front of you.

It brought back so many memories for Bucky, sitting in that damp basement, all the electricity frying his mind. He had been so alone, but you weren't alone anymore.

You had people, people who were willing to do anything for you that would make this whole process easier.

"What's your name?" he asked, stepping closer to you. Subconsciously, Steve stepped out of the way, sensing the connection that you two shared that he couldn't reciprocate. This was going to be a process for all of you, and you all had to play your own roles.

Right now, it was clear that Bucky needed to talk to you in only the way someone with shared experience could.

"Y/N, where am I?" you wondered, voice quivering. He couldn't tell if it was out of fear or because you hadn't spoken in a while, but it didn't really matter. Bucky wasn't bothered by the difficulty, in fact, he was impressed.

He hadn't actually been expecting you to talk to him.

"Give us a minute Steve?" he asked, a silent question deeper under the one he asked. Nevertheless, Steve only nodded, stepping out for a second to give the two of you the privacy his friend needed.

This was a very delicate topic and it was just easier if you only had to worry about one person, rather than two. In your position, he assumed that two large men would be kind of intimidating and scary.

"You're safe, my name is James. You can call me Bucky if you'd like" he started, taking a seat on the end of the hospital bed. It was close enough for him to be at your level but not so close as to make you uncomfortable.

You nodded, your breath hammering in your chest as you looked around the room. You took in your surroundings, though you didn't leave your eyes off him for too long.

"Do you remember anything?" he whispered, doing his best not to remember his own trauma. Surprisingly, focusing on you made it easier.

He was much more concerned with your well-being than his own, which was nice. He only wished that it didn't have to be under such circumstances.

"Screaming, their begging is so loud" you whined, as if the voices in your head were causing you physical pain. It had happened when he woke up too, all the memories came flooding back all at once.

It was hell on earth.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm the only one here" he assured, reaching out slowly to take your hand in his own. Your hot flesh was met with the cool sting of the metal, which instantly captivated your attention.

If he had been thinking clearer, he wouldn't have touched you with his metal arm, but what was done was done.

"What happened?" you wondered, touching the appendage with feather-light touches. You could hardly breathe, slowly inching the contact up until you met the place where the metal made contact with his flesh.

It was mostly scar tissue at this point, but he still flinched slightly at the touch.

It took everything in his power to say it but after a deep breath, the words fell from his lips.

"I'm like you, we're the same"

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky x ps reader #bucky barnes x ps reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #james buchanan barnes x ps reader #james buchanan barnes x plus size reader #marvel #marvel x plus size reader #marvel x ps reader #Avengers #avengers x plus size reader #avengers x ps reader

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littlesliceofmarvel · 5 years

Text

Nice Try, Losers

Request/Synopsis: Reader is on the phone with Steve while he’s staying at the compound and while they’re talking, a couple Hydra agents break in and try to kidnap her.

Warnings: Language, violence

Pairings: Steve x Reader

A/N: I’m currently working on another fic at the same time as this so that’s why I’m publishing this one first, but the next one is coming soon! As always, gif isn’t mine (credits to the owner) and my inbox is always open! x

“He didn’t!” You gasped, laughing at the story your boyfriend was telling you over the phone as you sat yourself down on the couch, ready to fold some laundry. You muted the TV, the news channel could have nothing to say that you would deem more important than listening to his voice.

“He did, Barton was pissed,” Steve replied, a small chuckle in his voice as he told you the story of Tony pranking Clint - again. You loved hearing about what was going on in his life as an Avenger, and even though you hated that he was always away, you were so proud of him.

“I mean, that’s understandable,” you smiled, folding a pair of pants and leaning back on the couch, leaving the rest of the laundry until later, Steve taking all of your attention. He had been staying at the compound for about two weeks, and even though he called you everyday, sometimes twice a day, you missed him so much. Your bed felt empty, the apartment was quiet, and you started running out of ideas of what to make for dinner, Steve always wanting to spoil you by doing the cooking.

“So, anyways, how was your day, darling?” He asked softly and you could hear a door close on his end, letting you know he was probably off in his room to be alone, letting the two of you talk privately.

“It was alright, I took Mrs G’s dog for a walk,” you answered and you could practically hear Steve smile. Your neighbour, Mrs Gregory, was this lovely 80 year old woman who had a gorgeous golden retriever named Sandy, and she was too old to take her for walks, so you volunteered and did it for her everyday, and she would bake you cookies in return, “I also taped the latest episode of the Bachelorette, aren’t you excited to catch up when you get back?”

Steve chuckled, “Oh, yay, I can’t wait,” the sarcasm in his voice making you grin, looking out the window to where you could see the beautifully lit up Stark Tower, making you miss Steve even more.

“When do you get back?” You asked quietly, “Just out of curiosity.”

You heard Steve sigh, “Fury says proba-”

Steve’s voice was cut off by the sound of your front door breaking down. You jumped up off of your spot on the couch, dropping your phone as you turned to face where the noise came from. Three men wearing full body bullet proof suits and masks came charging in, two of them had guns but not the third guy. You could feel your entire body freeze as you stared down the barrel of the machine gun, knowing all colour had gone from your face. You could hear Steve shouting for you over the phone but you were too frozen to do anything.

“We got her,” one of them said, their deep voice making you snap out of your terrified trance. You still stood next to the couch, not moving, but oddly enough, none of the three men were moving either, and you wanted to take advantage of that.

“Who the hell are you guys?” You asked, keeping your voice super steady as you reached your foot under the couch, trying to find the gun Steve hid under there for emergencies. You moved as slow as possible, not wanting to gain attention to what you were doing.

“Hydra, sweetheart,” the guy without the gun said once again, making you think he was probably the leader of this little clique. You had a feeling they were Hydra from the moment they broke in, their outfits were a bit of a dead giveaway. Which got you thinking, how did these guys even make it past the security desk downstairs? Your blood ran cold at the thought that they probably knocked out or killed the sweet old man who worked at the desk and you felt your blood boil.

“Of course you are,” you quickly leaned down, grabbing the gun from under the couch, and rushed back up, pointing it at the guy in the middle. The two guns were immediately much closer to your face as the guy in the middle let out a long sigh.

“We need to bring her alive, Rogers won’t come looking for her if she’s dead,” he said and you took that to your advantage, realizing they weren’t here to kill you, and shot the guy in the kneecaps, making him fall to the ground in an agonizing cry of pain. You were about to do the same to the other two men, but when you pulled the trigger, nothing came out. You dropped the gun and charged, the guy on the left shooting at you by missing by a couple of inches.

You found yourself between the two men, and turned to the one on the right. You grabbed hold of his gun and twisted, kneeing him in the guts, then in the sensitive area between the legs before he leaned over, causing you to grab the gun out of his grasp and launch it backwards, knocking the other standing agent in the face with it as he leaned against the wall, holding his cheek. You turned back to the other guy and grabbed a hold of the back of his head and pulled his face down to meet your knee, causing a crunch to sound throughout the apartment as you could feel his nose break. You lifted your knee once more to meet his face and he let out a cry of pain before falling over, leaning against the wall, blood dripping down his face.

You turned back to the guy you hit with the gun and lifted your leg, kicking him in the kidney, and pulling his gun out of his grasp, pointing it in his face, and then down to the guy on the floor whose kneecaps you shot.

“I suggest you get the fuck out, sweetheart,” you spat, motioning the gun to the door, causing the guy on the floor with the bloody face to nod, scrambling out the door. You figured Hydra probably sent their weakest men, there was no way you could easily take down three assassins that easily.

The guy with the shot kneecaps gave you a glare, starting to stand up, grabbing a knife from inside his jacket, but you used the butt of the gun and knocked him over the head with it, causing his body to fall limp on the floor, blood coming out and staining your beautiful hardwood floors.

The other conscious guy started to approach you, but once you turned to point your gun at him, his eyes widened and he started stepping out the door.

“Hey!” You shouted and he turned around, “Bring your friend with you, yeah?” He nodded vigorously and picked up the body on the floor, slinging him over his shoulders as he made his way out of the apartment.

“Nice try, losers,” you flipped them off before shutting the door, locking it behind you as you went to sit on the couch, wiping the blood off of your knuckles, picking up your phone which showed Steve was surprisingly still on the call, wanting to figure out what was going on.

“Hey, sorry about that,” you said once you picked up the phone.

“Y/N? Oh my god, wh-” he took a deep breath, “What the hell happened? I heard gunshots, and yelling, I - I was so worried, Fury is on his way. Are you okay, baby?”

You giggled at his rambling, “I’m alright, they’re not though, I took care of them.”

Steve let out the biggest sigh of relief you’d ever heard, “Shit, I was so worried about you, I - I didn’t know what to do, my god.” You could hear him sit down on the other end of the line, probably because he was pacing around the whole time he didn’t hear your voice. Steve knew you could handle yourself, he let Natasha train you once the two of you started dating so you could handle situations like this, but he never wanted you to actually have to use them. He was filled with guilt knowing he couldn’t be there to always protect you.

Like Steve had said, Fury burst in the door two seconds later, gun raised, but lowered it once he saw you sitting on the couch, unscratched, and phone in hand, giving him a small wave.

“Hey, Fury,” you smiled, both acknowledging his presence, and letting Steve know he was here.

Fury walked over to you, looking slightly surprised as he tucked his gun away, looking down at the smeared blood on the floor, “So, didn’t need backup, huh?”

You smirked, shaking your head, “Guess not.”

Fury nodded and explained to you that for your safety and to ease Steve’s conscious, he was going to bring you back to the compound to stay until he could return home with you, and you agreed. You told Steve you were on your way and packed a bag quickly, and rushed downstairs to meet Fury in a large black SUV. Within seconds, you guys were off to HQ. The whole time, you thought about why these guys wanted to use you to get to Steve. Of course, Steve would look for you non-stop if you were kidnapped, but why now? Hydra had a weird way of working.

Once you showed up, Steve ran up to you, engulfing you in a huge hug, making you drop your bag as he scanned every inch of your face and hands, making sure you had no injuries.

“I told you, I’m okay,” you laughed as he started placing small kisses all over your face, holding you tight. Fury excused himself awkwardly, leaving the two of you alone to be with each other again.

“I know, I was so worried, though,” he pulled away and looked into your eyes, making your heart do a summersault, “I love you.”

You lifted yourself onto your tippy-toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you too, Rogers.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers one shots #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america imagines #captain america imagine #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #avengers

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imaginesmai · 5 years

Text

Bucky Barnes-A lash for a dog

Requested by @witch-of-letters! You wanted angst, here it is! I know it’s not exactly what you wanted, but I needed to write this for a long time, I hope you like it! Thanks for the request.

Plot: after a failed mission, things only gets harder.

Warnings: HYDRA, torture, angst.

Bucky woke up with a groan, the world around him becoming more and more real. He felt the hard concrete of his cell on his good arm, the small stones that he had dragged from the battlefield still present. Although he knew he was physically okay, his mind was another story.

There were bits here and there of what had happened. Simple mission, or so he thought; killing the senator and his daughter before they had a chance of leaving the country, without witnesses. Bucky remembered almost everything, except for the explosion and the blinding pain on his side, that had made him black out.

It wasn’t a problem, because the handler had already healed him for sure. Hydra didn’t want a wounded soldier. Also, he had fulfilled the mission; he could see the terrified eyes of the girl as she was electrocuted alive, and the senator begging for his life before being shot between the eyes. Everything had been going on just fine, so Bucky couldn’t understand why there was a nagging feeling on the back of his mind that told him something was very, very wrong.

He hated how quickly his enhanced metabolism burnt through drugs sometimes. If he counted, he stayed down for less hours every time he was knocked down after a mission. That time he could still feel the sunlight from the small window, sign that it hadn’t been too long since he passed out from the needle.

Then, he saw you. And the winter soldier begged Bucky not to scream in panic. Because what was wrong, was that you had lost control of your powers and had made a whole central blow up. It had been your first mission without the neutralizers that kept your powers at bay, and it had gone horribly gone. Bucky knew what happened when one of you messed up, and he didn’t like it.

“Y-Lynx” he caught himself before saying your real name. If they knew, he would be put back in the chair.

Bucky reached over, slowly, to gingerly sit you up. Your body was still out cold, and he was too weak to move you to the bed. He checked for any head wound before propping you against the wall of the cell. He unzipped your tactical suit and watched as your chest rose and fall, relief washing over him.

As he waited for you to wake up, he looked around. Nothing but the brick walls and concrete floor, high ceiling and heavily locked door, stared back. He leaned back next to you, absentmindedly gripping your wrist and looking for your pulse. Bucky tried to listen to anyone outside. They would be coming, he wasn’t that dumb. Years of captivity made him understand that they were always there; not to close, but never too far.

“Damn”

Bucky’s head turned to your direction when you complained. You were opening your eyes and blinking groggily, reaching up to rub your temples. A panicked expression appeared on your face when you felt your hand trapped, afraid that you had been put in the chair again. But it was only Bucky, who let you go with apologetic eyes.

“I-What has happened?” you asked, rubbing your wrist.

“You lost control. I don’t remember much, but something happened and you lost control. They’re yet to come”

Actually, he didn’t mean to sound angry. That was what Hydra wanted, to make you fight each other until there was only one left. How could Bucky hate the love of his life, who had searched for him in the snow until she was captured too? No, Bucky wasn’t angry at you, just scared. Really scared.

“Oh” you sucked in a breath and looked down at the floor, not wanting to meet Bucky’s eyes. “I’m sorry”

“Don’t be. The mission is finished”

“No, I’m sorry Buck. I didn’t-“

“Don’t call me that”

There was pure terror on his eyes as he growled, the plates of his metal hand rotating. He had learned the hard way that you weren’t allowed to remember. To love each other, you weren’t allowed to be the person you used to be. Just machines that worked good together.

“And what should I call you? Asset?” you frowned. “I don’t-you’re not asset!”

The frustration dripped down your words, and after a sigh, you told Bucky what happened back in the mission. They were nothing more than hushed whispers, but you both knew that they were hearing you. What really creeped you out was that they didn’t come. Not yet.

Not even when you told Bucky about the skinny small boy you remembered when you were entering the van, newspapers on his shoes and blue eyes as the sky. His name was something that started with S, though you couldn’t place a finger on it. Abusing your electric powers for so long had been your reasoning until the end of the mission, when the memory came back and you saw yourself, Bucky and that boy in a diner, dancing the night away.

Memories were always something painful to bring up, the man who controlled made sure of that. You had lost control of your powers when you almost smelt the smoke of that diner, and Bucky became worried because that was too specific to be solved with just a chair.

“I don’t know what I’m sorry for” you explained, knees tucked under your chin. “But I’m not sorry for screwing their mission”

Bucky was going to talk when the handle was pushed down, and the door swung inward. A man stepped in, looking aggravated at the sight of the two sat against the wall. A smaller one walked behind him, an apologetic shutter falling of his mouth. Bucky winced when he saw how much darker the man’s expression was compared to the usual one, and he was only looking at you. You didn’t flinch.

“… fault! I promise I didn’t leave my place, and Robin activated the knock out button as soon as we noticed! B-but the girl is too explosive, and without the neutralizers-“

“The bitch got wild, hm?” the man interrupted bitterly. “When I ask for a perfect job, I mean me not having to pick up broken pieces. The explosion sure seemed like a broken piece.”

“S-sir, we did everything we could!”

The body hit the ground as soon as the words were out, and Bucky followed it with unresponsive eyes. He didn’t care about death, he wasn’t sure if there was a time of his life where he cared. Only thing he cared was about the man in front of him, who took two threatening steps forward.

“My son- he got a dog. It’s one of those small fuckers that bark and shit a lot. It’s actually really noisy, but I allowed him to have it because he was happier with it” the man started, kicking a stone on the ground. “It’s same with you, girl. You make me happy, I keep you. Even if you’re an annoying bitch who doesn’t know how to behave!”

Spit flew through the air and landed on your face. Bucky saw how your left eye twitched, yet you didn’t move to remove it. It would had been another mistake to the list, and he was glad for it.

“I-damn, I’m sorry. It’s just-I was excited! I wanted this to go right, neutralizers are something really expensive! But I guess you can’t take a dog without her lash out unless you train her well.”

Bucky had always thought the handler was a little mad. He didn’t know if he had a name, family or a job, only that it was better to stay out of his way. That man treated people as dogs, as possessions, and Bucky could only duck his head down and contain his anger at his words, for yours and his own good.

Don’t draw attention to yourself.

That was what he had learnt over the years in Hydra. As long as you weren’t in the room, look down and keep your mouth shut. As long as you weren’t in the room, accept everything coming your way and don’t show any discomfort. As long as you were in the room, all those rules were nothing, and Bucky gritted his teeth when the man crouched down.

But he was only considered an asset, a weapon, and wasn’t sparred a second glance.

“I don’t like when you mess up with my things, girl” the man said, almost achieving to look sad. “I know- look, this is hard. I get it! Getting your brain placed into a blender each month is not cool. But look at the asset! He doesn’t mind giving a hand to us”

As if it was the funniest thing in the world, the man started laughing. Bucky was more than okay with people talking about his metal, or lack, of arm. Talking back wasn’t worthy, he only wanted to go back to the hard mattress and close his eyes; and maybe, think about that skinny boy that rang some bell.

His thoughts were fast, and so was the spit that hit the floor and the metal handcuffs chaining him to the floor.

The man’s eyes deepened as you challenged him silently, and then he swivelled around, leaving the room. Briefly. Because after a few seconds, he appeared again and gripped the end of your undershirt. It took you by surprise, the previous use of your powers leaving you as defenceless as a baby.

“No! Let go! Let her go!” Bucky screamed, and the cuffs actually cracked under his strength.

You were pinned against the wall with a grunt, so out of it that you couldn’t struggle when a black collar was clasped around your throat. A mechanical lock clicked into place with a pop and Bucky kicked his legs desperately.

“What are you doing?!” he preferred the chair. He preferred the chair. The chair.

The collar wasn’t tight, but you tried to yank at it and pulled an uncomfortable face, as if it was merely an itchy sweater and not a menacing contraption of thick metal. The handler stepped back to admire his work, a sickening smirk on his lips.

“Now you’re really a dog”

The man pulled something out of his pocket, and Bucky watched as he fiddled with a dial, then pressed a small button. From beside him, you let out a horrible chocked-off gasp, and then fell forward until Bucky could see the glint of sweat in your cheeks. Your hands scrabbled up to the collar, nails digging into your skin.

Bucky moaned pitifully when he saw the metal squeezing your skin, tighter than what could possibly be safe.

“Stop it! Stop! She’s not breathing! The chair, use the chair” he screamed, but the man didn’t care. Bucky could even make out the silhouette of his hand rubbing himself through his pants, getting off by the suffering.

“My good dog”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first hour was the worst. The handler was out and the collar was mildly loose. Bucky was set free and allowed to hold you. He discovered that, if he tried to take it off, it would tightened again against your pale neck, so he just held you while you regained your breath.

Bucky saw your arms wild, nails ripping the skin off your neck and you jerked back and forward in shock. Eyes rolled back until almost the limit, blue lips and pale face. He heard your wheezy breaths, your choked and gargled screams as the people behind the door laughed merciless. Some of them made bets, did nasty comments of how a good girl you were and mocked Bucky for how caring he was with you. All of that while your body buckled widely, the collar lever changing and compressing your neck.

By hour three, your face was a horrible shade of purple, and your eyes were squeezed shut. Tears streamed down your face and your lips were parted in a silent scream, as the collar squeezed all the possible pathways for air to get into your lungs.

He is blonde

The man had jammed a finger into a hook in the collar, and used it to haul you to your knees and ‘take you for a walk’. There were bruises and stones on your knees, Bucky could take care of that. He cleaned them while muttering the same sentence.

He was small, but then got big

You had gasped and heaved for air, and had gripped so hard Bucky’s shoulder that the material of his suit was ripped. He didn’t care about it. The feeling of the open wounds of your nails hitting the wall felt nice. It made him forget about the fear and focus on the memory.

His name is Steve. Steven Grant Rogers

He was growing more and more frightened for every single breath that you barely took. The collar got tighter with the seconds, and even if he knew they wouldn’t kill you, he was terrified. And angry. He chose to ignore your blue tinted lips, sheet white forehead and ashy cheeks, and thought about Steve.

Fought in the WW2. With us. He’s great. He’s my friend.

You were asphyxiating, slowly, and Bucky wasn’t sure if it was a punishment for him or for you. Having you between his arms, the cocky attitude long gone, was his worst nightmare. The collar snapped to a size so narrow that it completely obliterated the delicate breathing tubes and windpipes inside your neck.

Steve is good. Steve is your twin brother. He loves you. He loves us

One of your hands dropped to the floor from his chest, and it made a soft slapping noise, as if you wanted to tell him something. Bucky closed his eyes and forced the tears away. He could throw up. The shade of your cracked drying lips, the ones that he kissed when he thought no one saw, made Bucky’s heart feel like it was being squeezed by a collar on its own.

Steve is going to get us out of here

Your fingers outstretched on his knee, and he rushed to lock his own with yours. You gripped them painfully. The unmistakable gesture that held so much desperation and meaning. Bucky let the first sob out, the first crack into his soul. He wished the winter soldier would come back, and that Bucky was buried with the feelings.

Steve is going to save us

He kept your head lifted at the right angle, with a hand under your chin. Problem was, he could see your glossy eyes boring into his soul. Bucky pressed his cheek against your temple, and chocked again.

It was a game; he tightened, he squeezed. Like a owner who put a collar and a lash on his dog.

He’s going to save us

A memory of a man with a blue suit. Laughing with an arm around your shoulder, pushing Bucky joking and closing his eyes against the sun.

Bucky swore that he would get you out of there. As the winter soldier, or as Bucky Barnes. It didn’t matter how many times his head was put into the blender. He was going to save you. And wouldn’t rest until then.

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

ONE HUNDRED FOUR - THE BATTLE CONTINUES

LEGACY: A Tony Stark Daughter Story

MASTERLIST

< previous

Word Count: 1,425ish

Summary: Everyone’s fighting their hardest to defeat Thanos’ army.

~~~

Once Thor had freed us, we continued on fighting. Out of no where, images started flashing through my mind, causing me to collapse onto my knees on the ground.

“Bailey!” I heard both Bucky and Steve shout.

A giant purple man, who could only be Thanos, fighting off Iron Man, Spider-Man, Doctor Strange, and others. They were attacking him from all sides, using the portals Strange creates to attack him.

As I was kneeling on the ground, Steve and Bucky came over to cover me.

“Bailey!” Steve tried to get my attention as he fought off the onslaught of creatures.

“You need to block them out! No matter what’s happening!”

“I’m trying!” I painfully responded. I used all the strength I could mentally muster up to block them out. Steve helped me up and as he’s did so, accidentally pressed the button on my bracelet and my suit formed around me.

“Well that will make me feel somewhat better,” he said.

I forced my helmet to disappear. “I’m sure that you did that on purpose,” I teased as I shot the creatures that were coming up from behind him.

“You’re injured.” He reached up to touch the dried blood on the side of my face.

“I heal, remember?” We moved back into the middle of the battle, joining Thor and his tree friend.

“New haircut?” Steve panted as he asked Thor.

“Notice you’ve copied my beard,” Thor grinned as he mentioned to his beard. Steve nodded wearily as he gestured at his own face.

“And Lady Bailey, sure is nice to see your skills on the battlefield.”

“Likewise, Thor!” I shouted as I continued fighting off the creatures. “It’s been awhile!”

“It sure has. By the way, this is a friend of mine, Tree,” Thor gestured to the tree that was currently impaling three of the creatures with his branch of an arm.

“I am Groot!” The tree snarled.

“I… I am Steve Rogers.” Steve pointed to himself, still panting as he spoke.

I simply rolled my eyes and kept on fighting. These creatures were seemingly coming out of no where, they were never endless. Like, when you killed one, two more would take it’s place. A shiver ran down my spine as HYDRA’s motto bounced around my head. I was taken out of my thoughts when the ground began to shake and a rumbling could be heard coming from the tree line beyond the barrier. I looked up to see sets of massive, motorized spiked wheels coming out of the trees and heading our way.

“Fall back! Fall back now!” T’Challa shouted.

We all began to fall back, but continued fighting until Wanda appeared in front of the spiked wheels and lifted them off the ground.

“Guys,” Sam tried to get our attention from over the comms. “We got a Vision situation here.”

“Somebody get to Vision!” Steve shouted.

“I got him,” Bruce replied. Finally figuring out how to use his thrusters, he made a beeline for Vision.

“On my way,” Wanda also replied but was stopped.

I looked over to her and noticed that the female alien had cornered her. Seeing that Nat and Okoye were on their way to her, I put my helmet down and flew towards Vision’s location. Bruce called for more back up just as I arrived. I could hear him trying to change into the Hulk as I charged at the alien, shooting him in all the places that seemed to be his weak spots. Bruce jumped up and tried to deliver an effective punch to the alien but the blow was caught by the alien. The alien punched back, knocking Bruce to the ground. The alien changed his armor to a pointed weapon and lunged for Bruce.

“Bruce!” I shouted, noticing one of the Hulk buster arms detached near him. “The hand!” Bruce grabbed the detached arm out of the water, impaled the alien, and then slapped the controls.

“See ya!” Bruce said.

The repulsers in the Hulk buster arm fired, taking the alien high into the air. He got dragged against the forcefield until the arm exploded, killing the alien with it.

“Hulk, we got a lot to figure out, pal,” Bruce sighed.

“He’s terrified,” I said. “I’ve felt it.”

“You what? Bailey, what exactly are your powers?”

I flew off to find Vision fighting another alien, one that I hadn’t seen before, before Bruce could question me anymore. The alien plunged his blade into Vision again. I began shooting at the alien, but I got thrown back, my body hitting hard against a rock.

“I thought you were formidable, machine,” The alien taunted Vision. I tried to get up, but my head was spinning. “But you’re dying, like any man.”

He yanked the blade out and Vision collapsed. Before the alien could get his fingers around the mind stone in Vision’s head, Steve tackled him at full speed.

“Get outta here!” Steve shouted at Vision as he exchanged blows with the alien. “Go!”

I painfully watched as Steve kept blocking the aliens blows with his shields. Soon after the alien’s staff was knocked out of its hands, Steve was thrown over a fallen tree and pinned, the alien’s hand at his throat. Even with his enhanced abilities, Steve was struggling until Vision pierced the alien with its own blade. Vision dropped the alien’s corpse before exhaustedly collapsing himself.

“I thought I told you to go,” Steve said as he helped Vision back up.

“We don’t trade lives, Captain,” Vision used Steve’s words against him.

As I tried to stand up, images bombarded my vision and I collapsed to the ground once again. Tony was taking on Thanos, basically by himself. I watched them fight back and forth, Tony’s suit taking the biggest hits of all and slowly falling apart. Tony used what’s left of his right glove to form a short sword, which is easily caught by Thanos. He snapped if off clean and drove it through Tony’s left side.

I gasped as the tears streamed down my face. “Dad!” I accidentally shouted in fear over the comms.

I watched Doctor Strange hand the time stone over to Thanos before the images faded.

My helmet disappeared and I saw Steve running towards me. He knelt down, grabbed my shoulders and tried to shake some sense into me.

“I told you to block them out!” Steve frantically said.

“I… did…” I panted. “He… D-dad…”

“Is he alive?” I didn’t answer, too concentrated on trying not to have a panic attack. Steve shook me a bit again. “Bailey, is Tony alive?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know…” I looked up at Steve with tearful eyes. “I don’t feel him anymore… The connection broke once he was— stabbed… Oh my gosh! He was stabbed!” Steve helped me up to my feet before holding me against his chest as I failed to hold back a few tears. “Thanos is only missing one stone now.”

“We’re going to stop this. We have to.”

Wanda finally showed up and rushed towards Vision. Steve and I turned to watch their exchange, still keeping our arms securely around each other. It was hurting me to see the two in so much pain. They deserved to be happy. We all did. And Vision never asked to have the mind stone in him.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked. Vision seemed to flinch in pain before he could answer. “What? What is it?”

“He’s here,” Vision stated. The wind picked up and the air around us felt, strange. Eerie, even. Steve let me go and looked around, putting a finger to his comms.

“Everyone, on my position,” Steve commanded. “We have incoming.” He turned to me with worried eyes. “You need to go.”

I quickly shook my head. “Not a chance. It’s too late.” We were joined by Nat, Sam, T’Challa, and Okoye before he could respond.

“What the hell?” Nat questioned.

Blue-black clouds appeared before Thanos stepped forward through them.

I instantly went into his mind. He truly believed what he was doing was right. He was feeling pain, he had lost someone. His daughter.

“You need to get out of here, B!” Steve urged.

“Not a chance!” I fought back. “Not when my father could be—“ I stopped before I could say the words. Tony could not be dead. I couldn’t believe that. “I’m not going to stop until this is over.”

“Cap. That’s him.” Bruce stated, drawing in Steve’s full attention.

“Eyes up. Stay sharp,” Steve commanded as he readied his shields.

next >

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dontcare77ghj · 5 years

Text

They won’t touch you. Pt 2

Bucky x reader x Natasha

Wanda x reader (Sisters)

Warnings: Language, Violence and a lot of worried BuckyNat

“I hate this plan. I really hate this plan.” Bucky continuously mumbled.

“It wouldn’t be half as bad if you weren’t stressing everyone out.” Natasha stated from her position.

“Yeah man.” Sam chirped in. “Calm down your girl knows what she’s doing.”

“See even Sam knows.” You quietly exclaimed.

“Guys can we focus please.” Steve sighed from across the coms.

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

“Sorry Steve.” Multiple voices murmured through the coms.

“Okay then. Tony do you have eyes on HYDRA?” Steve asked.

“Yes, I do capsicle. They’re right where we thought they’d be.” Tony voice filtered through.

“Good. Y/N, Buck, Nat, you know the plan?” Steve asked, half knowing you did but wanted confirmation.

“Sure do pal.” Bucky replied.

“Y/N you have the tracker, right?” Steve directed his questions to you.”

“Of course.” You stated.

“Ok than, let’s do it.” Steve said and that’s when the chaos began.

“I can’t do this anymore!” You screamed storming down the stairs with your lovers behind you. “I can’t stay cooped up in this place anymore!”

“Doll think this through it’s not safe out there for you.” Bucky stated, reaching his hand out for you but you stepped away.

“No don’t touch me. I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t keep be stuck here day in day out.” You stated turning away from the two.

“Y/N you can’t leave HYRDA is still after you.” Natasha said following you. You spun around, hair whipping.

“How do I know that’s true?” You cried.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Natasha asked crossing her arms.

“How do I know the HYDRA threats real? How do I know that this isn’t just some plan to keep us here?” You shouted failing your arms.

“That makes no sense doll.” Bucky said softly again attempting to pull you in his arms.

“Yes, it does!” You exclaimed. “What if there is no HYDRA threat and this is just the team trying to keep everyone who’s ever been near or in some HYDRA facility locked down.”

“Why would they do that?” Natasha asked rolling her eyes.

“Because they don’t trust us! There’s no trust on this team!”

“If there’s no trust on this team then why are you still here?” The red head finally asked.

“You know what? I really don’t know.” You stated before storming out the front door. You run out the front gate, completely bypassing security and began to speed walk down the road.

“That was good. Really good Maximoff.” Tony said through the coms. “Now all you gotta do is let them take you.”

“Don’t say it like that Stark.” Steve chided.

“I still really hate this plan.” Bucky cut in.

“Really you don’t’ say Barnes.” Sam said, and you could hear him rolling his eyes.

While the team argued over the coms, the screeching of tires drew made you jump in surprise. You looked over your shoulder to see a black van stopping behind you.

“Oh shit.” You whispered as five men in all black jumped out the van. Your hands became engulfed with the black energy as you readied to ‘fight’.

“Y/N is it happening?” Bucky shouted into your com.

“She can’t answer you dickhead.” Sam shouted.

“Well look who it is.” You voiced cutting through the arguing on your coms. “A bunch of HYDRA morons.”

“You should’ve listened to your lovers and stayed at home bitch.” The lead man smirked. You blasted a weak gust of black energy at the man knocking him back on his butt.

A flurry of activity began as the HYDRA members began to attack. You were still ‘fighting’ and throwing energy at your attackers. The fight was cut short when a blinding pain in your shoulder forced you to stop.

“Fuck!” You shouted putting a hand on your bleeding wound. The men used your distraction to their advantage and forced you to your knees before hitting you with the butt of a gun.

The last thing you heard before it all went black was the combined screaming of your name from your com.

Nat and Buck’s POV (Still kind of third pov)

“I told you I fucking hate this plan. I told you it was dangerous and now we’ve lost fucking contact!” Bucky ranted as he paced the length of the meeting room.

“Barnes calm down.” Steve said placating, placing his hand on his brothers’ shoulders. “We always knew this was a risk. You knew. We knew. Y/N knew.”

“Just because we knew doesn’t making this any less terrifying.” Bucky muttered shrugging off Steve’s hand.

Natasha moved into her lovers’ side and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Stark, how’s that tracker working?”

“Is that a hint of doubt I’m hearing Romanoff? Do you doubt my genius?” Tony asked without looking back at the former assassin.

“Tony.” Bucky growled through his gritted teeth. Tony turned around on his chair and raised his hands in a surrendering motion.

“Relax Barnes. See this dot here?” Tony said pointing at the moving, blinking, red dot. “That means they haven’t found it. It means we can find her. We just gotta wait for it to stop and find out where they are.”

“And if they take her out of the country?” Wanda asked rubbing her hands together. “What then?”

“Already covered.” Steve butted in. “We have Clint following at a distance just in case anything like that or worse happens.”

“So, what do we do till that thing stops?” Sam asked leaning against the table.

“We keep ready.” Steve replied. “We be ready at a moment notice to roll in.”

“I can’t believe you just said roll in.” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“You know what Stark not the time.” Steve snapped turning to said man with a frown.

“Guys.” Bruce spoke gaining the rooms attention. “It’s stopped.” He added pointing to the screen. Everyone’s head snapped to the screen to see that Bruce was indeed correct. The dot was had stopped moving on a building just outside of the city.

“Barton come in.” Steve commanded into the coms. “What’s happening?”

“I’m not too sure here Cap.” Clint voice rang through the coms. “They’ve stopped at a warehouse, but no-ones gotten out of the van yet. It sounds like our girls putting up a fight.”

“Can you get any closer Clint?” Steve asked, watching as Bucky and Natasha stiffened.

“Sorry guys but any closer and our cover will be blown, hang on.” Clint said before going silent.

After a minute Natasha asked, “Clint what the hell’s going on?”

“Everyone just got out of the van. They’ve got a collar around Y/N’s neck. I’m patching through a photo, Wanda do you recognize it?” Clint replied as the computer binged alerting everyone to the photo Clint sent. It was close picture of a large, black and red, metal collar around your neck.

“Yes, I know this thing.” Wanda stated. “It suppresses the gifts we have, it was used a punishment because it essentially bottles up the energy to the point of pain.”

“How does it cause pain?” Vision asked, speaking for the first time, as he grabbed Wanda’s hand.

“It’s like a cork in a bottle. It let’s the energy build and build but it can’t be released or used because of the collars technology.” Wanda said with a pained expression. “Too long with it and it feels like your going to explode from the burning energy.”

“This wasn’t part of the plan Rogers.” Bucky growled as he and Natasha became angrier every second.

“I know Buck.” Steve sighed. “Everyone it’s time to roll out. Let’s go.” Steve commanded, and everyone ran to the quinjet and began to make their way to the base.

Bucky and Natasha were barely spoke on the way to the base, both too nervous about their third to attempt to comfort the other. One thing was for sure, they would kill anyone who had hurt their lover.

Y/N POV

“Again.” The male commanded. Water drenched you and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head. The sound of electricity rang through your ears before your body was convulsing from the shock.

You were in the middle of the room, your arms chained above your head, toes barley touching the ground and that dammed collar around your neck. You were soaked to the bone and you still felt like you were twitching from the endless electric shocks. Your shoulder and head were still bleeding, and you were pretty sure the men who had taken you had broken a couple ribs.

“Who do you serve?” The ringleader of your capture asked, again.

You let out a loud breath and raised your head to glare at him, again. “Go to hell.” You stated. The man growled before slapping you across the face, your head snapped to the side and you spat out blood. “Oh, you’re fucking dead buddy.”

“Take her to the chair.” He declared, and two men came over one released your hands from the ceiling and the other grabbed them before you could do anything.

You were dragged through the halls before they came to a large door. Behind the door was two more people in all black and the chair. You knew from the stories Bucky told what was about to happen and your struggling increased tenfold.

This wasn’t in the plan. You thought as one man pushed his finger into your bullet wound. You cried out and threw your elbow back into his jaw. He let go of you and the other made to grab at you, but you kicked him in the groin.

As he fell to the floor you made to run out the door, but the main man wrapped an arm around your middle and the other around your neck. You felt a sharp prick in your neck and suddenly you couldn’t move your bottom half.

“What did you do?” You cried out weakly as he dragged you to the chair and quickly strapped you down.

“Made sure you’ll comply.” He said dismissively as he tightened the straps. You still couldn’t move from the waist down and with your top half strapped down you began to panic. The man moved to the control panel and prepared the machine.

“Any last words bitch?” He smirked at you.

“Go to hell.” You snapped still attempting to move as far away from the chair. He continued to smirk and went to turn the machine on. Screams and the sound of gun fire from the hall made everyone’s heads snap to the door. You watched as a look of anger crossed the mans face and you began to smirk.

“Like I said, you’re fucking dead buddy.” You let out a light laugh. He ignored you and began to bark out orders to the others in the room.

One man went to open the door cautiously when an arrow hit him in the back of the head. He fell to the floor and another quickly followed. The other two weren’t far behind and the lead man lunged for the control panel when Clint jumped from the vents above, landed on the man’s shoulders and stabbed him in the shoulder with an arrow.

He fell backwards, Clint still on him and tried to throw him off. Clint threw him and the man back into the wall and smashed his head into the wall a couple times. The man fell to the floor alive, but unconscious.

“Caw caw motherfucker.” He said walking over to you, with a small smile. You laughed at the archer as he helped unstrap you. “Shit they really did a number on you, little witch.”

“Hey, I’m older than Wanda. She’s the little witch.” You hissed as he accidentally grazed your ribs.

“Okay then, little witch, lets gets you out of here.” He said wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you to a stand. You fell to the floor as your legs collapsed.

“Shit!” You cried out. Clint helped you stand and kept a tighter grip on you. “I can’t feel my legs!” You said as you began to panic again.

“That’s fine. That’s okay.” Clint soothed as he lifted you bridal style. “We can fix that. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Clint you got anything?” Steve shouted as he ran into the room. “Y/N are you okay?” Steve ran over taking you out of Clint’s arms and held you in his own.

“Sure, I’m fan-fucking-tastic.” You hissed in pain at the shift of your body. Steve ignored your language and followed Clint out of the room, who had grabbed the unconscious man and was dragging him out of the room.

“They did something to her legs.” Clint said from in front of you.

“What did they do?” Steve asked, looking down at you. You groaned at the jostle to your shoulder.

“Injected me with something. I don’t know what.”

“Capsicle, Legolas.” Tony said into the coms. “We’re done out here. You got enchantress?”

“We have Y/N. We’re making our way to the quinjet.” Steve replied as he and Clint began to move out of the base faster. All around you was destruction, bullet holes and a few bodies littered throughout the halls.

When the four of you had made your way outside you heard your name being called. Wanda was the first to reach you and was talking frantically in sokovian. You reassured her in your native tongue before switching to English.

“I’m fine Wanda. I just need this damn collar off.” You told her tapping the dammed thing. She glared at the device before nodding.

“Doll.”

“Y/N.” You heard and looked up to Bucky and Natasha running towards you. Bucky took you from Steve and crushed you to his chest.

“Doll we so were worried.” He said into your hair.

“Nothing to worry about Buck. I’m a big girl.” You laughed and kissed his lips gently. He smiled as you pulled away.

“Nothing to worry about?” Natasha asked as she awkwardly wrapped her arms around you and Bucky. “You have a bullet wound in your shoulder.”

“And they did something to her legs.” Clint shouted as he moved to take the man over to the rest of the captured.

“What does that mean? What did they do to your legs?” Bucky asked as he began to carry you over to the quinjet.

“I don’t know, but since I currently can’t feel anything from the waist down, I’m going with something bad.” You groaned as the collar’s effects began to push overwhelm the adrenaline rush. “Right now, all I care about is getting this fucking collar off.”

“Language.” Tony said as you stepped onto the quinjet. You stuck your finger up at the man as Bucky placed you on a makeshift bed in front of said man and Bruce, who looked tired.

“Hiya doc. Tin man. Got anything to help with this?” You asked as you tapped the collar.

“I think we can help you with that.” Tony said moving behind you take care of the collar, as Bruce began to asses the damage.

“Y/N can you tell me where the most damage is?” Bruce asked pulling a first aid kit out.

“Legs.” Natasha cut in. “They did something to her legs.”

“She can’t move them.” Bucky added. You rolled your eyes at the two and sighed as the collar fell from your neck.

“You guys don’t trust me at all.” You said with a small smile.

“We trust you doll, we just want to make sure your okay.” Bucky said gripping your hand tightly. Natasha nodded in agreement and sat on your other side and kissed your check.

“We love you little witch.” Natasha stated placing another kiss on your lips.

“You three are sickening, you know that right?”

“Way to ruin the moment Stark.”

Two weeks later

After a grueling two weeks of recovery you were finally able to see if you could keep the sling off. Bruce had insisted, just to make sure you wouldn’t jar the healing of your shoulder, and of course your lovers and sister had agreed with him.

Your ribs had healed nicely and your forehead only needed some stitches to stop the bleeding. Your paralysis had turned out to be temporary only lasting 24 hours.

Wanda had been very protective of you in the last two weeks. She had made sure you were taking care of yourself and following Bruce’s instructions. She had only wanted to make you recovery time comfortable, even going to the lengths of making meals your mother had for you, when you had been young.

While Wanda’s protectiveness was sweet, you were starting to feel suffocated by Natasha and Bucky. They were very cautious of you, tried to make sure you were relaxed and not moving you shoulder or ribs too much, even trying to keep you in bed for majority of the time.

Even with their protectiveness and suffocating attempts of care, you felt very touched at how they would help you with even the smallest of things.

“Doll, come on. It’s time for your check up.” Bucky called from the entrance of your apartment in the tower.

“I’m coming.” You called from the three of you’s bedroom. You made your way to the entrance to see both your lovers waiting for you. Natasha greeted you with a loving kiss to the lips, and when she pulled away Bucky replicated her actions.”What was that for?” You smiled.

“No reason needed.” Bucky said slinging an arm around your waist, Natasha wrapped an arm around your shoulders being very careful of your injury.

“Just because we love you.”

“I love you two more.”

Final part is on it’s way

Taglist: @jewelofwinter

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