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[joansiefics]

Bucky -

could you write something about Bucky's daughter getting in a car accident with friends and shes the only one that makes it and she calls bucky because she's scared and hurt...so bucky and steve come to the scene and helps/

Everyone makes mistakes:

DAD!BUCKY X DAUGHTER!READER

WARNINGS: Underaged drinking, car accident, death. Please let me know if I missed anything :)

A/N: Alright, so if you have seen my last post (like a year ago), I said that I will be solemnly posting stories on Wattpad. It went great, but kinda went downhill after a while - I became busy with school and when I had the time I just couldn't get myself to write something. But then like a week ago, I logged into my Tumblr account, and I missed the feeling of writing something down and being creative (because all I do now is study math and physics and that's not really being creative), so I thought why not start writing the requests that I never wrote?? So yeah, here is the first one in a while :)

MARVEL MASTERLIST || BUCKY MASTERLIST || PROMPT LIST

REQUESTS are now OPEN

ADD yourself to my TAGLIST

I didn’t want to get into the car. I told them that like 20 times already, but do you expect drunk-out-of-their-mind people to listen to you - the “deadbeat” of the group, because you don’t like alcohol?

I used to like alcohol. LOVED it in fact. Until my dad had to come bail me out of jail, after a party had gone wrong. It wasn’t entirely my fault – I didn’t know the house wasn’t really the host’s house, but rather someone’s who was on vacation. The neighbors heard the music and yelling as our team won bear pong and called the police. When the police arrived, I was too drunk to register anything going on and some friends, my friends were – ran away without me and left me to be the only one to get arrested.

A few hours in jail can really help you sober up quickly, trying to gather your thoughts, because what are you going to tell your dad? Not even an hour later, my dad came to bail me out and I swore (while resting my head on the toilet seat and my dad holding my hair back) to never drink a sip of alcohol again if I could help it. Now I know most people say that, and the following night they’re at the new bar drinking like there’s no tomorrow – that wasn’t me: I declined the parties my “friends” invited me to and started spending more time with my dad – he is actually a really cool guy. This continued for a few weeks until my “friends” told me they didn’t want anything to do with me anymore, because I’ve changed. I have to say, I was truly happy with their decision.

I made new friends and was able to stick to my “no-drinking-promise” – but it became difficult because apparently you can’t have friends that don’t drink, leading to the predicament I find myself in at this very moment.

“Y/N will you just get in the freaking car?! We don’t have all night”.

“I’ve told you 20 times, now 21, I’m not getting into the car with you. You can’t even walk in a straight line!”

“Just GET IN!” My dad might be a super-soldier, but that doesn’t mean I inherited the strong gene, so it was rather easy for John (one of my friends) to man handle me into the back, squashing me against the left side window, as the rest of our friends piled in next to us. I prayed, I really prayed that I’d get home safe.

“Wouldn’t it be better if I drive? I know I only have my learners license, but you guys are accompanying me, so it’s not like I’m breaking the law. It’s better than all of us dying because you were drunk and driving”.

“I am fully capable of driving this car, Y/N” Melany said from the driver’s seat. I decided to shut my mouth and let her focus on the road, she didn’t need me and the alcohol distracting her.

“Turn up the music!!” Ethan yelled and everyone thought to cheer him on, as if he had said the coolest thing on earth.

“Don’t you think we should let Melany focus on the road, and maybe be quiet?” I suggested.

“Will you stop being such a deadbeat for once in your life, Y/N?” This time it was Sarah who spoke. She was the perfect student that everyone looked up to – perfect grades, happy family, rich parents, beach houses… you name it; but only we knew that it was all a façade – she studied day and night as an escape from her mom being permanently drunk and her dad permanently working. I guess that’s why her comment didn’t bother me as much as it should have, she is merely living out the life that was presented to her as an example.

“I’m sorry” I apologized.

We haven’t even been driving for more than five minutes, when Melany spoke again. “What is that bright light? It’s hurting my eyes, make it stop” she whined. Apparently drunk people are like insects attracted to light, because all my friends stared at the light in awe.

At first I wasn’t interested, I just rolled my eyes and stared out the window.

“Oh look, the light is moving towards us” Melany squealed, earning another eye roll from me, but I have to admit the curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to see what was so fascinating about a stupid light.

I wish I never looked – with the looking came the honking of a truck’s horn – a signal to move out of the way. But have you ever Googled what happens when people drink too much? My dad made me Google it the night he came to bail me out of jail; he forced me to read all the bad things that could happen to you when drinking irresponsibly – slowed reflexes, no filter for words spewing out of your mouth and sometimes even alcohol poisoning.

Right now, not even a horn could quicken Melany’s reflexes. Before I could even think of a plan to get her to swerve out of the way, the truck collided with us. Head on. We were flipping. Rolling. Flipping. Rolling. And flipping some more. When we finally came to a stop, I couldn’t see for a few seconds – everything was dark and blurry. It probably took me a few minutes to come to a realization of what just occurred.

“Okay Y/N. What would dad do in this situation?” I didn’t know what he would do and even if I did, I probably wouldn't be able to accomplish it. “Guys?” Silence. “Guys!” More silence. I didn’t like the silence – it made me hear my own heartbeat drumming in my ears. We were on a deserted road, little to no lampposts and no one ever driving down this road at this hour. I didn’t even know if the truck driver was alive, called the ambulance or just… drove away.

I slowly moved my arm, feeling pain shoot up into my shoulder, but I had to get a hold of my phone. Feeling my phone in my pocket, I just prayed it would still work. Slowly pulling it out, trying not to cause more pain to my shoulder, I saw the screen light up, and I could have cried tears of joy.

I didn’t want to call the police or the ambulance – I only wanted my dad. I pressed speed dial and not even 5 seconds later I heard my dad’s voice.

“Hey doll, where are you? I thought you would be home by eleven?”

“I-“ I didn’t know what to tell him. “I- uhm”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Hey, you promised never to call me Y/N unless I was in trouble” I tried to joke, maybe let out a laugh to let him know that I was okay and not busy bleeding somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Of course he heard the airy laugh. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear my heart beating like I could.

“Well, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“In trouble?”

“Have a little faith in me dad. I told you I’m not going to drink, and I stuck to my promise” I rasped out.

I heard some laughing in the background. “I’m sorry, am I disrupting you?”

“No, not at all, doll. Steve just came to hang out for a bit. But stop changing the subject, if you’re not in trouble, why are you calling me when you should have been home already?” I probably had to speed up the conversation, because I could feel myself getting dizzy, there was something wet dripping down my shoulder and forehead and no one was making a noise – I just hoped they’d be alive.

“Well, you see… uhm”.

“Spit it out. Do I have to come bail you out again? Because I swear Y/N I will…”

“I need you to come get me” I tried to stop the wobble in my voice, but it was useless. “I promise dad… I told them I didn’t want to, but they forced me and they were drunk and – and they’re not waking up and - “ a big sob escaped my mouth and I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“What did they force you to do, Y/N?”  I could hear the panic in my dad’s voice. I heard him call Steve and I heard Steve’s worried voice ask what was wrong.

“Y/N, you need to breathe and tell me where you are so we can come get you” I focused on my breathing, trying to get myself to keep calm and get as comfortable as possible. I tried wiping the wetness of my forehead, that kept bugging me, but I caught the sight of crimson smudged on my hand. Stupidly, I smacked the same hand over my mouth to stop the scream from pouring out, but my dad heard the muffled scream.

“Doll, breathe. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me”.

“I – there’s blood!” I wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

“Y/N, answer me damnit! Where are you?”

“I don’t know” I was trying so hard to get air into my lungs. “We were driving back home from the party – “

“We… I… we’re on an abandoned road, there are almost no lampposts, there are no houses, there…” That’s all I know” I cried out, because how were they going to find me if I didn’t even know where I was.

Dad’s voice came from the other side. “We’ll search in the perimeters of the party’s address.”

“Please don’t hang up!”

“I’m going to hand the phone over to Steve, I have to focus on the road. Just keep talking to him, sweetheart.”

“We’ll be there soon, honey. Ten minutes, tops” Steve tried to ease my nerves.

I didn’t speak to any one of them after that, but it comforted me, knowing that they were there, just a call away and maybe just a few minutes away.

Eight minutes later, Steve said he was going to hang up and I cried and pleaded with him not to but got interrupted by the “end call” button. Before I could even think about cursing him out, or being mad at him and my dad, I heard my name being called.

“Here!” Was all I could seem to manage, but luckily they heard me. “Steve come help me get her out!” Soon Steve was forcing the door open and holding it as my dad, gently pulled me out of the wreck and into his chest.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe. You’re alive.” My dad whispered in my ear, gently swaying me side-to-side. Sobs wracked my chest and the tears couldn’t stop flowing – my dad didn’t seem to care that his shirt was a mess of blood and tears.

“My – my friends”

My dad and Steve surreptitiously looked at each other until my dad nodded for Steve to get them out of the car. I think they knew something I didn’t, because when they were all safely outside the wreck, Steve had a confirmed look on his face as he searched for a pulse at each of them but didn’t find a single one.

“No! They’re fine, feel again!” I yelled at Steve. He wasn’t a doctor; he couldn’t call time of death.

“Y/N, doll, listen to me, Steve already checked – “

“ – Well he should check again! He’s wrong!”

To settle my mind, Steve searched for a pulse at each of them and once again turned to look at me with a sad smile.

“No. NO! No, no, no…” My “no’s” were getting quieter and my knees were getting weaker. “no, no…no” the last “no” came out chocked, and my dad caught me as my knees finally buckled and we sank to the floor. I couldn’t take the weight of their death. They were my friends, and even though they made some stupid decisions tonight, they didn’t deserve this. Everyone makes mistakes every once in a while. My dad ran his hand up and down my back, trying to ease some warmth and calmness into my skin and bones.

“Doll, I’m gently going to pick you up and take you to my car”.

“My shoulder. My friends” I kept seeming to forget my friends were dead.

“I’ll be careful of your shoulder. We’ll get it checked out and fixed at home. Right now, I just need you need to breathe with me. Focus on my breathing and everything will be sorted out. You don’t need to worry your head about anything right now, except breathing”

“My friends”

“We’ll get someone to come and get them. I promise”

My dad gently laid me down on the backseat of his car and a few moments later he got into the driver’s side and Steve got in next to me. Unfortunately, when my dad started the car, I was panicking. “No, I don’t want to be in a car. Please! Dad, don’t drive, I’m begging you!”

Steve gently scooted closer to me and enveloped me into a hug, I didn’t even realize we were driving, until we got home. Steve carried me out of the car as my dad ran ahead of us, opening the front door, grabbing blankets, and throwing them onto the couch. Steve gently put me down on the couch, but told me to keep sitting up, because they needed me to stay awake. Apparently, I can’t do that when I’m laying down.

My dad already called one of the doctors (while we were driving) from the infirmary to come check on me and do everything that he deemed necessary. My dad plopped himself down next to me, getting ready to keep me awake until the doctor gave orders that I could close my eyes.

After five minutes of the doctor’s presence, I decided that I didn’t like him. He kept telling me to “keep those eyes open” and “don’t fall asleep on me now”, while prodding at my injuries. Then he decided that pulling out the glass in my shoulder and stitching the wound up, was absolutely necessary and then he thought that shining the brightest light of all time in my eyes, would make me happy. My dad held my hand the entire time – gave it a squeeze when I winced or rubbed his thumb up and down when I squeezed my eyes shut due to the pain.

When the doctor finally left, my dad used a washcloth to wipe some sweat and dirt from me and handed me my pyjamas. He didn’t want to leave me alone for in case I felt dizzy (because the doctor said that’s what concussions can do), so he just turned around and kept his hand outstretched towards me, so I’d have something to grab onto if I felt like falling.

Afterwards, he helped me lay down under the covers and gently tucked me in as Steve brought me some biscuits, water and painkillers. It was difficult to fall asleep after everything that had happened tonight, but my dad reassured me that we’d take it day-by-day, one step at a time.

He would be there when I had to attend my friends’ funerals. He’d be there when I had to go for my check-up appointment at the doctor that wouldn’t let me sleep. And he’d be there when the terrible nightmares woke me up from my slumber.

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TAGLIST:

@buckyzzrogers @buckyandstevesbitch @ooopsthiswasnotsupposedtohappen @marvelouslyriddikulus @yliumy

[joansiefics]

https://ko-fi.com/joansiewrites

[joansiefics]

hey guys, I am leaving Tumblr and moving solemnly to posting on Wattpad. These stories will be available on Wattpad and two requests that I have received will also be written on there.

I hope you guys understand and I just want to thank each and every one of you for all the support and lovely, uplifting comments <3

Wattpad: Joannie Hattingh - joansiewrites

[joansiefics]

Hey guys!!! If you read my A/N of my last story you'll know that I was talking a bout writing my own book. So this is the book and it's on Wattpad (I'm not going to post it on here). I am trying to update on a daily basis and so far it's going great! If you have the time please go and support me by reading and voting (if you like it)

-------------------- a description:

She was never a great mother. She never stopped the beatings, the punches or the kicks. But the one time Jack was on the verge of taking it overboard, she stepped in. It cost her, her life, but it saved me, my innocence. The innocence I am willing to fight for. The innocence my mother was willing to die for.

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

Vivianna didn't have the best childhood growing up - she still doesn't. One night's unfortunate, traumatizing events leave her speechless and numb. She continues her life as normal as she possibly could under the circumstances, but there is a constant reminder of her loss and miserable life everywhere she looks.

But they always say that there is light at the end of the tunnel. A silver lining to the cloud. You just never know the distance of the tunnel or the width of the cloud. You're blindly walking with the hope of a better day when the sun rises again and you haven't closed your eyes for yet another night.

Vivianna was at the end of her tunnel and the surprise at her tunnel's end was 6 older, protective, scary, mafia brothers. A family. Hopefully they can give her the life she always wanted. They can comfort her, love her and be there for her and she would gladly return them all the favor.

What will her brothers do when they find out about the abuse? Will they believe her? Or maybe they even know her abusers and mother's killer? And what will Vivianna do when she finds out their biggest secret?

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What do you think?

[joansiefics]

Hi! I hope you’re well and staying safe during these unpredictable times. I was wondering if I could request something? I was thinking of a plot that takes place on the raft after civil war. The reader is Clint Barton’s oldest daughter and is dating Steve. Ross decides to interrogate her for Steve and Bucky’s location and she gets really really hurt. Clint is freaking out and is in dad-protective-mode and just A LOT of angst please! Maybe some graphic violence if you’re okay with that? Thanks for considering my request!

Over and Over and Over Again

FATHER!CLINT BARTON X DAUGHTER READER

SUMMARY: You are Steve's girlfriend, so naturally Ross decides to interrogate you after the Civil War to find the location of Steve and Bucky. You get seriously hurt and Clint's protective dad side comes to the surface.

WARNINGS: Graphic Violence (slight choking, pinning down, cutting, punching, kicking), Belittling, Unconsciousness (not the reader), Mentions of Killing. (feel free to let me know if I missed any warnings)

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say... maybe except that I am starting with my book tomorrow. Here are some “spoilers” - Italian, Brothers, Sister, Mafia... I’m really, really, really excited to write it and for you guys to read along. Have a nice day :)

MARVEL MASTERLIST || CLINT MASTERLIST || PROMPTLIST ||

REQUESTS are OPEN

Add yourself to my TAGLIST

You and Steve have had the conversation over and over and over again. The conversation about your safety for his vulnerability or vice versa. He told you time and time again that if it ever came to it, that you would rather fend for yourself than for him. Yet here you are… in a dimly lit room, with the only dim light coming from the light focused on the interrogation table and you, grey plastered walls that have brown spots where the paint has chipped off and a very ireful Thaddeus E. Ross standing by the door.

At first Ross had sat across from you asking the same question repeatedly. Just one question. And your answers for the question every. single. time… was silence, a shoulder shrug or an “I don’t know” and then a slap or a punch to the cheek or jaw would follow.

“Y/N, I have almost had it with you!” he yelled pushing away from his leaning position against the door frame.

“We’ve been in here for…” he check his watch “three hours!” “ Three hours!! And you haven’t given me anything useful yet!”

Another shoulder shrug.

Another punch.

“I’m going to ask you this one. more. time. Where the hell is Steve and Bucky?!” he leans over the table coming considerably close to your face, allowing you to count each lone moustache hair curling into his mouth.

“I’ve told you, I have no idea where they are and even if I did, why would I tell you?” There have been many occasions where Steve and Bucky saved your life and helped out in tough situations, so despite the conversations exchanged between you and Steve you would not cave and ruin their mission. Even if it meant you would end up injured.

He straightens his back and supports his weight with his hands still on the table. “I thought you would’ve caved by this time already, but I guess we’re doing this the hard way then.” he snarls, a fish-eating grin making home on his wrinkled face.

Though three hours were a lot for Ross and at that, an unsuccessful three hours, you found it quite helpful. Three hours were more than enough time for you to loosen the rope tied around wrists. You were grateful that they trusted their security enough to tie your hands with a braided hemp rope rather than metal handcuffs.

Ross walks to the door, turning around to look at you once again. “Last chance” he quirks an eyebrow at you and you want to slap the smug look off his face.

“Screw you Ross” you spit the blood out of your mouth onto the table in front of you.

Without any more words exchanged he takes the few final steps to the door and turns the knob. “You can have your fun now Jarrel” he peaks his head around the corner of the door and speaks to the guard who has been waiting outside the door for the entirety of the interrogation.

“What are the limits sir?” he asks.

“Just don’t kill her, we still need an answer” Ross carelessly shrugs.

“Okay, no worries. By the time I’m done, we’ll have all the answers to our questions even the unasked ones” he laughs.

“That’s good Jarrel” You watch as Ross leaves the room and slams the door behind him. Not waiting another second you quickly fiddle with the loosened rope to free your wrist and jump up from the chair, still on high alert of the voices echoing outside the interrogation room.

You run to the wall beside the door and take a few deep breaths – as slow as you possibly can in the given situation. Barely just able to calm your heart down you hear the doorknob turn and your breathing hitches. You stare the door down, waiting for it to open just the right amount to attack the guard, who’s name you've learned is Jarrel.

“What the - “ before he can utter anything else about your vacant seat, you jump onto him. Your arms wringing around his neck and your legs kicking wildly, hitting anything in the way.

“Get of me little girl!” he yells. Your one arm still holds tightly around his neck, while the other one goes to punch him square in the jaw over and over again.

“I. am. not. a. little. girl.” You seethe, accentuating each word with a punch.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins were slowly starting to wear off and the small amount of food and sleep you had gotten in the past couple days were catching up to you. Your punches were getting weaker, but you had to fight.

‘Fight for Steve. Fight for Bucky. Fight for dad. Fight for myself. Fight. Fight. Fight.’  You could only repeat the mantra for so long, but it gave you some encouragement. You didn’t even notice zoning out, but one swift, strategic movement from Jarrel, got you pinned to the floor in an immobile position. “Like I said… little girl”

Punches were raining down onto your body. Your jaw. Your ribs. Your stomach. Your arms. Anywhere he could hit. You were still struggling against his unfaltering grip, but to no use. You couldn’t give up.

‘Fight for Steve. Fight for Bucky. I can’t take this anymore Fight for dad. Fight for myself. Fight. Fig— I can’t!!'

‘“Maybe I’ve hit some sense into you now” he grabs the collar of shirt and pulls your upper body up from the ground. Your head was lolling in all the directions and you didn’t even try to execute his harsh instructions to look him in the eyes.

“Where are they?” he asks, staring holes into your skull. It takes every bit of energy form every fibre and every limb to muster up a few words, but you made sure to speak them clearly and lowly.

“I don’t freaking know” His hands let go of your collar, making your head collide with the cold floor. Jarrel gets up from his position, satisfied with the knowledge that you’re not capable of even taking a proper puff of air, and even less capable of getting up on your own two feet.

“Do you think this is some kind of game?” he breathlessly laughs.

“Let me reciprocate” he digs his hand into his left jean pocket, fishing out a pocketknife.

“Don’t worry, Ross instructed me not to kill you… that doesn’t mean I won’t come close though” You’ve stopped comprehending his words the moment he pinned you to the ground and you decide to give over, knowing it was useless to struggle against someone twice your size and five times (if not more) experienced than you.

He kneeled by you side again, flashing the blade in the dim light to evoke some horror and terror in you. But ironically you felt… nothing. You didn’t feel the cold floor through your shirt. You didn’t feel the bruises on your skin. You didn't feel fear. And you didn’t feel the pain as the blade made a small dent in your skin, just a small pressure.

“You might want to think twice about your actions before continuing” a deep, familiar voice snapped you out of the hazy daze you were in. You felt the cold floor. You felt the bruises. You felt trembling fear. And you definitely felt the incision in your skin, with small trickles of blood dripping from it. Jarrel didn’t get a chance to reply when a boot came in contact with the side of his head, catching him off guard.

“I swear I could kill you right here, right now for the things you did to my daughter. I should actually kill you right here.”

“Clint” the same deep voice, who belonged to Steve – now crouching beside you – warned.

“I know I promised not to kill him, but he hurt my daughter Steve!! Look at her! He hurt her and we weren’t here, so the least I can do is give him half a piece of what he deserves, because he actually deserves to be killed.” Clint sent more brutal kicks to Jarrel and Steve didn’t even protest any further. In the short time Jarrel’s been kicked, he’s gotten more damage done to his body than what you had done.

While Clint was delivering kick after kick, Steve slowly and gently helped you slouch against a wall and rubbed a hand up and down your arms to give you some comfort for the time being. “I was so worried about you sweetheart” he muttered, the sadness heavy in his thick Brooklyn accent. You gave him the best smile you could muster up, but it was barely a twitch of the lip, so you just rested your hand in his.

After your dad decided it was enough, he signalled for someone at the door to help him with Jarrel’s unconscious body. “Are you okay Y/N?!” he asked as soon as he joined you and Steve against the wall. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

“We need to get her home Steve. And quickly, she’s beaten up pretty badly” Clint relays, brushing the strands of hair, stuck to your sweaty forehead, out of your face.

“I’ll go get everyone.” Steve offers

“You’ll be okay Y/N” Steve smiles a small smile towards you, gives you a peck on the head, pushes himself off the floor and brushes the dirt from his pants.

“Meet us at the Quinjet as soon as you guys can” with one last small smile he leaves you and your dad in the interrogation room. Feeling more relaxed by every passing second you opt to rest your head on Clint’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything and at the moment you are grateful for the calming silence.

But the silence only lasts so long, when Clint speaks up “We should get to the Quinjet and get your injuries checked out” He slightly turns his body to yours and grabs you under your arms, keeping your limp and tired body from collapsing when he gets up. Once he’s fully standing, he hoists you up and supports you as you two make your way to the jet.

“Did you find Ross” you meekly croak, trying to stop from sputtering or swallow the blood in your mouth.

“No we didn’t, but I promise we will Pumpkin and when we do I will make sure to let him know how messed up he is and how he messed up, before I mess him up” the arm that is slung around your shoulder squeezes a bit tighter to show the sincerity of his words.

“Thank-“ you heave and start to cough uncontrollably. Black dots make themselves visible to your eyes and you are quickly deteriorating to a point where your entire body weight is supported by Clint. You lose your footing, but only to notice that you are being carried by Clint in a rush to what you can only guess is the Quinjet.

“Keep those eyes open for me Y/N. You can do it, just a few more minutes, then you can close them” The words from your dad’s mouth doesn’t exactly reach your ears, it is purely a mere, distant echo, that you can barely understand. The need to keep your eyes open is slowly, but surely being overpowered by the want to close them.

“Someone we need immediate assistance!” you presume Clint is yelling, but you can’t be sure.

“Put her on that gurney and start taking her top off!” Another person yells. ‘Was it Steve? Was it someone else?’

“Just a little longer Pumpkin.” A hand grabs yours and gives it a tight squeeze, before being replaced with another one – one you’re all to familiar with intertwining fingers and hugging tightly to your chest. “Your dad and I are gonna help you sweetheart. Don’t worry, just try and take deep breaths for us”

"Thank you"

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Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you):

@marvel-ously-riddikulus

[joansiefics]

Clinton Barton Masterlist

~ Over and Over and Over Again -  You are Steve's girlfriend, so naturally Ross decides to interrogate you after the Civil War to find the location of Steve and Bucky. You get seriously hurt and Clint's protective dad side comes to the surface.

[joansiefics]

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

~ Just So Terribly Sick - You are in an abusive relationship. On the one night you think it is your end Loki comes to your aid.

[joansiefics]

Sam Wilson Masterlist

~ Perfect Dormitory - Sam gets hurt and you have to take care of him

~ Coping Mechanisms - After a day filled with anxiety, Sam is there to comfort you

[joansiefics]

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

~ I Actually Just Want To Sleep - you train really hard with Natasha and pass out into her arms from too much exercise.

[joansiefics]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

~ More Like Fear Park - Bucky calms you down from your anxiety attack at the fun park

~ CRASH, BOOM, BAM!!! - you and your parents get in a car accident and Bucky, Tony and Natasha comes to the rescue

~ Still Not Cold - you dislocated your knee on a mission with Bucky, Steve and Sam and one of them has to pop it back into place

~ My Girl - Loki and Steve fight over you, but you are already in a relationship.

~ Lay Me Down Tonight - you are a newly recruited Avenger, with nightmares haunting your sleep. No one knows about your story, but you can’t keep it a secret for always.

~ A Malaria Confession - you think Bucky hates you, but that all changes when you get sick on a mission and Bucky is the only one there to help you.

~ Perceptible-To-a-Super Soldier's Ears - Bucky cancels your plans after a mission but you decide to show up at his apartment for support.

~ The Voices - You get rescued by Bucky and you discover that you have a chip implanted into your skull, so Bucky has to help you.  

~ Not A Disappointment - You are Bucky’s teenage daughter and you end up in some trouble. A night meant to be filled with fun ends up with you in barbed wire and a death of someone in your friend group.

~ I Have To - When you get shot by John Walker in the middle of the night. You stumble to Bucky’s house and knock on the door for some help.

~ Uneasy Hearts - You have a heart defect, so on your way to the Quinjet after a mission you cough and struggle to breathe. Bucky has to keep you comfortable and help you until you get to the tower’s infirmary for some real medical help.

~ Tickle or Tell - You were tired and to add to that, you had a horrible day at work. Bucky is there to cheer you up and get you to talk to him

~ Everyone makes mistakes - You and your friends get into an accident and dad!Bucky and Steve has to come and get you

[joansiefics]

Steve Rogers Masterlist

~ Stupid Stye - Steve helps you to get rid of you stye

~ No Bed Of Roses - Steve rescues you when you are kidnapped on your way home from running errands.

[joansiefics]

25 on the fluff prompt list please! bucky would be the world’s best tickle monster 🥰

Tickle or Tell

BUCKY BARNES X READER

Prompt 25 - “I’m going to tickle you, if you don’t come over here”

SUMMARY: You had a bad day at work and Bucky is there to cheer you up and get you to talk to him.

WARNINGS: none? (please let me know if there are any)

A/N: Hey!!! So I haven't written in a longgg time (exams and traveling) but I'm back for now and I'm gonna be starting my own book on Wattpad (I already finished the cover)

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The only thing on your mind as you drove back from work was the thought of a nice, steaming hot shower with the water droplets making temporary home on your skin, rinsing the horrid day. You parked the car and hopped out, stumbling over your feet to the door and fumbled with the key to insert it into the keyhole. The click of the door unlocking was like music to your ears and one barrier less to a curing shower. You kicked of your shoes by the door and threw your keys onto the kitchen counter on your way to the bathroom. Quickly collecting the first clothes your hands could grab from the closet, you trudge your way to the bathroom and as soon as the shower was turned on, the water didn't even have a chance to heat up as you felt the cold droplets freeze on your skin and then the stinging pain as the water changed temperature.

After what felt like hours in the shower, that has already turned back to freezing, you begrudgingly turn off the shower and wrap the towel loosely around your torso. Another few minutes pass as you study the tiniest details of your features in the mirror.

"Y/N?!" the distinct call for you, jerks you from your staring contest with your own pair of eyes.

You want to answer, but your voice won't allow it, your vocal cords strain and protest and all you can do is let a disgruntled groan slip past your lips - eyes still unmoving from the mirror, scrutinizing your face and body like it is a crucial assignment.

"Y/N?" the voice accompanied with a knock unglues your feet from the tiles, making their way towards the door with a mind of their own. Your hand encloses around the knob and the cold brass switches the switch in your mind to pull yourself together. 'I'm fine, I'm fine, there's nothing wrong' The knob turns agonisingly slow, until a click is heard, and the creak of the hinges fills the silence.

"You started getting me worried when you didn't answer" Bucky breathlessly laughs, the smile reflecting in his eyes. You plaster a forced smile on your lips

"I'm sorry" is all you say, and you silently curse yourself for not being able to come up with a reason for not answering him. "Why don't you finish getting dressed and then we can talk?" he says, eyeing you suspiciously and worriedly. Your breath hitches in your throat 'how did he know something was wrong? He can't know. It's just a coincidence... right?'

Before you can wrack your brain for anymore questions, Bucky turns around and leaves you to dress. You close the door and quickly get dressed, trying to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. The clothes you hastily took isn't the most comfortable and you debate whether or not to ask Bucky for a pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt, but you decide against it.

As if Bucky can read your thoughts, he throws a questions at you from the other side of the door "Are you okay in there doll?" A sigh escapes past your lips and the ignored question follows "Can I borrow a pair of sweatpants and a shirt?... please?"

"Sure, I'll be right back" you hear his retreating footsteps and then silence once again. You decide to brush your teeth while waiting for Bucky and just as you finish there is a knock at the door. You grab the clothes from him and thank him, before closing the door of your temporary safe haven.

You tried to stretch the time out for as long as you could, but you had to face Bucky at some point and rather sooner than later. You avoid the taunting mirror and stroll out of the bathroom, only to see Bucky had made himself comfortable on your bed, under a pile of blankets and is watching a series on Netflix that you've never seen before. His eyes are fixed on the TV in front of him and some part of you hoped that he would stay oblivious to your presence.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come and join me?" Bucky asks, eyes still fixated on the scene playing out in front of him. "Uhh, I uhhh, think I'm just gonna sit over there" you point to the couch in the corner of your room. In contradiction to your words, you stay frozen to the spot with your brain short circuiting.

"Y/N"

"I'm sorry" you apologise to Bucky and finally take your first step towards the couch.

"Y/N" his voice is soft and comforting and starting to break down your embankment to the dam of the tears.

"Bucky" your voice comes out a mere whisper and you make the one mistake you've been trying to avoid – you look him in his eyes. Those cerulean orbs staring into your soul, picking you apart piece by piece. Brick by brick. Cell by cell.

"Are you okay?" he asks uncertainly.

"Yeah, of course" you fake a laugh – a laugh that doesn't reach your eyes, the eyes staring straight at Bucky.

"Please come lie down on the bed, the couch is so uncomfortable. And we both know you just want to sit there to avoid the questions I'm going to ask you when I see the sadness in your eyes" he cocks a brow at you, looking for a clarification from your expressions.

To say you weren't tempted to be held by Bucky and fall asleep in his arms, would be a complete and utter lie, but you just couldn't and you didn't know why.

"I'm going to tickle you, if you don't come over here" Bucky threatens with a tad of humour in his voice, and already making his way towards you, when you stood planted in your position.

The next few steps of Bucky is all a blur, before you feel the playful pressure of his flesh fingers digging into your sides and ribs, flying over your tummy. "Nooo-oo-ooo" you protest, but it's too late.

"Do I ever make empty threats doll?" he asks, still tickling you. "Ye-" his vibranium hand moves from your ribs to your foot "No, no, you-huuuu ne-ver make emp-phhty thre-atttsss!!!" you puff out the words in between your heartful laughter and Bucky's face lights up at the sound of it – his eyes glistening and his dimples on full display, giving the final touches to his face.

"Plea-hseeeeee!!" the tickling hasn't faltered one bit and you are kicking your legs and flailing your arms around, but the tickling won't stop. "Buck-hyyyyy" "I'll, I'll do any-any-thinggg, ple-asee!!" you beg as if your life depends on it.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" he questions, lifting his hands from your body but still hovering over it. "Nothing is... wrong" you try to catch your breath, but to no use as Bucky starts tickling you again. "Wrong answer doll" His fingers move skillfully over every inch of ticklish skin on your body.

The tears are rolling down your cheeks and your core contracts from all the laughing. "Okay, ok-hay, pleas-e jus-st st-hoppp!" "Are you going to talk to me then?" Bucky questions and the 'no' was about to fall from your lips, was it not for the threatening glare and fingers still placed on your ribs.

"I guess I don't have any other choice" you sigh and Bucky laughs. "Of course you don't" he gets up onto his feet and wipes the imaginary dirt from his pants, before sticking out his hand for you to grab. You grab onto it and lift yourself from the floor. You two make your way to the bed, all traces of laughter dissipated into thin air, now laced with thick tension.

After you take a seat, Bucky kneels in front of you, placing his hands on your knees for support. Your head hangs low and you take a deep inhale of air. "There isn't really something wrong" you start the best way you could think of. Bucky doesn't interject, waiting for you to continue and take as much time as you need. "Like you know how I've been working really hard this past week and going to bed really late just to finish all my work?" he nods.

"So today my boss told me that I don't work hard enough, that he expected better from me and that he is disappointed in me" It's getting harder and harder for you to keep the tears at bay, so you let them fall freely. "I told him that my assigned work was already finished on Wednesday, but then he didn't believe me and told me to stop being disrespectful"

Bucky wraps his arms tightly around you – one hand cupping the back of your head and the other circling around your waist. You nuzzle your face into his neck, not caring that the tears are wetting his shirt and neither does Bucky care. "It's okay doll, it's okay" he assures, combing his fingers through your hair.

When the sobs and tears have turned into sniffles and hiccups, Bucky gently pulls you away from him, resting his hands on your shoulders and inspecting your tear-streaked face. "You and I both know that you've worked really hard and you shouldn't let his words get to you Y/N"

"I know, but it still hurts when someone says their disappointed in you, especially your boss" you angrily wipe a lonely tear from your cheek. "I know, I know" Bucky says, pulling you into another hug. "Why don't I talk to him for you, hm?" he says, resting his chin on the top of your head. "Maybe..." you pause for a second "Yeah, that'd be great, thank you Bucky"

"Anything for you doll"

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@buckyzzrogers @buckyandstevesbitch@ooopsthiswasnotsupposedtohappen @marvel-ously-riddikulus @yliumy @willowcxmillee

[joansiefics]

Reblog if you are a fic writer who welcomes moodboards, playlists, remixes, art and any other type of gift based on your stories.

Hell yes, everyone is always welcome to do any of the things, you will have my undying love and appreciation for it. (Translations are also a-okay.)

[joansiefics]

Uneasy Hearts

BUCKY BARNES X READER

No.10 - hospitals (infirmary)

SUMMARY: You and Bucky were on a mission when you got the chest pains you were so acquainted with. Bucky has to help you through it and take you to the tower's infirmary as soon as possible. At the infirmary he also has to comfort you and help you to take the medicine your too afraid to take

WARNINGS: Heart Defect, Talks of dying, Struggling to breathe, Medicine, IV - please let me know if I missed something <3

A/N: This was a requests sent to me and I thought it could work as something for my Whumptober posts as well. I really, really enjoyed writing it and I love all of your requests. 

@mariefischer this one’s for you

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REQUESTS are CLOSED - my exams are really hectic and I am going to put all my attention and focus into that, but I’ll post a fic as soon as I can start posting again. (you can request something if you really wanted to, but I won’t be able to write it soon)

Add yourself to my TAGLIST

"West and South wing's clear" you announce through the comms to Bucky. "East and North wing as well, I'll meet you on the Quinjet" Bucky replies. "Uh huh" you acknowledge him, trying to hide the searing pain that has been penetrating through your chest for the entirety of the mission.

The running to the Quinjet didn't help with the pain either and only got worse halfway through, so bad that you had to stop. You hunch over and force out a cough, trying to rid yourself from the extreme pain or at least relieve some of the tension. "Doll? I'm waiting for you on the jet, where are you?" Bucky's concerned voice dawns on you. A single tear rolls down your sweaty cheek. The tear a mixture of appreciation at Bucky's concern, tiredness and interminable chest pain.

"Y/N? are you okay? where are you?" "I'm okay" a short, breathy answer sends alerts through Bucky's mind. "Can you tell me where you are?" A struggled inhale, a dry and forced cough. "I was on my way from the South of the building. I'm halfway to the jet" A shaky exhale and a sob. "Just stay where you are doll, I'm on my way" You don't even want to argue with Bucky, because the truth is, you actually want his help. You want his comfort. You just want him to be there, even if he can't do anything.

You position yourself against the trunk of a tree, keeping pressure on your chest as if to stem the bleeding from a non-existent wound. 'Inhale, exhale... in, out... in, out'  you repeat the natural process in your head, trying to normalize your breathing - the breathing that you have no control over, or rather the lack of breathing you have no controlling over.

"I've got you, I'm here now. I'm gonna get you to the jet. Everything's going to be okay, doll" He must have sprinted to your location, or maybe you passed out from the lack of oxygen and don't remembered the time passing. But his here now and that's all that matters to you. He supports your body with an arm under your arms and behind your body.

With slow and steady steps you make it to the Quinjet. "Is it your heart again doll?" he asks as he gently puts you down on one of the chairs, looking for a head nod to confirm his suspicions, or an injury to deny it. You groan out a 'yes' and he rushes to a cabinet to find some medication for you and then to the cockpit to direct you back to the tower.

When he returns, he sees you trying to make yourself more comfortable on the chair. "Here, let me help you" he offers, handing you the Nitroglycerin tablets and a bottle of water. "Drink" he sternly says, leaving no room for argument. You half-heartedly swallow the pills with a loud gulp, trying to make it obvious for Bucky that you disapprove.

"It'll only help you, just till we can get you to Bruce" your eyes widen at the mention of Bruce. "I'll be there with you every step of the way doll, I promise" he squeezes your hand and then helps you to get more comfortable on the chair, knowing that you would struggle to fight off the sleep if you were to rest on the gurney, but that you would certainly try. "Are you comfortable now?" he asks, and when you nod he makes himself comfortable on the chair next to yours.

Now that Bucky was focused on your breathing his heart rate quickened as well. He had to do something to keep your breathing steady until the pills did their job. "I know you can't control your breathing, but would it help a bit if you listened to my breathing and put your hand on my chest to feel my heartbeat?" he politely asks, knowing that you would know exactly what you'd need. Without a word you put your tremulous and clammy hand on his chest and he exaggerates his breathing for you to follow.

Your breath didn't falter, but it was comforting and relaxing to know that Bucky's was there. To feel his heartbeat. To hear his breathing.

------

"We're here doll" Bucky's voice draws you out of your blank sleep. And although his words were spoken in utter soothingness, you woke up in utter terror. 'How could I fall asleep?! What if I died in my sleep?! You stupid-' "Doll!" Bucky brings your focus back to him. "Your making it worse if you stress yourself out over rare possibilities" "They're still possibilities" you sob, the tears freely and tauntingly falling from your eyes. "But they didn't happen Y/N, they weren't today's fate, okay?" "Okay" you whisper, accepting and trusting Bucky.

"I'm going to take you to the infirmary now, so don't freak out. Remember, I'm going to be there with you. Every step of the way." With a few labored breaths and involuntary coughs you stand up and let Bucky support you to the elevator leading down to the infirmary.

"Hey guys, how was the mission?" Bruce happily greets upon your arrival, but his smile falters when his eyes fall on your tired and pale face. "I'm assuming it didn't go well then?" "No, no... everything turned out the way it should have..." Bruce lifts an inquisitive eyebrow for you to continue, but the words don't want to come. You don't want to tell him that you need help. "But she got chest pains on the way back to the Quinjet and struggled to breathe properly... again" Bucky fills Bruce in.

"Oh okay, I'll just give you the same medicine I gave you through the IV last time it happened, no problem" You throw a weary look in Bucky's direction, your eyes filled with emotions on top of emotions, questions of doubt on top of protests. Bucky strolls closer to you, takes a seat on the gurney and takes your hand in his. "I'm gonna help you though it, there's nothing to be afraid of" "But it hurts, and you can't take that pain away. You can't make it disappear" "Your right, I can't... but I'm not gonna leave you. I'm gonna comfort you, talk you through it" "Thank y-" Your sentence stops when Bruce walks in with the IV bag.

"Alrighty, let's get you feeling better" Bruce says, trying to lift your spirits, very oblivious to your obvious fear. He wraps the tourniquet around your upper arm in search for a vein. Your eyes follow his every move like a hawk, you don't want any unexpected surprises. "Eyes up here doll" Bucky says, lifting your chin with his forefinger and thumb, but your eyes stay glued to Bruce's hands, still searching for a vein. "Focus on me" Bucky tries again, snapping his fingers in front of your vision.

You reluctantly look away from Bruce, directly into Bucky's eyes. And just for a moment you let yourself relax. You let yourself dwell in Bucky's cerulean, dreamy eyes. But Bruce's words "Here we go" registers too soon and if looks could kill, Bruce would have been killed by the ugly glare Bucky gave him. "No, no, no, no, no... I can't do this!!!! PleASe!!!" you scream blue murder, kicking with your legs and hitting with your arms. The screams break Bucky's heart into a million pieces as he fights to keep you still for the IV. "Doll, you need to keep still for me or it might hurt you more" he grits through his teeth as he focuses not to hurt you but still keep you from struggling. "I don't want to do this. I can't do this." You yell louder "I don't want to!" Louder "I don't want to!" Shriller "I don't want to!"

Despite your protests and squirming, Bruce succeeded in inserting the IV, secured it and left the room for Bucky to be alone with you. "Why did you let him do it?! You said you would help me, not hurt me" you sob "We are helping you Y/N. I know you hate this and I know you probably hate me now too, but if that means that you're going to be okay, then you can hate me, but I can't stand to see you suffer." There's a long moment of silence before you speak up.

"I don't hate you... and I'm sorry for fighting against you guys it's just - just that I hate the burning sensation when the IV comes in contact with my skin. And the drowsiness I'm feeling now? I'm scared that when I fall asleep I'm not going to wake up again" Bucky wipes the lonely tear from your cheek and kisses your forehead "I know I can't soothe your worries of the possibilities, but I can be here with you when you fall asleep and when you wake up I'm still going to be here with you. Like I said, every. step. of the. way"

------

You did open your eyes the next morning, Bucky was still by your side and the medicine worked perfectly like it usually did after all your protests and fighting.

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

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“I Have To”

BUCKY BARNES X READER

No.3 - “Who did this to you?”

SUMMARY: The reader turns up injured at Bucky's house in the middle of the night and it is up to Bucky to help her.

WARNINGS: Gunshot wounds, Needles, Blood, Rubbing alcohol, John Walker (please let me know if I missed something)

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It took you five minutes to climb the three small steps to Bucky's porch. You stumbled to the door and rested your heavy, limp figure against it before knocking weakly on the wood. You heard scuffing on the other end, but you didn't have enough energy to push away from the door, so when Bucky confusedly opened the door you fell into his arms.

"Y/N? What the heck happened to you?" Bucky grunts as he carefully dragged your body to the couch. You didn't answer him, too focused on staying awake a little longer. He lays you down on the couch and a string of groans and whimpers escape you. With one last look at you, Bucky rushes to the bathroom to find his medical kit.

When he returns with the kit your eyes are closed and it sends a wave of anxiousness through him. He desperately searches for any signs of life: a pulse, a groan, a movement, a whimper. Anything. He presses his pointer finger to your wrist, glad to feel the slightest pulse. 'It's something' he thinks. He pats your cheeks, but you don't open your eyes. He splashes water on you, but your eyes remained closed. "Come on Y/N" he says shaking your shoulders and you slightly squint your eyes open. "There you go, gotta keep those eyes open for me" he says, making himself comfortable next to you on the couch. "Wanna sleep" you murmur. "Noooo, no, no, no, stay awake doll" Bucky takes to patting your cheeks again and your eyes flutter back open.

He opens the medical kit "Can you tell me where it hurts Y/N?" "Everywhere" you sob, the facade of bravery and strength slowly crumbling. "You are gonna have to be more specific doll" Bucky stifles a nervous laugh. Your tremulous hand moves to the hem of your shirt and lifts it slowly for Bucky to see the crimson blood oozing from a bullet wound. "Who did this to you?" Bucky asks, grabbing a towel and putting pressure on the wound. "Walker" you grunt out as the water from the towel drips into your body and the pressure increases slightly as Bucky's jaw clenches and his anger is at the brim, close to spilling over.

"We need to get you to the hospital" "No! I tried. Walker has the entire area under surveillance and he won't hesitate to hurt one of us" Bucky looks at you, a heavy decision to make evident in his eyes. He puts more pressure on the wound, the cotton digging into the mess of blood and muscle tissue. You let out a low groan and twist your body away from Bucky. "Keep still doll, I have to clean the wound before I suture it. Or do you want to take the risk and go to the hospital?" He presses harder "It's o-okay, you can do i-it" you force out through huffs of air.

The bleeding had stopped flowing profusely and Bucky asked you to keep the pressure on the wound while he searched for the correct tools. "You want to tell me what happened?" he asks, threading the needle and setting it aside. "I was walking home and I noticed someone was following me, so I sped up my pace and later started running. Then I got shot and when I was lying on the ground, trying to regain my composure, John came running towards me. I thought he was going to help me but he stood above me and threatened that if I attempted to get up, he'd shoot me again. I probably stayed on the ground for 10 minutes before he left me. Then I decided to go straight to the hospital but when I got there the entire area was demarcated." You were so focused on your story telling that you didn't notice Bucky open the rubbing alcohol.

"I don't know why he-eeee" you squeezed your eyes shut and yelled when Bucky threw the rubbing alcohol into the wound. You gripped Bucky's vibranium arm in an attempt to stop him from pouring more alcohol into the wound. "I'm sorry doll, but I have to do it" he apologized. "Just one more time, okay? Just hold on for me, you are doing so well" Bucky comforted, though he was stressed that you wouldn't allow him to continue with his work and that could be crucial.

"I can't!" Despite your pleas, Bucky started tilting the bottle to let more alcohol fall into your wound. "Stop, please, s-stop, Buc-ky" you pleaded gripping his arm tighter. He has no choice but to carry on and ignore your protests and he throws more of the rubbing alcohol into the hole in your skin. He then rinsed the tweezers with the rest of the alcohol and pushed it into your wound. You cried out and struggled against Bucky's hold on you, twisting your body from one side to the other.

"You are just gonna hurt yourself if you keep moving" "How am I supposed to not move when you are digging in my body with a tweezer?!" you yell, but there's no anger in your voice, it's just pure pain and defeat. "Just try and stay still for me, please? I don't want to hurt you more than I have to" he helps you back into a comfortable position and takes ahold of the tweezers. Then he starts digging in your wound trying to find the bullet.

It takes everything in your body to keep still and all you can do is let the tears fall freely down your face. "I got it" he informs you with a clink of the metal thrown into a bowl. He takes the towel again and presses it over the wound, while he reaches for the needle. He quickly removes the towel and starts stitching you up. With occasional whimpers, sobs and writhing and your knuckles white from gripping the couch, he finishes the job rather quickly.

"We're all done doll, all done" he says bandaging your middle tight but not too tight. "Thank you" you whisper, voice hoarse from the yelling and crying. Bucky gently picks you up and carries you to his room. "Just sleep here for the night Y/N, I'm not letting you be alone in your house tonight and that wound needs constant checking up on" Bucky orders you and you don't even have the energy to argue. "Then at least just stay with me in here, please?" "Of coarse, whatever makes my patient feel better" he grins.

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

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WHUMPTOBER MASTERLIST

01/10: Not A Disappointment - Bucky Barnes

02/10: Just So Terribly Sick - Loki Laufeyson

03/10: I Have To - Bucky Barnes

10/10: Uneasy Hearts - Bucky Barnes

[joansiefics]

Just So Terribly Sick

LOKI LAUFEYSON X READER

No.2 - choking

SUMMARY: You are in an abusive relationship and on one night you thought might be your end, Loki comes to your aid.

WARNINGS: Abusive relationship, Choking, Beating, Blood, Kicking, Drunk

A/N: I was going to write two fics today, but something came up. So I’m going to try and write my last request tomorrow with another whump one. The request is prompt 25 - “I’m going to tickle you if you don’t come over here” so if this is yours... I am maybe going to finish it tomorrow. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like this one.

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You groaned when your alarm blared in your ears and you patted next to the bed in search for the off button. You just stared at the ceiling trying to talk yourself into getting up, but the pain was unbearable. Another ten minutes of staring. Contemplating. Motivating. But nothing was enough, so you took your phone from the bedside table and called Loki.

The two of you have been friends from the moment you joined the Avengers three years ago. He was out of custody and you were out of the claws of HYDRA. The friendship started the first night you slept in the tower and woke the whole building with a horrific scream caused by a vivid nightmare. Loki comforted you and in return you taught him about modern day technology, fashions and trends. 

"Hey Y/N, what's up" Loki's cheerful voice fill your ears. 'I've been beaten. Again. I was kicked and I think I broke a rib. Again. I am in so much pain I can't even get out of bed. Again.' that's what you want to tell him. You want to tell him what's really up, but you can't seem to find the words or the words can't seem to find a way out. "Nothing much, I just wanted to tell you that I'm not coming in for work today. I feel really sick." You felt terrible for lying to Loki, you weren't really sick. You were sick of being in constant pain caused by your 'beloved' boyfriend. Sick of lying and thinking of excuses to cover the evidence of abuse. Sick of wasting time to cover the bruises every morning before work. Sick of being in this relationship. And sick of not being able to tell anyone, even though you dream of nothing more.

"Okay, are you okay though? Do you need anything, like soup or chicken?" "No!" you talk louder than necessary and stutter a bit, but try to regain composure. "No thank you Loki, I think I just need to cuddle up on the couch with - " the tears are threatening to spill at the lie you are living. At the lie you try to make everyone, including yourself believe. "I'll just cuddle up on the couch and watch some Disney movies" "Okay, whatever you need sweetheart" you cringe at the pet name - the one your boyfriend calls you in his very drunken state, before the beatings fall loose onto your skin. 

"I'm gonna miss you today, don't have too much fun without me" you say, trying to lighten the mood for yourself. You are so eager to let your facade drop that you don't even hear Loki's last words directed to you through the phone before hanging up. 

------

When the evening neared and you heard your boyfriend come through the door, you knew all hell was about to break loose. You haven't got out of bed the entire day, yet you didn't feel the time pass. You were only snapped back to your reality when you heard the loud chatter of men in your living room. 'Great, just great' you cursed under your breath at the circumstances you were sure to find yourself in, in the next five minutes.  

You begrudgingly willed yourself out from under the covers you found so much comfort in. You put on socks to make your footsteps more imperceptible in hopes to sneak into the kitchen and make a quick, efficient dinner for your boyfriend and his friends. "There you are my sweetness" you instantly freeze at the voice you know oh-so well. "Hey, I was just on my way to make you and your friends some food" you greet, forcing your voice not to waver and smile not to falter from your lips. "The food is already supposed to be done!!" you flinch at the sudden change of emotion. "What else were you doing the entire day?! You were probably flirting and drooling all over that other friend of yours. What's his name again?" you still stand unmoved and untouched.

"I asked you a question sweetheart" he growls, grabbing your face with his one hand and squashing your cheeks. "Loki" you manage to say. "But I wasn't with him today" the moment the words slipped out you immediately regretted it. "So you admit that you are with him every. other. single. damn day?!" he yells in your face, the alcohol lingering in his breath. "We work together... baby" you throw in a pet name, hoping to coax him into letting you go. "So you weren't at work today?!" the anger is becoming more clear and you close your eyes, hoping to feel less intimidated. "No" is all you can get out before the first slap reaches your cheek. "You're a stupid, dumb, girlfriend. You know that right? You are a no-good little servant for me, right?! You are supposed to get an income to support me!!!" his hands were now on your shoulders, shaking you wildly and pushing your back against a wall. 

A punch. Another punch. Another one. A slap. You bang your head against the wall with the battering. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!" you cry out. "You should have thought about that, before you screwed up!" One last punch to your nose, is the cherry on the cake. The blood splatters from your mouth, lips and nose and you slide to the ground, cowering in fear, mumbling words that neither you or your boyfriend understands. "Get up and make the food, sweetheart" he forces you up by your wrist, gritting through his teeth breaking clenched jaw. But you are tired. Numb. In pain. You slide back to the ground, not having any strength left in your legs to carry the weight of your body and burdens laid down on your shoulders. 

A filthy, calloused hand wraps around your throat and hoist you up, using the wall to support your back. "You should know better than to disobey me by now" You try to gasp out a plead, an apology, an excuse, anything... but nothing comes. With each of your boyfriend's words his hand squeezes tighter. Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. The spots were swimming before your vision. Your breath was getting shorter - the few breaths you were able to get. Your legs were kicking weakly and your hands were trying to claw his hand away from your skin. The tears were freely rolling down your bruised cheeks, mixing with the crimson spilling from your, presumably broken, nose and split lips.

It was a few more seconds that felt like hours, before you gave into the thought of death. You stopped fighting, kicking and clawing and rest your head numbly against the wall. The pressure on your throat was relieved and you fell to the ground. You wanted him to choke you to death, that way you would never have to worry about him again. "Why did you let go?!" you yelled at him, eyes closed, nose stuffy, and rib-breaking sobs escaping you. Somewhere near you there was talking, yelling, doors slamming and then quietness.

A hand on your shoulder made you flinch. But the hand wasn't calloused, it was delicate and soothing. The hand wasn't dirty and smelling of smoke it was clean and smelling of fresh pine wood. It wasn't a hand of harm, it was one of tenderness and concern. There was a voice, but you couldn't be sure. You cautiously opened your eyes, scared of another beating, kick, choking. "Y/N!" the voice dawned on you, but it sounded far and under water. Another hand touched your other shoulder and another lazy flinch wrecked your body. "Y/N" this time you heard your name more clearly and the shaking of your shoulders brought you a step closer to the surface.

One more mentioning of your name brought you back entirely and you plead for safety, no harm... love. "It's me Y/N, it's Loki" You just stare at him. How did he find you? Was he really there? What was he gonna think about you now? He slowly sits down in front of you, cups your face in his hands and assesses your face for every detail of injury. His hand hovers over your crushed airway and he looks at you for confirmation. A simple nod from you is enough for Loki to know that you have given in, you've stopped struggling, you've accepted your fate. His cool hand touches your burning neck and you moan satisfied at the relief of Loki's magic relieving some pain, temporarily. “What were you doing here?” “This morning I told you I’d come check up on you after work, but you just hung up so I took it upon myself” There’s a moment of silence "How long has this been going on?" he whispers unsurely, not wanting to disturb the peace and make you uncomfortable. 

"Just a month" you sob. "It's not just - !" he begins loud, but the way you force yourself deeper into the corner has him toning it down. He moves to your side and drapes an arm  over your shoulders. "It's not just a month, Y/N. Why didn't you tell me?" "I wanted to but-but I couldn't. And I wanted your help, but I didn't k-know how to ask for it" he sees your regret filled eyes and is quick to assure you. "It's okay my darling, I've got you. You are safe now. I won't let anything happen to you again. I promise" you hum in response and make your head comfortable on his shoulder. "I'll take care of everything, just rest, you’re safe now."

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TAGLIST: (if your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you)

@buckyzzrogers @buckyandstevesbitch @ooopsthiswasnotsupposedtohappen

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