#Hydra Vein | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ginnsbaker · 28 days

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My Sundown

Summary: You’ve been a Hydra agent for as long as you can remember, when Wanda Maximoff and her brother, Pietro, volunteers for Hydra's human experiments.

Word count: 10K+ | Tags: Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader | Warnings: Only mentions of smut. Hurt/comfort. Reader is a little older than Wanda. Some angst. | A/N: I missed writing for Wanda, and have always wanted to write canon-ish oneshots for the MCU character. Main Masterlist

When they first bring her in, she looks like she's been through hell—eyes hollow, skin pale, a storm simmering just beneath the surface. Her hands tremble, not from fear, but from the sheer, unbridled power flowing through her veins. The room seems to shrink under the weight of it, as if even the walls are aware of what she’s capable of. The other recruits are scared and jittery, but she’s different. Her brother too—both rough around the edges, like two sides of the same scarred coin.

“Where did they round up these rats now?” you mutter to Lev, who’s standing dutifully beside you—the only person you've let close enough to be called a friend in all your years with Hydra.

“Sokovian volunteers,” he corrects you, eyes fixed straight ahead, mirroring your own unblinking focus on the twins. Maybe he feels the strange energy coming off them too, or maybe it’s just the routine numbness that sets in after years of blindly following orders.

You nod slightly, though the term volunteer feels like a cruel joke. No one truly volunteers for this.

“Agent.”

Dr. List’s voice yanks you out of your thoughts, dreary and impersonal. He calls everyone that way, as if you're just another tool, interchangeable and anonymous. It’s an intentional tactic—strip away the names, and you strip any sense of humanity. Without a name, you’re not a person; you’re just a weapon at their disposal.

But you know he means you.

You step forward. “Sir,” you reply, maintaining a ramrod straight posture, your eyes fixed on a spot just beside his perpetually scowling face. It seems all villains share that same dour expression, but if this woman—this girl—makes it through the experiments and officially joins the ranks, she might just break the mold, looking more like an angel than a monster. You quickly shake off the thought, stifling a grimace at the odd turn your thoughts have taken.

When you risk a quick glance at her, you catch a ghost of a smirk playing on her lips, as if she knows exactly what you were just thinking.

“You’re to oversee Wanda Maximoff’s progress,” Dr. List continues without sparing you a second glance. “Ensure she complies. If she doesn’t…” He lets the threat hang, but you don't need him to spell it out. You know what Hydra does to those who don't meet expectations.

“And the boy?” you ask, genuinely curious about the other twin.

Dr. List gives you a sharp look, like he suspects something. Questions are frowned upon here, but ever since you laid eyes on Wanda, a persistent tingling has crept up the back of your neck.

To put it bluntly, she unnerves you, and you'd much prefer to deal with her brother.

“Strucker decided to…take a more hands-on approach with him,” Dr. List says.

“Understood, sir,” you reply crisply, reaffirming your commitment to your orders. You steal another glance at Wanda, only to feel a rush of heat when you realize she’s been watching you the entire time.

Wanda looks even more formidable once she’s showered and changed into fresh clothes. You can’t decide if it’s because the sinister gleam in her eyes remains untouched or because the grime and hardships of life on the streets have been washed away, revealing a haunting beauty beneath the dirt. Clean, she’s striking—but that beauty only makes her more dangerous. You’ve tried to delay any direct interaction with her, but this morning, Dr. List visited to follow up on the initial assessment, leaving you no more time to postpone. After a week of stalling, you’re out of excuses, and there’s a lot of ground to cover.

As she steps out of the small bathroom, her damp hair clings to her shoulders, softening her otherwise sharp features. The moment she becomes aware of your presence, her gaze locks onto you, and she begins to comb the wet tendrils back with her slender fingers. Your hand tightens around your keycard involuntarily as you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Wanda is just like any other volunteer who entered the organization and never left its walls to see the light of day. Besides, you’re armed, and Wanda is not. It’s ridiculous to be this on edge around someone who's at a disadvantage.

“You,” Wanda murmurs, her accent rolling off her tongue like a slow, winding river.

“Shall we begin?” you ask, keeping your tone even and detached. You can’t afford to let her see how much she frighte—affects you.

Wanda ignores your request. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, studying you with a keenness that makes your skin prickle. You meet her stare, determined not to show any cracks, even though your heart's hammering away.

Finally, she nods—a small, almost imperceptible movement.

You clear your throat and motion towards the small cot given to them as beds. “Please, have a seat,” you say.

This time, Wanda complies without a word.

You glance around the room, searching for a seat, and silently berate yourself for not arranging one beforehand. It’s a small oversight, but it makes you feel foolish. With no other option, you settle against the farthest wall, opposite her, and lean against it, though it doesn’t make you feel any more grounded than you did a second ago.

In your hand is a file detailing everything Hydra knows about her, which isn’t much. You open it with a practiced ease, flipping through the pages, but you’re aptly aware of her eyes on you, watching your every move.

“Wanda Maximoff,” you start. “The procedures you're about to undergo are highly experimental. Hydra won't be held responsible for any injuries, no matter if they're permanent or temporary.”

Including death. But you are prohibited from disclosing this to avoid causing panic or stress among the subjects.

Wanda says nothing, her expression unreadable, but you can sense she’s lingering on a thought. Not sure what it is, you go on, falling back on the lines you've memorized these last few months.

“These procedures will enhance your natural abilities, giving you powers beyond what you may or may not currently possess. However, there are risks involved. Do you understand the nature of these risks?”

Wanda nods again. It’s the same answer you’ve received from countless other volunteers, most of whom had no idea what they were truly signing up for. But there’s something different about her, something in the way she holds herself that tells you she knows exactly what she’s getting into—and she’s not afraid.

“There will be a series of physical and psychological evaluations. We will push you to your breaking point and beyond. It is crucial that you cooperate fully. Resistance will only make the process more difficult, both for you and for us.”

You scan her face for any sign of fear or hesitation, but she's a blank slate. It’s as if she’s made peace with whatever fate awaits her here. That bothers you more than you’d care to admit.

“We will also be conducting interviews throughout the process,” you continue. “These will assess your mental state, your thoughts, your fears. Everything you say will be documented, and nothing will be private.”

Wanda's eyes narrow a touch, the first sign of any emotion since she sat down. It’s subtle, but you notice it. Maybe the thought of her mind being picked apart like a lab specimen is getting to her more than the threat of physical harm. Or it could be something else entirely.

“We’ll begin the physical tests tomorrow,” you say, closing the file and hugging it to your chest. “For now, you should rest and eat as much as you like. Your room is monitored constantly. If you need anything, just ask, though your movement around the facility will be restricted.”

The mask of indifference slips back into place. Wanda leans back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows in a display of casual ease.

“Do you have any questions?” you ask, mostly because you have to, not because you really want to know. You figure she won't ask anything—most are too scared or too defeated to speak up.

But Wanda Maximoff isn't most people.

“Why do you do this?”

You can’t help it—a faint smile begins to creep across your face at her question. Most volunteers, when they ask anything at all, are fixated on their own impending ordeal, too scared of what's coming.

But Wanda isn't asking about herself; she's asking about you. It feels like forever since anyone showed that kind of interest.

Pausing at the doorway, you turn your head just enough for her to see the profile of your face.

“I do what I'm told,” you say, dodging the deeper question she posed—the real why behind your actions. The truth is, you stopped asking why a long time ago. Reasons tend to blur into excuses when moral lines are crossed in an organization you once trusted.

You're already tapping your keycard against the scanner when Wanda speaks again.

“Will doing what you're told bring them back?”

Her question spins you around so fast it's almost like whiplash. How did Wanda know about that? Was it just a wild guess meant to throw you off? Whatever it was, it worked.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t even remember the last time you even thought about them. You've never shared this with anyone—not even Lev. Only a handful of Hydra figures were ever privy to your past.

Wanda couldn't possibly know. Unless—

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda says, her tone dismissive as she curls into a fetal position, turning her back to you.

If your theory holds, Wanda might be the key Hydra has been searching for—the one who can unlock the powers of the scepter that have eluded so many others. Her apparent ability to read minds could be the very breakthrough Dr. List has been waiting for.

Finding yourself hesitating to report this discovery surprises you. It’s almost ironic how your conscience decides to kick in now, just when Hydra's goal seems tantalizingly close with the acquisition of the twins. You know what Hydra would do if they realized just how special she is, and the thought of them twisting her into something monstrous is something you can’t even begin to imagine.

In the days that follow, you keep quiet about your suspicions regarding Wanda’s innate abilities. You tell yourself that Dr. List will probably uncover them through his experiments soon enough. It’s definitely not because you're worried about what they might do if they decide to fast-track her program.

Yes, you’re just staying out of it, certainly not because you want to protect her.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your next face-to-face with Wanda comes a week later.

Though you have merely been observing her through a two-way mirror, you've been plagued by sleepless nights since your last meeting, and not even the strongest sedatives at your disposal have helped. Thoughts of her well-being nag at you, despite Hydra's strict rules limiting interaction between volunteers and handlers to prevent any emotional attachments. Such attachments have formed before, and Hydra has always dealt with them ruthlessly.

When you enter her room, she's in the same position as before—curled up on her cot, making herself appear small and almost childlike. She looks up as the door closes behind you, her eyes meeting yours with a quiet recognition.

As you step closer, the hollowness of her cheeks, the dark circles under her eyes, and her pale complexion are unmistakable. The word weathered hardly does justice to the toll her first week has taken. You know exactly what she’s been through. The tests here aren’t just tests—they’re torture, meant to break people down, body and mind. Even with her powers and confidence, Wanda shows the same signs of strain. She's slight, frail, and clearly, she's had as rough a time as anyone else here.

This time, you come prepared with a metal chair and a freshly prepared tea set next to it, and take a seat across from her.

“How are you holding up?” you ask, although the answer seems painfully obvious.

Wanda shrugs, barely moving, as if the effort to appear okay is too much for her. But then she surprises you.

“How long until Hydra enhances my powers?”

You weren’t expecting that. After everything she’s been through, she’s asking for more? You thought she’d be wary, maybe even broken by now. But the question says otherwise. She’s been through hell, and she’s still pushing forward, demanding more. Is she courting death?

“You seem in a hurry,” you say, hiding your worry behind a soft chuckle.

Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t come here to wait around. If they want to use me, they need to make me stronger.”

Use me.

How disconcerting. She’s asking for more—more pain, more trials. As if everything she’s endured isn’t enough, as if she needs it to become something greater. It’s reckless and foolish, to say the least.

“We’re moving as fast as we can—”

“Move faster.”

“Wanda,” you say quietly. “What you’re asking for... it could break you.”

“I’m already broken,” she declares, cold and matter-of-fact. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

It’s only when you notice the disgust in her eyes that you realize you’ve been looking at her with pity. Wanda is about to snap back, likely to tell you she doesn’t need your sympathy, when her expression shifts abruptly to one of curiosity.

She tilts her head, studying you—or maybe, with the mirth in her eye, it’s more like she’s mocking you.

“You look at me like that again, and I’ll ask you a question,” Wanda says, her voice low, almost a whisper.

You stiffen, uncertain of what's coming next, but before you can say anything, she continues.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

The question startles a laugh out of you, abrupt and a bit too loud—almost like you're trying to convince both yourself and Wanda how absurd she’s being. But as the laughter dies down, you feel your face heat up, your cheeks flushing a telltale red that you can't hide.

“No,” you say, your gaze dropping to the floor as you shake your head. You clasp your hands behind your back, one finger nervously picking at a cuticle. “This isn’t what this is about.”

Wanda smirks slightly, her lips twitching, amused by your discomfort. “Isn't it?”

For a split second, you start to doubt everything. Did you really want to sleep with her? It's been ages since you've even considered intimacy with anyone—maybe too long. Life here doesn't leave space for that kind of thinking, and even if it did, the situation wouldn't allow it. Your heart's been shattered so often you're sure there's nothing left to give—especially not to someone you've only known for a week.

Wait—love?

This is, at best, lust—nothing more.

“No,” you repeat with more conviction.

Wanda’s smirk fades into a slow, knowing smile. “Fine. Just know the offer stands if you ever change your mind.”

A proposition. It’s not the first time you’ve received one, but this offer sticks with you longer than you’d like. Wanda’s already spent too much time in your thoughts, and you’re desperate to shake her off and get back to the task at hand. But she makes it maddeningly hard to do so.

Without looking at her, you clear your throat and begin the routine interview. You refuse to focus on the fact that she’s just openly considered a physical encounter with you—and you’re definitely not considering it in return.

“Have you noticed any unusual side effects since the last session? Headaches, nausea, dizziness?” you ask, skipping the pleasantries.

“No,” she says dryly. “No headaches. No nausea. No dizziness.”

You jot down her answers, ignoring her evident disinterest in the proceedings.

“Any changes in your sleep pattern?” you continue.

“No.”

“Any unusual pain or discomfort?” you ask, forcing yourself to meet her gaze, but her focus is on the rings on her fingers. The prisoners—volunteers, you correct yourself—aren't supposed to keep any personal items. It baffles you how she managed to hold on to those cheap pieces of metal and silver.

It takes Wanda a moment to respond. “Just the usual soreness.”

You suspect it's more than just soreness. She’s probably downplaying the pain, so you make a note beside her answer.

“Alright, we’ll keep an eye on that. Any changes in your mood? Irritability, anxiety, anything like that?”

Wanda shrugs. “Depends on the company, I suppose.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Noted. We’ll stick with the same regimen for now. Any concerns or questions about the next phase?”

“What happened to them?” Wanda asks, steering the interview off course.

Annoyance flares up as she probes again, prying into your business. “Don’t you already know?” you snap, your patience wearing thin.

But Wanda doesn’t even blink. She isn’t scared, and that just irks you even more. She should be, if she knew what you’ve done to others who’ve pushed your buttons. You’ve never hesitated to throw your weight around with those who make your job harder.

“Sometimes what really happened and how we remember it are two entirely different stories,” she says, taking a deep breath before she continues. “Our mind protects us from the truth. It obscures what’s real, and what’s not becomes all we remember.”

You're stone-still, your mind drifting back to the past Wanda keeps prodding at. You don't even have a picture of your family anymore. Their voices are gone from your memory, and you're barely holding onto their faces. It used to tear you apart, thinking about them, but now there's just emptiness. You realize Wanda can’t rattle you—she has no leverage because there’s nothing left inside you to disrupt.

You’ve got nothing.

“Y/N?” Wanda presses, her features tightening with concern.

You consider throwing her blunt words right back at her, but you hold off. Instead, you set the clipboard down on the counter with a soft clack. Turning to the medical cart, you grab a tray of needles and tools, then bring it over to her bed. Wanda's eyes widen slightly, and she scoots back as you sit down on the edge of the mattress. It’s satisfying to finally see her react with something other than that usual smug, unshakable attitude. You pick up a syringe, fill it with a bright yellow liquid from an unmarked bottle, and swipe a cotton ball soaked in alcohol over the top.

“What’s that?” Wanda asks evenly, though you can detect traces of doubt in it that suggest she’s trying to put up a brave front.

“Supplements.”

Wanda raises a skeptical brow.

You lift the syringe slightly, letting it catch the light so she can see exactly what you’re holding.

“May I?” you gesture toward her arm.

Wanda eyes you warily, then gives a quick nod.

With her consent, you scoot closer until your knees almost touch. You gently roll up the sleeve of her scrubs, exposing her arm. This close, you can see the goosebumps on her skin and feel the slight tremors running through her. You hadn't noticed before, but she's shivering—not from the cold, but probably from a fever.

Instinctively, you press your palm against her forehead. Wanda flinches but doesn’t pull away. Slowly, she settles into your touch and lets out a small sigh.

“You're hot,” you blurt out, and then quickly realize the unintended double entendre. Fortunately, Wanda lets it pass without comment. You retract your hand and hold the syringe up to her arm, poised but something stops you.

“What are you waiting for?” Wanda prompts impatiently.

You're thinking of straying from the usual protocol, knowing the yellow meds might worsen Wanda's condition, especially with her fever spiking. Deciding against it, you put the syringe down and grab another bottle off the cart, this one filled with a clear liquid.

“Change of plans,” you murmur, prepping the new syringe. You nod at her for her arm, and she shifts closer, making it easier for you. When you depress the plunger, it's quick—so quick that Wanda barely feels the needle's prick.

You pull out the needle and press a small bandage onto the spot. “All done,” you announce.

Wanda massages her arm, feeling no real pain at the injection site. “T-Thanks,” she murmurs softly.

You acknowledge her gratitude with a nod and start collecting your notebook and tools. As you rise to leave, Wanda's hand shoots out, her fingers wrapping around your wrist urgently. You turn, meeting her striking, green eyes.

“I’m sorry about your family,” she murmurs quietly. Her words solidify your suspicion: she came to Hydra with powers already in tow. Mind reading or memory extraction would be invaluable to Hydra, and now, with even more power at your fingertips, you find yourself hesitating to use it.

If Dr. List catches wind of your hesitations, the reprisals will be brutal.

You glance down pointedly at where she's holding your hand, but Wanda doesn’t let go.

“It was a long time ago,” you whisper.

“Time doesn't really heal that kind of loss,” she says, still holding onto you.

“No, but you learn to live with it,” you reply, feeling the truth of your own words.

Wanda's hold slackens but remains. You feel awkward standing there, yet something holds you back from pulling away. You hadn't realized until now how starved you were for such a simple, human connection.

“I lost my parents the same way,” she shares.

“I'm sorry,” you say, and you really mean it. You can't read Wanda like she seems to read you, but in this brief moment, with the walls down, you decide to ask, “Is that why you came to us? To avenge your parents?”

Wanda's grip loosens completely, and she lets go of your wrist. You rub the spot where her fingers were, still feeling the warmth she left behind.

“‘Avenge’,” she spits out. She draws her knees to her chest and hugs them close. “I hate that word. Pietro and I, we're here to stop them. I wish… I wish they’d just leave Sokovia alone. They won’t leave because we can’t fight back.”

Your own past with Hydra comes to mind as she speaks. Back then, you joined because you were out of options. No country to fight for, no people to call yours. It strikes you how different Wanda's motivations are—rooted in something far more personal and noble. She deserves more than what Hydra can offer.

Wanda looks at you, waiting for an answer. When you don't say anything, she pushes, “Do you think we made the right decision coming here?”

You're all too aware of Hydra’s real agenda. They're not about peace. They're here to extend their control, to bend the world around their so-called divine mission.

“Sometimes, you don't know if it’s the right choice until it's too late to change it,” you say, knowing it’s not much of an answer. It's just the bitter truth you've come to know. It's all you can offer Wanda.

“Can you do me a favor, Y/N? Will you look after Pietro?”

The same way you’ve been looking out for me, Wanda thinks to herself, relieved that there’s only one telepath in the room.

“No promises,” you say.

Wanda gives a slight nod and starts to withdraw again. She settles back down on the cot, turning away from you, the conversation clearly over.

Lev sneaks into your room just before midnight, the door giving a soft creak as it swings open. Though friends, you typically keep to your own spaces. You blink sleepily at him, fighting to sit up and shake off the grogginess.

“Dr. List decided to skip ahead,” Lev says in a rush, closing the door with a gentle click. “He’s moved forward with exposing the twins to the scepter.”

“When?” You're wide awake now, sitting bolt upright in bed.

Lev’s eyes dart to the small window in your room before returning to you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “An hour ago.”

That can’t be good. It’s far sooner than anyone had anticipated. Dr. List’s decision to advance the timeline without further testing could have unpredictable consequences. You swing your legs off the bed, your brain ticking through the possible scenarios.

“What’s the status now? How did Wan—the twins react?” you ask, grabbing your jacket and shoes and throwing them on without taking your eyes off Lev.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. They rushed them to the Observation Chamber right after the exposure. Everything’s been kept under wraps.”

You pace a few steps, mulling over your next move. Exposure to the scepter has been lethal for everyone. Even with Wanda's unique abilities, there’s no guarantee she’ll pull through when others haven't.

“We need more information. Can you get access to the observation logs?”

Lev nods, though his expression shows his apprehension. “I’ll try. But security has been tighter since the exposure.”

You catch the anxious twist of his mouth at the idea of sneaking around, and choose to spare him the risk. His relief is palpable when you tell him, “I'll handle it myself.”

He sighs in relief. “Be careful…”

Only a select few can get into the Observation Chamber, and your badge isn’t on that list. You're going to need something stronger than just caution.

You slip your underwear back on, feeling Laura’s eyes tracing the contours of your body.

After Lev left, you headed straight for her. Laura Brown, the Hydra director's daughter, hadn't seen you in almost a year, but the nature of your previous encounters left little doubt she'd be open to reconnecting.

Laura reclines on the bed, a sheet loosely draped around her, smirking as she watches you. “I knew you'd come back eventually,” she purrs, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

You straighten up, deliberately avoiding her eyes as you button your shirt. “I need a favor, Laura.”

She leans back against the headboard, the sheet falling to her waist and revealing her bare chest. “This sounds serious.”

“I need to get into the Observation Chamber. Tonight,” you say. You despise asking her—or anyone, really—for favors, but you need to see Wanda. It's imperative.

Laura's eyebrows go up, her smile growing. “Direct and desperate. What's in it for me?”

“What do you want?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

She thinks it over, then answers, “Keep me company tonight, no strings attached. Just like the old days.”

“Done.”

Laura claps her hands, clearly pleased, and tosses you the badge from the bedside table.

You pick it up, feeling a bit degraded, like you're picking up coins someone's thrown your way. “I'll be right back,” you promise.

The guards give you weird looks as you show up at the Observation Chamber. They had clear orders: only Dr. List or Baron Strucker can go in. But dropping the director’s daughter’s name does the trick. You flash her badge and they let you pass, no more questions asked.

The hallway is pitch-black. This place had been sleeping until now, woken up by the fact that Pietro and Wanda Maximoff hadn’t died like the others who met the scepter. Clearly labeled doors mark the new, grim function of the space.

You think about heading straight to Wanda's room, but you remember her earlier request and decide to check on Pietro first.

The soft beeping of monitors greets you as soon as you step inside his room. He's in rough shape, alive but barely hanging on. You quickly check the chart posted next to the door—it shows low blood pressure and a high dosage of Epinephrine administered, with a note that his chances of survival stand at only 57% as of 11:30 PM.

He looks much thinner and more worn than the last time you saw him, his condition evidently worse. His eyes are bloodshot, his skin pale and stretched tight over his bones. As you move closer, you notice his body trembling, a sheen of sweat covering him despite the room's chill.

Quickly, you pull the extra covers from beneath his bed and wrap them around him, trying to stabilize his shivering. Then, you snag a water bottle from a nearby stand, helping him take slow, measured sips.

Pietro looks at you, his eyes filled with confusion and pain, struggling to form the words. “Who are you?”

“Just someone who made your sister a promise,” you say, scooping up some water in your palm and gently drizzling it over his head. Pietro sighs in relief. “Get some rest now, and try not to die.”

His eyes flutter shut in seconds, his breath smoothing out as sleep claims him. You linger just a moment to make sure he's really out, then hurry off towards Wanda's room. Your heart pounds in your chest, fear pulsing through you. Pietro was in rough shape; how bad might Wanda be? You cling to a shred of hope that she's holding up better.

The air stays heavy as you enter Wanda’s quarters. You tread lightly, making sure not to disturb her sleep, and check the medical chart by her bed. Unlike Pietro’s dire prognosis, Wanda's stats are steady, but still troubling. Her breaths are regular, without the distressing shivers that torment her brother.

What strikes you is how normal, how peacefully she's sleeping, despite her recent exposure to Loki’s scepter.

Relieved to see her condition isn’t more severe, you end up at the foot of her bed. There isn’t much to do after confirming she’s stable, and you know you should head back to Laura. But leaving Wanda’s side proves difficult once you're there. Almost immediately, your mind floods with ideas on how to get her out of Hydra’s clutches. If they fully realized her potential, it wouldn't just be dangerous for her—it'd be catastrophic for anyone in their path. Internally, you start plotting escape routes and thinking about who might be willing to help.

It’s strange to think how you went from one of Hydra’s most devoted agents to scheming against them.

Lost in your plans, you're jolted back to the present when you feel a gentle nudge against your thigh. Wanda's foot is pressing against you. She's awake. You look up to find her eyes open, wary and searching.

“Y/N,” she murmurs, her voice raspy from lack of use. “What—what happened?”

You subtly shift on the bed, making sure her toes aren't touching you anymore. You're not sure when you became so acutely aware of Wanda’s proximity, or of the points where your bodies meet.

“What do you remember before all this?” you ask.

She rubs her forehead, straining to recall. “There was a room... a stone emerging from the scepter. Bright lights… then nothing.”

You nod, already knowing half of what Wanda just told you. This is the first time anyone has lived to tell about their experience with the scepter, and you were hoping for more insights into how it unleashes its power. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about trying it yourself, wondering if you could resist its effects. Being Hydra, curiosity about power was a constant temptation.

“You weren't supposed to be exposed to the scepter yet,” you admit quietly. “Dr. List sped things up, maybe because he suspected—”

“Pietro,” she cuts in, her thoughts finally catching up. “Was he exposed to it too?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widen, clouded with worry. “Is he okay?”

“He’s alive,” you say. “I just saw him before coming here. He's stable, but it’s precarious.”

Wanda’s face crumples as soon as the words leave your lips. Before you can react, she throws her arms around you, her face buried in your shoulder. You freeze for a moment, uncertain how to respond. It’s been so long since you’ve held someone like this, since you’ve allowed yourself to care enough to even consider it. But then you feel it—tears, warm and wet against your neck. She’s crying.

After a moment, you hesitantly wrap your arms around her, holding her as she trembles against you. You can feel her fear, her desperation. It cuts through your defenses, the ones you’ve built so carefully over the years.

You tighten your hold on her, offering what little comfort you can, but inside, you’re battling your own fear. You can’t afford to care about her this much—not here, not now. But as you hold her, feeling every shake of her body, you know it’s already too late.

Wanda's sobs slowly subside, and you pull back slightly, intent on offering some kind of reassurance despite how foreign it feels to you. You reach up, brushing away her tears with your thumb, trying to find the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, as your hand lingers on her cheek, she pins you with a quiet stare. Before you realize what’s happening, Wanda leans in and presses her lips softly against yours.

The kiss is brief, just a fraction of a second, but it leaves you utterly breathless. She pulls back almost immediately, watching you, waiting to see how you’ll react. For a heartbeat, you're stunned, but then something ignites inside you, something you’ve been holding back without even recognizing it.

Acting on pure impulse, you reach up, grasp the back of her neck, and pull her in for another kiss. In an instant, you take control effortlessly, letting the animalistic and Hydra part of you come to the forefront. Your thumb presses roughly against her chin, coaxing her mouth open, and you slide your tongue in, staking your claim. Wanda responds with a gasp, her hands clutching at your shoulders, but you’re too far gone to think about anything except the taste of her, the way her body molds against yours.

You tilt her head back, deepening the kiss further, your other hand sliding down to grip her waist, pulling her closer still. The feel of her, the heat of her skin under your fingers, it’s intoxicating, and you can’t get enough. You've never allowed yourself to want someone this much. Just as you think you can't hold back any longer, Wanda's hand captures yours and guides it under her shirt. You're startled to find out she's wearing nothing underneath when your knuckles brush against her hardened nipple. That unexpected discovery is what compels you to pull back.

Wanda's lips leave yours with a wet sound, and she begins kissing down your jaw to your neck.

“Wanda, wait—”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she says. Her breath is hot against your skin, and you feel her tongue trace a line up to your pulse point, leaving a fiery trail that makes you shiver. “You can claim your reward, you can have me.”

Her words snap you out of the haze, that single word—reward—ringing in your ears like a warning bell. You quickly place your hands on her shoulders, pushing her back gently but firmly.

Wanda blinks, confusion and hurt flashing in her eyes as she looks up at you. “What’s wrong?” She knows she’s attractive and has already glimpsed your desire for her during your visits, reading it in your thoughts. It’s why she finds your rejection so absurd—frustrating, even, given her openness.

“I'm not here for that,” you say, your voice coming out rougher than you intended.

“Then why are you here?”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, unaccustomed to openly discussing your feelings. “I came to see how you're doing after... after the scepter.”

“I'm fine,” she answers flatly.

You nod, still feeling the residual heat of her closeness. “Do you feel any different?” you ask, partly out of concern but mostly to shift the conversation elsewhere.

“I'm just tired,” Wanda says, closing her eyes and running a hand through her tousled dark hair. “Can we do this tomorrow?” She sounds a bit let down, assuming you're here just for a routine check—looking for any new powers or changes—as if she had hoped for something more personal.

“I'm sorry,” you quickly say. “I’m not here on any official orders. In fact, I shouldn't even be here.”

This revelation softens her look, her eyes narrowing slightly with renewed interest.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “I'm working on getting you and Pietro out of here. It's not set yet, but—”

“Out of here?” Wanda cuts in, her eyebrows knitting together in puzzlement. “Why would I want to leave?”

“You got what you came for, right? The power of the scepter? Now you can leave. Hydra isn’t what you think,” you explain, trying to make her see the danger.

“Look who's acting all self-righteous all of a sudden. You've been here for years, and I've seen you do things,” she retorts sharply.

“Stop looking into my mind,” you snap, irritated by her knack for sifting through your thoughts without permission and using your past against you. Just because she can doesn’t mean she should.

“You’re saying I’m wrong?” she sneers.

You shake your head. “Look, I’m just trying to help—”

“If you really want to help, just do your job.”

Her words hit you harder than any physical blow could. You knew better than to let someone get this close, to allow your emotions to cloud your judgment. But there’s no one to blame here but yourself. Wanda didn't even have to do much to earn your solicitude; it was your own doing, your own need to make things right that led you here.

Hydra’s training kicks in like second nature, and you shut down the emotions before they can show, your face hardening into a mask.

“Alright, Wanda. I'll do just that.”

It’s easier the second time you’re with Laura that night.

After Wanda's dismissal, you find Laura’s body to be the comfort you need. You lose yourself in her, the way she responds to every touch, every move you make. Pushing everything else from your mind, you focus solely on her, making her come again and again until she’s too bone-tired to do anything but black out beside you.

After it's over, you slip out of her bed, leaving her to sleep off the night’s weariness, and return to your room. You don't think about Wanda. Not even once.

In the following days, Wanda's recovery is swift—too swift for your level of clearance. Dr. List decides she’s beyond your oversight and assigns her to a higher clearance team. You’re left dealing with new recruits, volunteers who are eager yet naïve, none of whom survive the brutal exposure to the scepter. Each failure hardens you a little more, cements the necessity of detachment.

But even with countless deaths on their hands, Hydra doesn't back down. If anything, they’re more driven now, hungry for more power, spurred on by the success of the twins. Pietro develops superhuman speed, a skill Hydra quickly puts to use by dispatching him to enemy territories for intel. Wanda’s abilities become more varied, showing signs of what could be categorized as psionic powers. She demonstrates capabilities that suggest telekinesis, manipulating objects without touching them, and telepathy—which she employs at her whim.

Sometimes you wonder if she ever peeks into your mind anymore. But then, with the kind of power she wields, why would she even bother with what you're thinking? You're not special. Not even your badge, which doesn't get you into sections of the base without currying favor with Laura Brown first.

The Sokovian base is sprawling, and encounters with either of the Maximoff twins are rare but unavoidable. Pietro remembers your visit that night. Now and then, he nods at you politely. Wanda, on the other hand, acts as if you don’t exist. If you pass her in the hallways, she looks through you as if you're invisible. So, you make it a point to stay out of her way, blending into the dull walls and shadows as much as you can.

This detachment suits you in a way. It allows you to focus on your duties, on surviving one day at a time in an environment where the stakes are always high and the consequences often lethal.

It leaves you with nothing to lose, because there's no one left to lose.

Weeks pass quietly until rumors start floating around that Wanda's been seeing someone inside the complex. It’s hard to call it dating, really, since concepts like love and trust struggle to take root in a place as bleak as this. It’s probably just two people keeping each other company through the colder nights. Still, you can’t shake off how much this bothers you.

But it's not surprising. The twins' popularity has only grown, especially since, months later, no one else has matched their extraordinary feat of surviving an Infinity Stone—a term you picked up only after Hydra discovered what was really behind Loki's scepter.

Sometimes, you find yourself observing Wanda from afar, trying to figure out if there’s any substance to the rumors. Who makes her laugh? Who does she choose to sit with at meals? The more you notice your own scrutiny, the more you recognize a feeling of jealousy stirring within you, an emotion that’s prevalent among your peers but not in this regard. You're bewildered and annoyed by your own reaction—why should who Wanda spends time with matter to you? Whatever she does, whoever she fucks—it's none of your business.

You hate this feeling, but you combat it by heading to Laura’s room every night, as if she’s the cure you need to keep yourself in check.

“They’ll betray us someday,” Lev murmurs as you both amble through the dense woods, taking a rare break from the base for a smoke. He breathes out slowly, watching the smoke curl upwards. You don’t have to ask to know he’s talking about the twins.

“No sooner than Hydra will throw us under the bus when the Avengers show up,” you reply, stepping around a fallen branch. “We’re all expendable. You know that, right?”

Lev takes a deep drag, his gaze fixed on the trail ahead. “Yeah, I know,” he says at last, releasing a plume of smoke. There’s something in his eyes, a look that tells you he’s not saying all he could about the twins.

You eye him suspiciously. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Lev glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's deciding how much to share. After a moment, he nods.

“Okay, I wasn't planning on telling you this yet, but I've been handed a special assignment—the Maximoff Contingency Plan,” he reveals.

You scoff at him. “You’re the contingency plan?”

“No, not just me,” Lev chuckles darkly as he tosses his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. “I'm involved, but it's more than that. We're working on a weapon, one that borrows from the tech of the Infinity Stone.”

The seriousness of what he's saying sinks in. Leveraging the power of an Infinity Stone means they're not messing around.

“And what's this weapon supposed to do?” you ask, not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Lev’s expression darkens. “You know what weapons are supposed to do,” he says tersely, turning to head back. “Let’s go.”

Hydra does not tolerate treachery. Even the mildest punishment is a swift death—a quick end, but an end all the same.

It’s only a matter of time before the Avengers find the Sokovian Base. Tensions had been mounting and Hydra's movements had become increasingly aggressive, drawing unwanted attention. When it all goes down, you’re in your room, scrambling to suit up and arm yourself with pistols—not to confront the Avengers, who are essentially gods, but to fight for your way out.

As the base descends into turmoil, you hear that Wanda and Pietro are attempting to escape. Hydra has a ruthless protocol for such situations: eliminate the entire unit to prevent any leaks. It's cleaner to destroy and rebuild than to let loose ends compromise the organization. Knowing about the contingency plan to eliminate the twins, you grab your radio and contact Lev, asking where he is.

“You’re just in time. I need backup. I've got Wanda Maximoff in my sights, waiting for the right moment to take her down,” he radios back.

“On it, I’m with you,” you reply, feeling the sweat bead on your forehead as you move toward his location. When you get there, you find Lev, poised and ready, his eyes fixed on the target through the scope of his rifle. You scan the surroundings, looking for hazards until you spot Wanda among the debris. Iron Man's missiles have turned the area into a deadly maze of flying rocks. From her fingertips, streams of red magic swirl, skillfully steering the massive boulders away from crushing both Hydra agents and civilians.

Wanda isn’t trying to escape—she’s helping fend them off. Seeing her save these lives, something inside you breaks. Lev has his rifle aimed at her, ready to pull the trigger while she's busy playing the hero. The possible outcomes flash through your mind: Wanda dead or imprisoned by the Avengers. The thought is unbearable. You've spent months pretending you didn't care, but now, faced with the reality of losing her, you realize all you want is for her to live, to be free—something you've long given up for yourself.

You're about to dissuade Lev, to argue her worth, her potential, anything to stall, when an explosion nearby startles Wanda. She turns, momentarily distracted, and Lev's finger tightens on the trigger, ready to end it all.

But you're faster.

He collapses with a shocked gasp, the life leaving his eyes as he hits the ground. The noise of his body falling draws Wanda’s attention. She turns just in time to see what you've done—for her. Her eyes, wide and questioning, boring into yours.

Why did you save me? They seem to ask you, those green orbs that have hunted you ever since you looked into them. There's no time for lengthy explanations—not that you have a solid one anyway. But with each passing second, the chance of escaping undetected by these so-called superheroes dwindles.

“You need to leave, now!” you yell at her, but she doesn't budge. Instead, she looks at you, really looks at you, for the first time with something other than disdain. It’s the same look she gave you the night the scepter awakened her powers. It’s a look that tells you that maybe she’s been pretending too, these past few months.

You’re about to sprint toward her, to drag her to safety if you have to, when a blur of motion sweeps her away. Pietro appears out of nowhere, whisking them both out of the base before the Avengers close in.

For a second, you're left standing there, surrounded by the wreckage and the friend you just betrayed and killed. There's no time to grieve, no time to second-guess leaving his body behind—it's pure instinct that forces you to move quickly. You head towards an exit known only to the most important figures of the organization, a piece of information you picked up from Laura. She wouldn’t have given it away if you weren’t frequently sleeping together, those personal liaisons caused by trying to forget Wanda.

It’s strange, in a way, how you both just ended up saving each other.

Several weeks after the Avengers demolish the Sokovian base, Wanda finds you at a small cabin you own on the outskirts of Novi Grad. The modest structure sits on a 2-acre plot near the woods—a spot you picked up when your stint in Sokovia stretched past thirteen months. You never really planned on settling here; you thought you’d be moved to another location and sell this land at a profit eventually. But life, it seems, had other plans.

You’re chopping wood beside the cabin when you feel her presence. Dropping the axe, you straighten up and spot her at the edge of the clearing. Your eyes quickly sweep her surroundings for any sign of Pietro, but it appears she has come alone.

“Why did you do it?” she asks once she's close enough. You take a few moments to take her in, hardly believing she's actually here, and touched by the thought that she sought you out. You've missed her presence, even though the last few months have only found you both inhabiting the same compound, breathing the same air but never speaking.

Sometimes, lying in bed at night, you wonder why you can’t shake Wanda from your thoughts. You’ve even entertained the idea that she might have hexed you, that her magic has somehow ensnared your mind and… maybe your heart. It seems like the only logical explanation, because since the day you met, Wanda has never really left your mind.

“I did what I thought was right,” you finally answer, tucking your hands inside your pockets, not knowing what else to do with them.

“He was your friend,” Wanda points out softly.

Your lips curl into a strained smile; of course, she’d know. She knows things about you that you'd never voice out loud. Wanda’s ability to read minds makes hiding anything impossible. Does she understand how deeply you care for her? She must. Wanda has always seen right through you, so why does she need to ask?

“Did you ever think about me after that night?” she asks out of nowhere. The night the Infinity Stone changed everything, when you were closer to her than you’d ever been before.

You're taken aback by her directness. This, too, she probably knows the answer to because you've thought of little else.

“Everyday,” you say.

That night, you invite her to your home, the first person ever to share the space you once believed would always be just yours. Your living room is snug, with a three-seater couch and a medium-sized TV mounted on the wall. There’s also a fireplace that lights up the space with an amber glow as you hand Wanda a cup of hot chocolate.

You and Wanda find yourselves chatting about lighter topics. She shares her favorite shows from childhood, and you're surprised to learn she’s a big fan of American sitcoms. You enjoyed them too when you were younger, but not to the extent that you'd watch entire seasons over and over like Wanda did. Your preference leaned more toward books, gobbling up Agatha Christie novels when you were younger.

While you're in the middle of sharing a particularly funny memory from one of those old sitcom episodes, Wanda suddenly leans in and kisses you. Though your first instinct is to dive back into the kiss, you pull back instead. The last time you were this close, things escalated quickly before they crashed and burned.

“Are you sure?” you ask, searching her eyes for an answer. Learning from past mistakes, you want to make sure it's what she really wants.

She nods, her eyes steady and invitingly dark. “I’m sure.”

You close the distance between you, kissing her to your heart’s content. Before long, clothes are discarded, and you move from the couch to the bed, leisurely exploring each other, discovering how to bring one another to new heights of pleasure.

As you lie next to her afterward, breathless and tangled in the sheets, you realize there’s no way to pretend anymore—you care too much to go back.

The quiet doesn’t last long.

Tony Stark’s experiment goes awry, giving rise to Ultron—a global threat with ambitions that soon become clear. It seeks to bring about what he perceives as peace, by any means necessary. And just when you thought you and Wanda might have found some peace, she tells you she’s joining Ultron.

“It’s too dangerous,” you tell her. The twins and a robot against the entire Avengers team? The numbers alone put the odds against them. “We can stay here, help the people around us, and actually make a real difference.”

She shakes her head, her jaw set. “You don’t get it,” she argues. “You never will. You’re not…”

Special. Go ahead, Wanda, say it. Say what you really think of me.

“...you don’t have powers. You don’t know what it’s like to be able to change things and then just stand by, powerless.”

You were bracing for it, but it hurts all the same.

“So what am I then, Wanda? Just a bystander? Someone not worth listening to because I don't have powers?”

“I’m saying I have to do this,” Wanda mutters solemnly. “I’m the only one who can do this.”

You can see in her eyes that she’s already made up her mind. You’re still racking up your brain for something that might make a difference but she speaks again.

“I’m doing this for Sokovia,” she says quietly. “For everyone who's suffered because of Stark.”

You say nothing. Her fierce loyalty is one of the things you adore about her.

Wanda steps closer, her hand reaching out to touch your face, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “I’ll come back,” she promises. “When this is over, I’ll come back to you.”

You nod, resigned to the reality that you must let her go. “I’ll be here,” you say, your voice thick with regret that you can’t do more to protect her, to make sure she’s safe. “Waiting for you, right here.”

Pietro Maximoff dies riddled with bullet wounds—over a dozen of them. You learn the details of his death through a tabloid, days after witnessing Novi Grad being torn from the ground.

A week later, Wanda comes back to you, just as she promised, but she’s not the same. The light in her eyes is gone, replaced by a ghostly void. It’s a look you know all too well, the same one you’ve seen staring back at you in the mirror for years.

A loss of purpose.

In the days that follow, you try to restore some normalcy, but nothing feels right. You cook meals she barely touches, sit beside her during long stretches of silence, and listen when she occasionally finds the strength to talk. It's tough, seeing her struggle, but you stay by her side, hoping things will begin to heal.

But they don’t.

Every day, you see it—the guilt, the pain, the loss. She tries to find reasons to keep going, but nothing seems to hold. And as much as you want to be the one to help her, to pull her out of this darkness, you know you're not enough. Not this time.

Wanda is adrift, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t anchor her to this life you’re trying to build. She’s lost her brother, her home, and whatever sense of justice she thought she could achieve by joining Ultron. And you—you’ve been running from your past for so long, and you’re simply tired of it.

You start thinking about what’s best for her, about what she needs to move on and find a new purpose. Deep down, you recognize that maybe the best way for her to truly heal is if you step aside.

Like Wanda, you don’t trust Stark. So, with the skills you’ve honed during your time with Hydra, you manage to find a way to contact Steve Rogers instead.

The conversation happens one afternoon, over a phone call. You tell him everything—your past with Hydra, the things you’ve done, and why you’re ready to turn yourself in. He listens without interrupting, letting you confess everything. You mention that Wanda's with you, and make it clear this isn't about trying to reclaim some lost sense of patriotism. You're doing it for her.

“You did the right thing by coming to me,” Steve says when you finish. “Wanda has so much potential. She deserves a chance to become who she’s meant to be.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice dropping to a whisper. You’ve known it all along, perhaps better than anyone. It’s why you’re doing this, even though it feels like tearing yourself apart.

Over the course of the conversation, you and Steve work out an agreement. You’ll serve a reduced sentence in exchange for all the intel you have on the remaining Hydra heads still out there. You’ll act as an informant, helping to bring them to an end, once and for all. And maybe, after you’ve paid your dues, there’ll be a chance for you to live something close to a normal life. When the call ends, you're washed over with a feeling of real freedom, despite knowing it might cost you Wanda all over again.

Later that night, you find Wanda in the kitchen, stirring a pot and humming a tune you don't recognize, looking more alive than she has in weeks. Seeing her like this is bittersweet; she’s here, but soon, you might not be.

She notices you and gives a small, relieved smile. “You’re back,” she says.

“Yeah, I had a craving for this specific brand of red wine…” You say, tossing out a casual lie since you did swing by the grocery store, and errands are a regular part of your routine.

“Red wine?” Wanda perks up. “Perfect, I’m just about done with dinner. It should pair nicely.”

The kitchen smells foreign but amazing, and you can't help but compliment her. “It smells incredible in here,” you say as you start setting the table.

Wanda smiles softly as she turns down the stove and grabs a bowl to serve. You set out two wine glasses and place them on the table.

You pour a generous amount of red wine into each glass and watch as Wanda carries the meal over.

“Thanks for dinner,” you say with genuine appreciation.

“Try it and tell me what you think,” she urges, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she watches you with anticipation.

You take a bite, the flavors unique and perfectly blended. Looking up, you see her watching you, eager for your reaction.

“Well?” she asks impatiently.

You laugh, then wipe the corners of your mouth with your thumb. “Don't you already know?” you tease, hinting at her telepathic abilities.

Wanda pretends to be offended, crossing her arms. “I haven’t read your mind in a long time.”

You can’t help but be a little skeptical of her claim. “Since when?”

Wanda blinks, her gaze veering away as she hesitates, clearly not eager to revisit the memory.

You give her a gentle nudge, mimicking her earlier prodding “Well?”

Wanda turns to face you, her bottom lip pushed out slightly in a pout. “Since I saw you were sleeping with the director’s daughter.”

Saw? Did she see everything I did with Laura? The thought that Wanda witnessed it all like a scene playing out in front of her makes your stomach twist. You blush, mortified. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you mumble, looking away.

Wanda shakes her head, trying to dispel her lingering jealousy. “I shouldn't have been peering into your head that much to begin with,” she says softly.

Your ears catch on a particular phrase. “‘That much’?”

It’s Wanda’s turn to blush, her cheeks flushing deeper as she quickly downs the rest of her wine and then holds out her glass for a refill. Deciding to show some mercy, you pour her another glass without prying further. The conversation stalls into an awkward silence until you finally decide to break it by giving your verdict on the dinner.

“By the way, this is delicious,” you say, adding another serving to your plate.

Wanda's face lights up, her smile stretching so wide that she looks almost like a giddy child. But then, she is young. You can’t help but imagine how she'll fit in with them. Steve, in particular, seems like he’d be good for her. Even though you don't know him well, that one phone call was enough to get a sense of his character and leadership. He seems like the kind of guy who'd really look out for Wanda, in ways you can't.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” Wanda suddenly asks.

Your smile falls a little, but you manage to keep it there. You wish she could read your mind now, that she could understand the choices you’ve made today better than you could ever explain them. You’re not abandoning her—you’re setting her free from this life. You've done too many unspeakable things to ever truly deserve a quiet life with her. Eventually, your past will catch up to you, and the opportunity for Wanda to do something good might slip away if she’s still tied to you. You wish she could see how much you care for her, how much she’s changed you. Because of her, you’ve felt the desire to be good again, to be human again. To open yourself not just to grief, but also to love.

You wish—

“Maybe we can visit that lake you mentioned? I've spent my whole life in Sokovia but never really left Novi Grad,” Wanda suggests.

“Rain check?” you say, trying your best to sound like tomorrow isn’t goodbye. Steve wanted to move quickly, and you’ll be expecting him and a small squad tomorrow, no later than noon. “I’m thinking I might just stay in, catch up on some reading.”

Wanda cocks her head, a puzzled look on her face. You’ve been the one pushing her to get out of the cabin more, so your answer isn’t what she’s expecting. But she likes the idea. She just wants to spend time with you. The hole Pietro left in her heart is only bearable when she’s with you.

“Okay,” she mumbles, starting to clear the dishes. You place a hand over hers, silently telling her you’ll take care of it later. Leaning in, you plant a soft kiss on her lips.

“You want to go to bed early?” you whisper quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She looks up at you, a playful gasp escaping her lips.

“Just to sleep,” you add quickly. I just want to hold you all night, one last time.

“I might not be sleepy right off the bat, maybe if you tire me out—”

“Naughty,” you chuckle softly, giving her nose a gentle tap.

“You love it.”

“I—” Love you. You want to say it, but you don’t want to make it harder for you both when the time comes.

Without another word, you grab her hand, holding on to this moment, to her, for as long as you can.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff #gender neutral reader #hydra #avengers age of ultron #Steve Rogers

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cinnudelx · 28 days

Note

Okay imagine this catws Steve Rogers x hydra agent reader where he kept her as hostage to answer questions, and Steve being kinda dummy doesn’t know reader cutting her rope with a pocket knife as she know jumps on him sitting near his dick as it hardens and the rest is up to you

thank you for your request!! i hope you enjoy <33

Hostage 🎀

pairing: tws!steve rogers x hydra agent!reader

summary: steve needs to know what HYDRA is hiding. luckily you fell right into his lap (literally) and he kept you as hostage for an interrogation, determined to get answers but you had something else in mind.

warnings: smut smut smut!! mentions of reader being tied up, explicit language, clothed grinding, degrading names such as slut, dirty, but also some praise, spanking, tit!obsessed steve, steve talking you through it, riding, doggy style. MINORS DNI!

w.c: 1.8k

a.n: i had sm fun writing this. something about catws does things to meee

with a groan, your eyes slowly blinked open, taking in your surroundings. there you were, bound to a chair, arms tied behind you in a dimly lit room, steve rogers shield propped up against the wall in front of you. it was hard to make out exactly where you were but all you knew was that you were still on that damn ship, caught during one of your missions with HYDRA.

the door suddenly opened, revealing none other than steve himself, taking his helmet off. “good. you’re finally awake.” he grumbled, shutting the door and walking up to you.

steve stopped a couple steps in front of you after tossing his helmet to the floor, staring you down as he noticed so many thoughts running through your head that you’re not even phased by him.

“what were you and your team doing here?” steve asks firmly, titling your chair back to look into your eyes.

you clenched your jaw as your eyes glared into his, clearly displaying the fact you’re stubborn and will never release information just like that.

he smirked coldly, tilting your chair back even more. “you gotta start talking before i do something i’m not supposed to, agent. you know i can’t let you go til you say somethin’.”

you stared back at him, feeling your pocketknife strapped inside your sleeve. it was laughable, honestly, how easy this situation was to get out of. you subtly reached your hand into your sleeve. “cap, if you really think i’ve got loose lips, you’ve got another thing coming.” you grinned, challenging him, successfully catching your knife behind your back.

steve nodded, clenching his jaw. “okay.” he nodded again, reaching back and grabbing his shield. you couldn’t help but think how hot he looked frustrated. it was so wrong, but you wanted to see more.

he suddenly pressed the edge of his shield to the front of your neck, one hand on the shield and the other on the back of your chair as he intimidatingly searched your eyes, “start talking, agent. i haven’t got all day.”

little did he know, you were already cutting yourself free, so subtly he couldn’t see or hear a thing. “well, if you must know, we’re not really fond of you guys. you and your little group. what do you call yourselves again? the… um…” you pretended to think of the name, trying to waste as much seconds as possible.

steve pressed his shield harder against your neck, a vein popping out on his forearm. “agent, m’not fucking around. what are you and your team looking for.” he gritted out, his eyes darkening.

you winced slightly. yep, that definitely drew blood. “okay, okay. i’ll tell you. just—“

you let out a coughing breath as he pulled away his shield slightly. finally you were going to talk, he thought.

or were you.

the moment you freed yourself, you smirked, pushing away his shield forcefully as it fell to the floor. steve’s eyes widened as you lunged at him, straddling him on the floor as he fell. he struggled under your strong grasp as you held him down, tilting your head. “you know, you really need to work on interrogation. you didn’t even pat me down or anything while i was knocked out.” you smirked.

he clenched his jaw, realising his mistake. he was new to this interrogation thing. matter of fact, it was his first.

steve gripped your hips, trying to pull you away but you grabbed his wrists, pinning them to his sides and shifting your position on him swiftly, causing your core to brush off his clothed cock.

what came next made you and steve’s eyes widen. he let out a moan.

you looked down, a smirk growing back on your lips as you noticed his rock hard bulge. he struggled harder under your hold but you knew he wasn’t using his full strength. he could easily throw you across the room if he wanted to but something deep down wanted you to stay on top of him.

another fact was that you could feel your panties start to soak through. it was his fault. his stupid fucking moan and that goddamn hard on.

you didn’t know what to do but steve beat you to it, his hands reaching for your hips to pull you off but you grabbed his hands that were placed on your hips, grinding your core against his hard on once more to test the waters, your eyes searching his.

and there it was, another moan. god he was so sensitive.

“wh-what are you doing…?” he strained, his jaw clenched and his grip on your hips tightening.

“what are you doing?” you breathed out, the both of you secretly liking this.

he hissed, looking down at the place where your bodies met. “shit…” he breathed out, mostly to himself.

you gave him another roll of your hips, your lips parting slightly. “steve…” you gave him a look of uncertainty, moaning out his name quietly.

his mind was numb, couldn’t think of anything else but the fact your grinding against his clothed hard cock. “fuck- ngh-“ he growled, gripping your hips harder. “god… w-we shouldn’t do this.”

“yeah, i-i know..” you moaned softly, continuing your movements nonetheless.

“fuck it.” he grunted as he pushed you down to his thighs slightly before zipping his cock out of his suit, “you started this. now take off those fucking pants and ride me.”

your heart almost leapt out of your goddamn throat. holy fucking shit.

you couldn’t even think straight, your hands already fiddling with your pants as he started stroking his cock, watching you throw your pants to the floor. you almost let out a moan at the sight of him. he was propped up on one elbow, the other hand pumping his cock. as your pussy hovered over him, you pulled your panties to the side, your breathing becoming more laboured.

“open.” he reached up, the pads of his fingers against your plump lips. without thinking, you parted your lips, allowing his fingers to enter your mouth. you moaned as your tongue swirled around his digits, getting them nice and wet. “good girl.” he praised with a groan before taking his fingers out and stuffing them inside your pussy, causing you to double over him.

“s-steve-“

“shhhh… you wanted this. i don’t wanna hear it.” he hushed you, finger fucking you slowly before taking his fingers out and coating your pussy juices on his cock, stroking himself before gripping the base of his length. “cmon, ride my cock. show me how much you wanted this.”

you didn’t even need to be asked twice, already finding yourself sinking down on his cock. the both of you let out a soft gasp and moan at the sensation. he spilt you open with his thick girth, bottoming out immediately thanks to how soaked you are.

he propped himself up on both his elbows, watching you sit on his cock. “dirty fucking girl. look at you.” he growled as you started to ride him, soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips. you were so confident going into this but once you actually had this thing going, you couldn’t help but enjoy the way he was degrading you. “show me those tits, baby. take em out.”

he groaned as you pulled your shirt up, your bra-less tits spilling out as your shirt remained rolled up above your breasts. you started rocking your hips, picking up the pace.

“s-steve, mmmh, y-you- mmm…”

“what? drunk on my cock already? cmon. use your words like a big girl.” he grunted out, watching his cock disappear into your tight cunt.

fuck.

“y-your so big-“ you moaned out, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. “shit…”

he hummed darkly with a deep groan. “yeah, bet you fucking like that, don’t you? such a good, filthy girl.“

your pussy fluttered at his degradation, tightening around him as you quickened your pace, bouncing on his cock. “oh my god.” you moaned uncontrollably, throwing your head back, already feeling the pressure build up.

he sat up fully, taking one of your tits into his mouth as he grabbed your ass, giving it a firm spank.

“oh, fuck! steve!” you moaned out, bouncing on his cock faster.

he growled, guiding your hips up and down on his painfully hard cock. “so dirty. look at that. soaking my cock when i call you filthy things and slap that ass, huh? you like that?” he slapped your ass again before gripping it firmly with a moan as he felt himself approaching the edge.

“god, yes. oh fuck, p-please.” you whined out a moan, his lips enveloping your tit again, his hand on your other one kneading it and pinching your nipple.

“no respect for yourself, huh? you’re caught here with me and all you can think of is this cock. fucking slut.” he grunted, pulling you off his lap and positioning you on all fours.

he pushed your upper back down as you perked up your ass. gripping your ass firmly with one hand as the other slipped his cock back into your dripping pussy, he landed another smack against your ass.

“mmh, fuck! yes!” you groaned out, moaning uncontrollably as he slammed his hips into you at a bruising pace, making you see stars. “steve, don’t stop. i’m gonna fucking cum.” you panted out, arching your back.

“hold it.” he demanded, gripping your hips tighter as he slammed into you. the sound of your moans, his grunts, skin slapping against skin and squelches filling the room.

“i-i can’t. fuck, it’s too much.” you cried out, moaning almost pornographically before he snaked a hand around your thigh and pressed his fingers against your clit, rubbing it in circular motions.

“be good for me and hold it. i know you can. cmon.” he grunted, gritting his teeth as he pounded into you, nearing his release.

after a few more moments, he pulled away from your clit, gripping your ass tightly and landing a loud smack before starting to slam into you at an animalistic pace.

your eyes widened, your moans growing louder as your ass stung, your climax nearing soon.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” he gritted his teeth, his grip on your ass becoming painfully tight, “cum for me, baby. now.”

with that, your thighs immediately trembled as you came around him with a loud, shaky moan of his name. your pussy clenched and fluttered around him, causing him groan loudly, pulling out and pumping his cock ferociously over your ass, painting your skin with his thick ropes of seemingly endless cum.

“fuck…” he panted, taking off one of his gloves and using it to wipe his cum off your back. he tucked himself back into his pants, standing up with satisfied sigh as he zipped himself up.

you sat up against the wall, panting as you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed. he crouched down, tilting his head with a smirk, knowing that he’s finally got you all fucked-out and vulnerable.

“now. let’s try this again.” he leaned forward, his hand bunching your hair into his fist. “what is HYDRA doing here.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #fanfic #marvel #steve rogers smut #steve x you #steve rogers x you #smut #chris evans smut #chris evans #tws #winter soldier #incorrect mcu quotes #cinnudelx

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buckys-metal-arm · 5 months

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Bucky and Touch Headcanons

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: Just some Headcanons about Bucky and learning to trust human contact again

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, Bucky’s trauma, abuse at the hands of HYDRA, insecurities, self conscious Bucky, pet names, no y/n used, no pronouns used beyond "you"

A/N: if you haven't noticed I definitely have a type when it comes to fic and that fic is hurt/comfort with Bucky. I kinda feel like everything I've written is like the same thing in different fonts, but oh well 😅 anyways, Bucky re-learning that hands on his body doesn’t inherently mean pain and becoming super cuddly and touchy with someone he loves is my SHIT inject that into my VEINS man

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

It takes Bucky a really long time to get accustomed to human contact again, after you two got together it took him a while to even do something so innocent as hold your hand.

It’s not that Bucky hates it

He loves being close to you, he wants it so badly

And he’s touch-starved

He’s so touch-starved

But he went so long without positive human contact, and now that he’s free he wanted it so badly he could feel his chest aching for it

But it made him so nervous to want to try

After one night where you mindlessly reached up to casually touch his face and he flinched away hard, after all open hand coming towards his face had meant pain for so long, you two had a long conversation about his comfort levels

You two took things slow initially

You would sit on the couch together, watching a movie and talking with your fingers intertwined, your thumb stroking his knuckles.

Sometimes you’ll fall asleep on his shoulder, something he’s slowly started to accept

At the very least he’s stopped freezing when he feels your head droop to his arm

But now that he’s grown used to it and learned to love it? He wants to be touching you all the time

Bucky almost always has his arm around you, or a hand on your back, holding your hand, etc.

He would never admit it to anyone but you, but he’s SUCH a little spoon.

Bucky loves when you hold him, resting his head on your chest while you rub his back brings him a level of calm that he’s never felt before

Or when you hold him from behind and he curls into your body

You slip your hand under his shirt and run your hands along his tummy, gently stroking your fingers along his skin

You know he’s a lot larger than you, being a wall of muscle that has at least a head of height on you

But seeing him sleeping peacefully, wrapped in your arms with a little smile on his face he looks so small

He loves when you play with his hair.

It took him a long time to be okay with it (too many memories of handlers grabbing and/or dragging him by the hair), but now?

If he had it his way your hands would never leave it

Whenever you two are holding each other your hands always seem to find their way to his dark locks, brushing them out of his eyes or carding your fingers through it

You learned that the quickest way to get him to fall asleep is to stroke his hair, and put him to sleep like that every night

When it was long, Bucky loved when you combed it for him after a shower, or braided and unbraided it while he laid in your lap during a movie

Now that it’s cut short (thanks to you, he didn’t trust anyone else to do it) you’re pretty much always playing with it in some way

As much as you loved his long hair, his shorter cut is nice because it’s a bit more manageable and still just as soft

Bucky loves when you massage his scalp, feeling your nails gently scratching against his head makes him melt every time

He also loves when you bathe him or bathe with him

Bucky had a lot of anxiety around being naked in front of you, too many bad memories of being stripped and hosed down after missions or beaten within an inch of his life

But with lots of time and comfort and assurances he eventually opened up and got more comfortable

Long baths with you are his favorite thing.

Whether you get in with him or not, he loves how gentle you are with washing his body, massaging sore muscles and peppering his chest and back with little kisses

He especially loves when you wash his hair (I know, shocking).

Usually when you’re done washing him you’ll guide his head to lay in your lap while you stroke his hair.

When it’s time for him to get out you usually have to wake him up, it makes you smile

Peace looks so good on him, you just want to let him bask in it forever

And oh GOD he loves skin-on-skin contact so much

It took so long for Bucky to learn that he was allowed to want things

When he first started opening up with touch, he would wait until the aching in his chest got unbearable before asking if you would do some skin-on-skin with him

You never wanted to push him, but you tried to teach him that he was allowed to ask for things he didn't need immediately.

He didn't have to wait until he absolutely needed something to ask for it.

He was allowed to just want things.

Once he finally gets used to asking for things he wants skin-on-skin all the time.

Most every night you end up cuddled up in bed, sans clothing, Bucky pretty much on top of you, his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

He'll press little kisses to your chest, making you smile when his stubble tickles against your skin

“I love you,” he whispers into your neck, “how did I get so lucky, hm?”

You smile softly and kiss his forehead

“Believe me Buck, I'm the lucky one.”

#bucky barnes #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #hurt/comfort

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buckys-wintersoldier · 9 months

Text

I only want you | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader

Summary -> During the party he confesses his feelings for you, he kisses you but the next day he isn’t the same anymore. Your best friend is the biggest idiot you have ever seen and you don’t know why.

Warnings -> Bucky being an idiot, mention of Bucky’s past/trauma, Sharon being a bitch, hurt/comfort, angst, crying, kind of insults, fluff

Wordcount -> 7.1k (it’s long but it’s worth it, I guess)

A/N: I want to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for listening when I came up with that idea as well as supporting me to find the way through all the ideas, and thank you so much for proofreading it, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry when I hurt someone, trust me I cried a lot while I wrote that oneshot but I just needed to write something to calm down my feelings and yeah here we are. I hope you all enjoy it.

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky isn’t really a drinker, especially not since he became the Winter Soldier. He enjoys the taste, but the serum that is constantly running through his veins makes it impossible for him to experience the effects of the alcohol. It isn’t rare that he wishes to get drunk so he can forget all the memories of the things she did during the time with Hydra. It’s like Thor knew exactly about his thoughts because he is waving a flask of Asgardian Ale in front of Bucky, and the brown-haired man decides it is the perfect opportunity to drink his troubles away.

“Buck, you shouldn’t drink too much of that Asgardian Ale,” you mumble while you sit next to your best friend and look at him. You know about his trouble and about his traumatic past, but you also know it’s never an opportunity to drink it away. He has the glass completely full again and smiles at you.

“It’s oke; I can’t get too drunk. I’m the Wiener Soldier,” he says and bursts out laughing. Then he lifts his glass and turns around. "Cheers!" he shouts through the room, even when it’s almost impossible that someone hears it.

The music is way too loud to hear your own words without shouting. So it isn’t surprising when the people in the room don’t hear what Bucky shouts. Except for the two next to him, you and Steve.

“Cheers, pal!" Steve shouts and lifts his glass as well. He smiles at Bucky before he pours the liquid down his throat. You shake your head and turn around. Your back leans against the counter, and you place your forearms on top of the counter, looking at the people dancing in the middle of the room.

“Haven’t felt like that since the 40’s,” Bucky groans, filling his glass again. Then he turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. “I feel like I’m 20 again; it feels better than I thought. Do you always feel like that?” he asks and places his hand on your shoulder, standing up slowly to stand in front of you.

Then he winks at you while he almost falls to the side. You almost burst out laughing when he tries to grab something to not fall.

“Woah, the room is spinning. I didn’t know Tony was able to build something like that,” your best friend says while holding your shoulders so he won’t fall down.

You look at him and grip his arms to lead him to the seat next to you again, but he doesn’t want to move. You giggle when he leans closer, and the stubble from his beard tickles you. Bucky kisses your cheek softly.

“My lady, wanna dance with me?” he asks and looks at you with the most adorable puppy look.

His blue eyes are almost begging you to dance with him, and even when you would prefer to bring him into his room and make sure he goes to sleep, you can’t say no.

With a nod, you stand up as well, and he wraps his arms immediately around your waist. He doesn’t walk far away from the counter, just a few steps, so the two of you can dance without crashing against something. Bucky spins you around while he holds you still, pressed against him.

You wonder how it must feel for him when the room is already spinning, but the way he smiles and looks at you makes your mind dizzy, and you can’t think of anything other than him. You lay your head against his shoulder, and the heat of his body warms you. His hands are around your waist, making you almost melt in his embrace, and you could stay like that for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes and Bucky almost lying on the ground and sleeping, you push him to the seats. Making sure he doesn’t miss the chair, when he sits, he immediately looks for his glass.

“Where is it? I’m thirsty," he says, looking at you with a slightly sad gaze.

You feel a bit sorry for him, but you reach for another glass, this time with water. Bucky looks at it skeptically, but then he pours it down his throat. Shaking his head like it’s something awful he doesn’t like. You chuckle, and it makes him look at you.

“Have you ever tried that? That’s awful,” he tells you and offers you the glass even when it’s empty.

“It’s not that bad,” you reply, and you take the glass to place it on the counter next to you.

“We should bring you into your room, you should sleep a bit,” you say, taking his hands into yours.

Before you can pull him up, and with you out of the room, he pulls you closer, and his lips are just a few inches away from yours. He is so close that you can feel his breath against your lips; it's warm and smells strongly of the ale he has consumed. You need to close your eyes for a moment. The man in front of you is making you go crazy.

“I don’t want to go to bed, not yet. I want to kiss you first, can I?” he asks you, and you immediately feel like he is Bucky from the 40’s again. And even when you don’t agree to drink his troubles away, you’re happy that he doesn’t have to suffer with his past right now. And let’s be honest, the 40’s Bucky is a gentleman, and you always wanted to know him; now you have the chance, at least for tonight.

“Doll?” Bucky asks, and you feel a shiver along your spine because of his soft voice.

You look into his eyes and smile softly.

“Of course,” you answer, not sure anymore about the question he asked.

He leans closer and kisses you softly. Bucky’s pink, plumb lips are so soft on yours, you never imagined them being that soft. You slide your hands through his hair, playing with his light curls. His lips move slowly against yours, while he lets you feel everything you tried to avoid when you’re around him. The feeling in your stomach whenever he touches you, the way he looks at you, or talks to you. You adore the way he tells you ‘Doll’ and you enjoy every moment you can spend with your best friend.

And that’s the point where you thought he would never feel the same for you. He is your best friend, and he was always a gentleman, so you were sure he was just nice. And now he is kissing you, with his hands at your waist, holding you close. Bucky is drunk, so you aren’t sure if it’s just a situation of his drunken state, but they always say: drunk people tell the truth, so he would feel the same for you as you feel for him.

When the two of you move a few inches away from each other, you still look into his eyes. His gaze looks a bit foggy, but you can also see the storm in his blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know. You don’t know what you do to me whenever you look at me or just touch me softly. My feelings go crazy, and whenever another man walks close to you, I want to push them away and tell them you’re mine. I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you,” Bucky says, and he smiles softly, his cheeks turning slightly red. “I have loved you for so long, but I thought you would never love me the same way. I was the Winter Soldier, and I don’t think I deserve someone brave, strong, wonderful, and perfect like you,” he adds, leaning his forehead against yours, wanting you to be as close as possible and feel your warmth.

You smile and press your lips against his again. The tingling feeling in your stomach grows again, and when he stands up, he towers over you, placing his hands around your cheeks, and he pulls you closer.

“I love you so much, my doll,” he whispers and slowly lets go of you, his hands gripping your waist again.

“I love you too, Buck. And you deserve everything good; it wasn’t you when you were the Winter Soldier. You’re a gentleman and the most precious one; I love the way you care about everyone you love,” you tell him, and he blushes.

Bucky lifts one of his hands and presses two of his fingers onto your lips, trying to make you shut up before you can compliment him more.

“You need more than two fingers to make me shut up,” you giggle, and his smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips on yours. He makes you speechless with the way his soft and warm lips move against yours.

“You two are almost disgusting,” Steve mumbles next to you, making you chuckle.

When you and Bucky break the kiss, you look at Steve. He still looks at you and blushes when he recognizes that you caught him looking at you and Bucky.

“You think it’s almost disgusting, but you can’t stop looking at us, huh?” you ask, and he immediately turns his head away while his cheeks get deeply red.

When you turn your head back to look at Bucky, you feel a burning look in your back. Without looking around, you already know the person who is staring at you with the same angry gaze; she always looks at you. Bucky recognizes your thoughtful look and looks up to see the person behind you. His hand clenches around your waist, and you hiss softly.

“Sorry, doll,” he mumbles, immediately losing his grip around your waist.

“Tony is staring at mine,” he growls, and you look around. You see Tony standing on the other side of the room and looking in your direction. He looks annoyed, and when you look a few inches further to the side, you see the person who is burning a hole in your back. Bucky thinks it’s Tony who is looking at you, but you know he is just listening to the person next to him. She is the one who hates you for being Bucky’s best friend, and now she will hate you more because Bucky kissed you. Sharon has had a crush on Bucky since you met her the first time, and he sometimes looks flirty around her, but he is always like that around friends. Otherwise, he would date Tony, Thor, or Steve as well.

The next morning, you wake up to the sun slowly brightening your room. You open your eyes and smile when the flashbacks of the last night come back into your mind. You and Bucky shared a lot more kisses, soft touches, and dances during the night.

You sit up slowly, stretching your limbs, and look at the clock. It’s just a bit after ten in the morning. After a few more minutes where you just look out of the window and enjoy the sun and the comfortable silence in your room, you stand up and walk through your bathroom.

With a few movements, you get out of your clothes and walk into the shower. The hot water runs along your body, and you feel your muscles relaxing under the warmth. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment just for you. In front of your eyes, you see Bucky kissing you the way he did last night. Your fingers are brushing softly over your lips, and for a moment, you feel like he is kissing you again. His hands are around your waist, and his body is pressing against yours.

But when you open your eyes, you just hear the sound of the water and your towel in front of you. No Bucky, right now. Just the thoughts making you smile again and the feeling in your stomach are the most wonderful you have ever felt until now. You are already excited to see him in a few minutes, but first you need to finish your shower and choose some comfortable clothes to wear.

With the biggest smile on your lips, you walk through the floor and into the shared kitchen.

“Someone looks really happy today,” Tony says, and you blush immediately.

Your eyes scan the room, so you can find Bucky and go to him. Talk to him about the last night and make sure you meant what you said. When you walk a few steps further into your room, you see Steve lying on the couch, holding his hand and groaning.

“I don’t know what happened last night. Tony, how can you manage to never have a headache?” he asks, and Tony laughs before he places his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"Painkillers are really useful. It doesn't help to remember, but they help against the other effects after being drunk,” he says, and Steve nods. He doesn’t want to get up, so he just closes his eyes and tries to sleep a while longer.

You look around and see Bucky in front of the counter. Sharon stands next to him, and her hand rubs his back up and down. You roll your eyes, disgusted about the other girl, as you walk to them.

“Hey, Buck,” you say with a smile, and when the brown-haired man turns around, he smiles softly.

But in another way, as usual, he looks a bit sad, and instead of looking at you, he looks to the side.

“Hey,” he mumbles and takes his bowl with cereal.

Then he walks to the table, and Sharon follows him. You look at them both; maybe he has a hangover? You try to push the negative thoughts away and make yourself a bowl with your favorite cereals. You walk around the table and sit down in front of Bucky; he doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t talk to you. He was just focused on his cereals and probably deep in his own thoughts.

“Buck?” You ask carefully, and he hums but still doesn’t look up from his bowl. “Can we talk? I mean just you and me?”

He nods in response and finishes his breakfast, then finally looks up to see you. But something is still different when he just loves to look into your eyes and adore the colors, but this time he looks at you like you’re someone else.

He waits until you finish your breakfast as well, and then he follows you through your room. Your best friend closes the door behind himself and looks at you.

“What’s up?” He asks with a cold voice, and you shiver immediately.

“Do you remember last night?” you ask, playing with your hands. You don’t want to look at him; you’re scared about the way he looks at you.

“No, but Sharon told me about it,” he tells you, and you nod softly.

For a moment, the two of you are quiet. You don’t know what to say, but the silence is uncomfortable as well. You shift from one foot to the other, your hands sweating, and you feel like you need to throw up.

“Why are you so cold?” you then ask and look at Bucky.

He clenches his jaw with his eyes staring at you, and the way he looks at you makes you even more uncomfortable. He never looked at you like that; the coldness almost showed hate in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tears burning in your eyes. He notices the tears in your eyes, and a sarcastic grin forms on his lips.

“Why are you crying now?” Bucky asks you loudly; you hiss and feel so small in front of him.

“You- Buck, yo-” You start to say something, but he interrupts you.

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’. You have no right to say that. You don’t deserve to say that,” he shouts, and your eyes widen.

“What do you want me to call you then?” you ask, trying to wipe the tears in your eyes away.

“Use my name. I have it for a reason,” he says, and you nod, not able to say anything.

You don’t know what happened to him. Last night he confessed his love to you, and now he acts like he hates you and has never even thought about loving you.

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do,” he says, rolling his eyes annoyed.

You feel a tear slowly falling down your cheek, not knowing the man in front of you anymore. He isn’t like your best friend; he isn’t like the one you fall in love with; he isn’t the one who kissed you yesterday; and he isn’t the Bucky, you know.

You shake your head. You want to talk; you really want to, but you can’t. At least not with the man in front of you. Was it all a lie? Was it all just fake? Or what happened that he is the way he is right now.

“Good,” he says, and he turns around to leave the room.

The moment he closes the door behind himself, you break down on the floor. You fall on your knees, the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you’re sobbing loudly. There is no feeling inside of you right now; you feel empty. You stare at the wall in front of you, his face in your mind, his smell, and the way he kissed you last night. You hear his words, like he is standing next to you and saying them to you. The ones of the night when he confesses his love to you and the ones he said a few minutes ago when he was looking at you with his cold, blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know.”

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’.”

“I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you.”

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do.”

It takes a while until you slowly calm down. You're curled on the floor, and the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. But your sobbing is quieter, and you slowly fall asleep on the floor. All the tears and the crying make you so sleepy that you don’t recognize Steve walking into your room and lifting you up to place you in your bed.

He sits next to you, his fingers stroking your hair softly out of your face, and he looks at you with a soft but sad smile. He saw Bucky walking out of the room, his gaze as cold as the whole morning, and even when he doesn’t know what happened at the party, he doesn’t want to leave you alone. But he also doesn’t want to interrupt you while you’re crying because he knows you would have to hide it, and he knows you need to let the feelings out of your body.

You don’t sleep well; nightmares interrupt your sleep every time, but you’re too tired to stay awake for a while. In every dream is Bucky; first he helps you, but in the next moment he shouts at you, laughs at you, and does everything you never thought he would do to you. You’re sweating and whimpering in your sleep, turning from one side to the other.

Steve tries to comfort you with his hand on your thigh, but it doesn’t work. With widened eyes, you wake up, starting to cry again for a few minutes before you fall asleep again. You don’t mind if someone sees you crying or not; you can’t escape Bucky, his coldness, not even in your dreams, and it robs you of all of the strength you have.

“Y/N?” Steve asks when you’re awake, but you turn around so you don’t have to face him.

You mumble a soft ‘mhm’. Steve sighs, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, but you shake your head.

You just want to be alone right now. Steve nods and stands up, walking through the door, but before he leaves the room, he turns to you.

“If you need me, you can call me or just come to my room,” he offers.

“Thank you,” you whimper, and the tears are streaming down your face again.

You can’t stop thinking about Bucky; he is burned in your mind like something you need to be. Something you need to be happy, and yes, he is someone you need to be happy. Without him, it doesn’t feel the same; watching your favorite movie wouldn’t be as fun because there is someone missing who holds you when you cry out of joy because they are married. Playing board games wouldn’t be the same because the one freaking out because he doesn’t get what he wants isn't playing the board games with you. Eating your favorite snacks and ice cream wouldn’t be the same because the one man who always laughs about your snack and ice cream decisions wouldn’t laugh. The one cuddling up wouldn’t let you cuddle with him, and you would miss HIS warmth and HIS scent. It’s not just a man; it’s the ONE man; it’s Bucky.

Wrapped in your blanket, you sit against the headboard of your bed. Looking through the channels for something that could distract you. But you feel like Bucky is manipulating the television because every channel shows a movie you used to watch with Bucky.

Everything reminds you of him: every place, every movement. Every second reminds you of Bucky, the memories you both have, and the moments you shared. And now he treats you like you’re the worst thing he has ever seen, and there is no reason why he does it, right?

You don’t want to sit in your room, but you don’t want to see Bucky somewhere as well. But you feel hungry after some time, and even when you wish you didn’t have to stand up to get some food, you don’t want to make yourself feel worse just because of Bucky.

So you slowly get up; it’s already afternoon when you walk through your room. Before you reach the door, you see the pictures on your wall. He and you took so many pictures during trips or parties, some when he was joking and others when he tried to look mad. Even when he really looks like a pouting puppy, when he tries to look mad at you, you always laugh about his pouting face.

You open your door and immediately hear the voices of the others. But there are not a lot of them; just three of them are there and talk. Steve, Bucky, and Sharon. With quiet footsteps, you walk closer to the room. You look at the floor, hoping that no one will see you.

But when your feet meet the ground in the room, the gazes of the three of them are immediately on you. Steve smiles sadly when he sees you. You probably look like a wrack, with red eyes and tears all over your face, but you don’t mind. Sharon looks at you with a smile, and Bucky is as cold as before.

When you make your way to the counter, you hear Sharon flirting with Bucky, and you feel like you want to throw up. You hate her, especially since she is a jealous bitch when you’re with Bucky. And now he has him for himself - exactly the plan she had.

“Buck, look at me,” she says, and you look around to see what they do. That’s the moment you wish you wouldn’t be in the room right now. Sharon leans closer, and her lips meet Bucky’s softly. His arms are wrapped around her waist, and you see yourself in her. The moment you had last night, and now he kisses her, not the one he confessed his love to last night.

The tears forming in your eyes - they're burning. They slowly stream down your cheeks, but you don't make a noise; you just look at them until they break the kiss, and Sharon looks at you with a wide bitch smile again.

“You’re right!" you shout, and Bucky turns around to look at you as well.

With a confused gaze, the two men look at you, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“You don’t deserve me. You’re an idiot, and I would prefer to be killed by the Winter Soldier instead of being your best friend,” you shout, and you see the change in his gaze.

You don’t mean it, not really, but the anger inside of you lets you say things like that.

You see, you hurt him by saying that he has nightmares because of the Winter Soldier; he blames himself for that, and you were the one who was able to give him moments where he didn’t blame himself, but now that you mention the Winter Soldier in a way, you hurt him the most you can. And you’re sorry for that, but you hate him so much right now that you can’t stop yourself from telling him things like that.

“I feel like he would love more than you ever can,” you say, and you walk a few steps closer to him. “I hate you, in a way I never thought it would be possible,” you hiss and turn away to grab some food from the counter before you leave the room.

Bucky looks at you, and the moment those words leave your mouth, his small world breaks a bit more. The only person who loved him so much hates him now. But he deserves it, doesn’t he? And he can’t bring himself to walk to you and ask what he did because he is way too mad at you for a reason he doesn’t want to admit in front of you.

It's been a week now since you saw Sharon and Bucky kissing each other. The day he started to be an ass and the day you told him he didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t change your mind; he hasn't been nice to you since that day; he ignores you; he doesn’t even look at you. His arms are always around Sharon’s body, and his lips are on hers.

You don’t really care about yourself anymore; you’re mostly in your room, crying or just laying there and waiting until you finally fall asleep. Steve tries every day to get you out of bed and wants to plan your favorite trips, but every one of them reminds you of Bucky, and you prefer your warm and comforting bed.

Someone knocks at your door, and you hum in response before Steve opens the door.

“Want to eat something? I cooked, and you need to eat,” he says, but you shake your head and turn around so you don’t have to face him.

Steve sighs softly and walks closer to you. He sits next to you on your bed and runs his fingers along your side.

“Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Buck? He looks different as well since the party,” Steve says thoughtfully, and you slowly turn around to look at him.

Your eyes are red, and he can see the tears all over your cheeks. Steve lifts his hand and wipes the tears away, smiling softly at you. You slowly sit up, your back against the headboard of your bed, and you pull your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around them and placing your head on your knees.

“I thought-“ you sob quietly. “He said he loved me, and then he suddenly was with Sharon,” you mumble, and you can’t stop the tears again.

“He told you he loved you? When? I mean, I know it, but when did he tell you?” Steve asks, and your eyes widen for a moment.

He knows that Bucky loves you? What happened to Bucky being the way he is when he really loves you? Why is he kissing Sharon when he could have you? He could have the one he really loves.

“At the party, he told me he loved me. He kissed me,” you mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops.

“He finally managed it?” he asks, and you nod.

“And the next day he was the idiot he is, kissing Sharon, and it looks like they are happy together,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“I need to talk to him,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You look at him while he leaves your room. He almost runs out of it, and you don’t know why, but you don’t mind. Steve wants to talk to Bucky, but it won’t change his feelings for Sharon. And maybe Bucky thought it was her when the two of you kissed. Maybe he thought it was her when he confessed his feelings.

Meanwhile, Steve rushes into Bucky’s room. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the television. He doesn’t want to see Sharon today; he misses you, even when it’s just looking at you or hearing you talk. But since you’re in your room and only outside when you’re sure no one else is outside, he hasn’t heard or seen you in days.

“Buck?” Steve asks softly, and Bucky turns his head to look at the brown-haired man. He looks more broken than ever before. Steve walks closer to Bucky and lets himself fall next to his best friend in bed. “Where is Sharon?” he asks, and Bucky shrugs.

“Don’t care,” he says, and he stares in front of him again.

“Pal, what happened that you’re the way you are with y/n?” Steve looks at Bucky and sees the small tear escaping the corner of his eye.

"Nothing; she doesn’t want me,” he answers, and Steve chuckles softly. Stubborn idiot, but still his best friend and the idiot in love with you.

“She told me you confessed your love for her. And the two of you kissed. When she told me, I remembered, and it was her; it wasn’t Sharon, pal,” Steve continues, and Bucky’s eyes widen before he looks at his best friend again.

“We did what? And Sharon, what?” he asks.

“You kissed. You and y/n. But Sharon was just standing next to Tony on the other side of the room and was staring at the two of you,” he repeats, telling Bucky what he remembers. Bucky shakes his head, thinking about the version of the party and then the version he heard.

That’s definitely not what he heard about the evening. That’s not even similar to the things someone told him about.

“No, that’s not true,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “But even when, don't you know anymore what she said? She hates me, Steve." Bucky mumbles, and he feels even worse when he thinks about you, the way he treats you, and the things you said to him. Even when he understands it now, he understands why you said those things.

“I need to talk to her,” Bucky mumbles, but then he shakes his head. “Do you think she would listen?” he asks and looks at Steve, who nods.

“She is in love with you. Even when you’re such an idiot,” Steve tells him, pushing his best friend up. “Talk to her, pal,” he says, and Bucky smiles softly before he walks through the door.

He isn’t sure what to say when he talks to you. Maybe you don’t want to listen; maybe you won’t understand. Or do you really hate him now? Do you want to see him? So many thoughts run through his mind while he walks along the floor, unsure what to do or say when you ignore him or if he messed up after all the things with Sharon.

Bucky reaches your door and knocks softly. He hears your softy ‘come in’ and he opens the door. Now it’s too late to turn around; he has to talk to you now. You look at him, and your gaze gets. immediately cold.

“James,” you say, and he shivers slightly.

He didn’t know something inside of him could break more, but when you called him ‘James’ with that cold voice, something inside of him broke more.

“Doll,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that; call your new fucktoy that,” you hiss, and he looks at the floor.

You’re mad; he has never seen you like that before, but he can’t blame you. You’re hurt, and he is the reason for that. He hurts you so badly, but he loves you so much more than he can ever tell you. He can’t and doesn't want to be without you when there is just a percent chance for him to be yours. He would do everything to be yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He hates when you’re so harsh and cold, but he understands it.

“What do you want here?” you ask, and he plays with his hands before he answers.

“I want to talk to you,” Bucky says quietly, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James,” you say, and you see him wiping some tears away.

“Please,” he begs, but you shake your head. “Can you please listen to me? Please?” he tries again, and he doesn’t want to go without telling you everything he feels, everything about the way he acted, especially why he acted like that. “Doll, please listen to me. Just this time, if you want me to go, then I will, and I will never talk to you again if you don’t want me to,” he says and sobs quietly.

You haven’t seen Bucky crying; sometimes he looked like he was about to cry, but he never cried. And now he stands in front of you, begging and crying for you to listen to him. And you want to listen, but the anger inside of you gets in control of you.

“You could have talked to me earlier. I fucking- I don’t care anymore,” you shout, and he flinches.

The strong super soldier looks like a small boy.

“Please, I love-“

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear all those lies anymore. Just shut up and go with those lies to your new girl,” you say, anger in your voice, and Bucky can’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.

He hurt you more than he thought he did. But he was so mad at you; he was mad about the things he heard. And now he is about to lose the most important person in his life. He loves you more than everything; he never loved someone as much as he loves you.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. I love you,” he whispers, and you shake your head sarcastically, laughing.

“I saw that. You treated me like the worst person you know; that’s love for you?" you ask, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No, but I didn’t know about the things that happened during the party,” he says, and he walks a step closer, slowly, to make sure you’re oke with it.

You want to throw him out of your room, but you also want to know what happened and why he was the way he was. He wouldn’t beg and cry when it wasn't important to him. So you accept when he takes a seat at the edge of your bed and looks at you. His eyes are red, and you can see the traces of his tears on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, still blaming himself for doing all this to you. Bucky wants to touch you; he wants to hug you; and he wishes you would tell him it’s oke. But he knows he needs to explain his behavior before he can get some of that; when you’re ready to do it, then.

“What happened that night?”

He is interested in knowing what happened, and you clear your throat before you think about it again. When he turned into an idiot, you tried to avoid all his touches, his words, and his kisses so you didn’t need to cry all the time. And now he wants to know the truth, and you want to tell him, but you don’t want to cry because of that.

“Thor had some Asgardian alcohol there, and it made you drunk. We danced a bit; you told me you loved me; you kissed me,” you tell him, and he nods.

“You didn’t flirt with someone else?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No, why should I? I love you, and I was happy you felt the same, but then you acted completely different the next day,” you mumble and look at him.

Bucky is playing with his fingers; you see the way he suffers because of his metal arm, and you remember the things you said about the Winter Soldier, and he probably hates his metal arm even more now.

“Why did you do it the way you did, and why are you suddenly so nice again?” you ask, and his jaw clenches slightly. Not in an angry way, but more in a thoughtful clenching.

“The morning after the party, I had a bad hangover and didn’t remember much of that night. I know that I kissed someone, but I don’t know the person. Sharon came into the room, and she asked me how the party was, and I told her I didn't know because I had too much alcohol. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and when I asked her why she said I kissed her that night,” he tells you, and you nod, blaming yourself for being the same way to Bucky as he was to you, even though it’s not his fault.

“I told her I don’t love her because I love you. And she told me about your night with a guy I don’t know. Sharon said you were flirting with me, but you have someone else, and you were flirting with me so you can make jokes with your boy about me being so dumb and really think you could love me the way I love you,” he continues, and your jaw drops slightly.

“Bu- James, there is no one else. I love you, and when you changed into the idiot you were, I hated the thought of you touching Sharon and the way you kissed her. But when you love me, why did you kiss her?” you ask, and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair.

“I wanted a distraction,” he whispers quietly, ashamed of that.

For a moment, you both sit in silence, looking at each other. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"When you said those things about the Winter Soldier?” He asks, and you see his hands shaking softly. His anxiety gets worse when he thinks about your answer; maybe you could really mean it? Maybe you really think the Winter Soldier could love more than Bucky can?

“No, I was mad. I’m sorry, Buck,” you say, and he nods. You smile softly when he doesn’t tell you to stop calling him ‘Buck’. “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t see how much I would hurt you with that,” you add.

“I think I deserve it,” he replies, and you want to agree, but you also know it would make him feel worse.

He was an idiot, but now that he sits there, he begs and cries that you listen to him so he can excuse his behavior. He blames himself for so much; you don’t want him to blame himself for more.

“Buck?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Tell me the truth, please.”

You look into his eyes; the blue is as warm as the one you’re used to seeing when he is with you.

“I love you, doll. I never wanted to hurt you; I want to be yours. I want you to be mine,” he says, blushing slightly. You don’t know what to say. You want to tell him you feel the same, but at the same time, you’re scared he will go to Sharon when you’re not enough for him anymore. “I’m sorry, you had to listen. But thank you for listening,” he tells you and stands up to leave the room.

You reach for his metal arm, and he flinches when you touch it.

“Sorry,” you say, slightly shocked, and let go of his arm. Bucky turns around and smiles softly.

“Just didn’t think you would touch it.” His voice is so soft, exactly the way you love when he talks to you.

“Can you stay?” you ask and look down; maybe he would prefer to go to Sharon because you were really mean?

Bucky’s smile grows, and he lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his lap. His hands slide your back up and down, and he looks into your eyes like they are the most adorable things he has ever seen. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you play with his soft hair.

He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours, when you stop him.

“Did you brush your teeth and clean your face after she kissed you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, and Bucky can’t stop himself and bursts out laughing.

“Yes,” he whispers, and he places one of his hands on your neck to pull you closer. His lips touch yours softly, and you almost melt in his embrace. Bucky moves his lips against yours, and a small smile appears on his lips.

“I love you, James,” you mumble against his lips, and he rolls his eyes.

“Can you be serious for a moment, doll?” he asks, laughing, and you look like you need to think about it before you answer him.

“I don’t know what you mean, James,” you giggle.

“But I love you too, doll,” he chuckles, pressing his lips on yours again to make you shut up and feel you as close as possible in that moment. He feels complete and comfortable now, being with his girl, the one he loves more than everyone, the one who loved him even when he was the Winter Soldier.

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18250mm · 4 months

Text

She Kicks Ass | N. Romanoff

Gif not mine, credit to creator

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Super-Soldier!Reader

Word Count: 1,122

Warnings: None

Summary: You save Clint’s ass when Natasha gets angry at him, but not before reminding everyone just how good she is at kicking ass.

---

“Who the hell ate my sandwich?!” Natasha’s voice echoed through the Avengers Compound. She’d just come back from a tough morning at the gym and she was, without a doubt, ready for lunch.

When the redhead opened the refrigerator to grab the food you had so graciously prepared for her before heading off to fulfil your own duties at S.H.I.E.L.D., it was gone.

Pissed wasn’t even enough to describe how she felt right now.

“What are you yelling about, baby?” you asked, walking into the kitchen since you were on your lunch break too. “How was your training this morning?”

You and Natasha had been together for about two years now, having started dating a few months after you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. You had defected from HYDRA — although… to be fair, you never really agreed with their ideologies in the first place — after being born to parents in the organisation. With your expertise and skill sets matching that of a high-ranking agent, you worked closely with Maria and Natasha as the second Deputy Director.

You weren’t small either, making you useful for certain field missions. Since HYDRA loved to experiment on their troops, it came as no surprise when you were eventually chosen to test their latest version of the super-soldier serum. It wasn’t an exact replica of the one Steve Rogers had coursing through his veins, but hey — at least it didn’t kill you.

“It was good up till the point I found out that someone ate the sandwich you made for me,” Natasha replied with a pout before resuming her stoic expression. “And when I find out who it is–”

She didn’t even finish her sentence before storming off (not without giving you a quick peck on the lips, of course) — but you knew exactly what she was going to say. You weren’t the most religious, yet you found yourself saying a silent prayer for the culprit.

You chuckled, turning around to grab the same ingredients you had used to make the first sandwich. Whatever happened to the last one, you didn’t know; but you weren’t going to let that spoil your girlfriend’s mood for the rest of the day.

…

A good 10 minutes had passed since you last saw Natasha. You’d finished preparing and bagging the second sandwich, and was awaiting the redhead’s return before lunch was over.

You had also brewed a fresh pot of coffee, mostly for the two of you to enjoy, but in good nature, the rest of the team too.

“Y/N! Y/N, help me!” came an exasperated whisper from across the room.

Turning around in confusion, your furrowed brows quickly softened when you saw Clint running into the kitchen with… a sandwich in his mouth.

Natasha’s sandwich.

He had taken it. And your girlfriend was hot on his tail.

“You really should know better than to take Nat’s food, Hawkeye,” you told him, but stepped aside anyway for him to climb into the vent above you. “She isn’t the kind of target you’d wanna mess with. You know that.”

The blond rolled his eyes and nodded, mumbling quick apologies you couldn’t even make out. “Mmank hyou!” he said — and that was the last you saw of him as he disappeared somewhere into the inner spaces of the Avengers Compound.

“I don’t care if you’re my best friend, I wouldn’t even let my sister eat that sandwich! Y/N made it for me!” you heard your lover’s voice as she made her way towards you — she had definitely seen Clint turn the corner here — with Wanda, Yelena and Kate behind her.

By now, a small crowd had formed — with all the shouting and vent-climbing, how could it not? — around you two.

Natasha came to a halt and looked around. “Detka, where’s Clint?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “I haven’t seen him, I thought he was with Kate,” you met the tall brunette’s eyes, subtly motioning for her to go along with it.

At first, Kate didn’t catch on, shaking her head before glancing up and spotting her mentor directly above her as he watched the scene unfold while chewing on the sandwich. Her eyes widened and she went into a coughing fit — causing all eyes to turn to her for a brief moment.

“I’m fine, thank you,” the young archer assured everyone. “Uh, yeah. Clint was just with me, ‘Tasha. I think he went to the armoury to grab more trick arrows…”

“I could’ve sworn I saw him come in here with my food,” Natasha mumbled, sighing. You immediately wrapped your arms around her comfortingly. “I really wanted that sandwich.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you cooed, stepping aside to reveal her newly-replaced lunch and a cup of coffee. “I made you another one. Now, how ‘bout you eat before our break’s over?”

The way Natasha’s eyes lit up was the reason you wanted to do everything in life that would make her smile like that.

“Thank you,” she whispered, kissing you on the cheek as you tightened your grip on her.

“I’m just glad she won’t kick Barton’s ass today,” Tony laughed. “Though I’m sure with Rogers and Barnes around, that won’t be too easy for her.”

You merely scoffed at the billionaire’s statement. “My girlfriend can totally kick their asses! She can kick anyone’s ass. Hell, she can even kick my ass. And she has, many times. It was hot.”

Natasha watched you lovingly and casually sipped on her coffee as you rambled on. The other Avengers laughed, some shaking their heads while others looked away nervously because they saw no lie in what you said.

“Thank you for coming to my sister’s rescue,” said Yelena. “But I feel the need to clarify that I am still better than her.”

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that,” your beloved redhead replied sarcastically, finishing the rest of her food and putting the dishes in the sink. “Come, sestra. Let’s put that to the test.”

As the two made their way to the gym — with Wanda shaking her head and mumbling something along the lines of ‘here we go again’ — and the rest dispersed to either have their lunch or resume whatever task they had been doing, you sat alone by the island and took a bite of your own sandwich.

You smiled to yourself, thinking about how good you had it despite having to risk your life every day. You were absolutely in love with Natasha Romanoff, not to mention the amazing family you’d made with the Avengers.

Your thoughts were briefly interrupted when a blur of purple darted past you, but not before giving you a kiss on the head.

“Thanks for saving me back there, Y/N/N!” Clint waved, making his way to the armoury to actually get some of those trick arrows so Natasha wouldn’t be suspicious.

#18250mm #18250mm’s fics #marvel #mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #gn reader #super soldier #one shot #fanfic

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curlycow01 · 4 months

Text

Only you

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You and the Winter soldier escape hydra together, and feelings for each other are revealed along the way

Meanings: солдат - soldier

Read part 2 here

Out of all the test subjects Hydra gave the serum to, only you survive. You and Soldat were the perfect soldiers of Hydra, their greatest weapons. They brainwash you both, but they overdo yours, and break your mind, making you forget all the memories pre serum, the life you previously had.

Hydra sends you both on missions to assassinate high level targets and you both end up saving each other's lives a lot of times, creating this weird dynamic. Even through the fragments of your mind, you seek the Soldat's presence, his powerful stance and intimidating silence, drawing you to him as your only sense of comfort.

No matter how many times Hydra wipes his memories, his feelings for you don't go away. When he realizes he cares about you, he's determined to find a way to save you.

Decades pass and one day Soldat returns from a mission. Looks like he didn't complete it as his metal arm had sustained heavy internal damage. He seems a bit off as you observe him from a corner. Alexander Pierce enters the room and asks him for the mission report.

The soldat doesn't reply, lost in thought. Pierce hits him on the face, the sound echoing through the room. You feel a flash of anger. "The man on the bridge" he says quietly to pierce, his face having a genuine expression of curiosity. "Who was he?"

"You met him earlier this week on another assignment." Pierce answers. "I knew him" Soldst's voice had a hint of faraway recognition. Pierce is clearly not happy. "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time." he takes a small pause. "If you don't do your part I can't do mine, and Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves.

The Soldat's face was sad, he pressed his lips for a second before speaking in a defeated tone "But I knew him" Pierce sighs in frustration and gets up from the chair. He looks at him for a moment before turning to the scientists "Prep him" One of them spoke up "But he's been out of cryo freeze too long." "Then wipe him and start over" Pierce answers.

Your heart skips a beat as you hear those words. Pierce leaves. the scientist push Soldat back in the chair. Machines attach themselves onto his head, cackling with electricity.

You grip the railing tightly as his horrific screams echoed through the room, his naked chest heaving with heavy breathing. Guards come and escort you elsewhere, but his screams were still ringing through your ears.

Hours later

You opened your eyes and stepped out of the cryo freeze, to see the scientists panicking and few armed guards shuffling around uncomfortably.

The head Doctor spoke up "This doesn't change anything. We still have one supersoldier left. The Asset's failure, though frustrating, is not a complete disaster. Captain America is dead. The collision of the helicarriers killed both of them."

Your blood runs cold as the sentence sinks in. A small gasp escapes your lips at the fact that he's gone. He couldn't be, you didn't want to believe it. The Doctor notices your gasp and turns to you with a darkened expression. "Look at this" he says in a mocking tone "You've grown feelings for him, have you?" he scoffs " Having emotions makes you weak. We've lost the Soldat, but we can still use you, make you the next perfect soldier"

You're frozen in place as the Doctor reveals the truth. "Wipe her" he commands the guards in an emotionless voice. You're still rooted to the ground as the guards approach you. They roughly push you into the chair and lock restraints around your wrists.

Your heart is thundering in your chest as the electrocuting machines on either side of your head are switched on with a small hum of electricity. Adrenaline courses through your veins as the contraption starts coming close to you. You shut your eyes tightly, bracing for the pain.

You feel the cool metal closing around your head for a second, then a huge wave of blinding pain shoots through you, it's like the voltage of an electric chair dialed up to 11. Your cries of pain fall on deaf ears, and you barely survive the first wave. Tears streak down your cheeks as you waited for the second wave. But it never comes.

You slowly open your eyes, still blurry with tears. You can't hear much due to the ringing in your ears, but you can make out that the machine's stopped. A loud crash breaks through the ringing, and you try to blink away the tears to see what's going on.

You see the soldat plowing through the guards and the terrified scientists. The way he was landing his punches was in pure rage, nothing like you've ever seen him before. You try to move, but you were tightly bound by the restraints. Your breathing was still ragged, the first wave left you with little energy.

Gentle fingers brush against your cheek, you snap your head from the restraints to see your savior. "солдат?" your voice is low and hoarse as you gaze into his piercing blue eyes, which were laced with concern. "Bucky" he says as he starts freeing you from the restraints.

You try to stand, but your knees were wobbly, Bucky swiftly grabs your arm to steady you. His eyes scan you for any other injuries. "I should have gotten here sooner" he says grimly, his hand wrapped around yours protectively. "They said that you died" you say slowly, looking up at him "They said the crash killed you, but you survived. Why didn't you run?"

"I couldn't leave" Bucky answers, his gaze softening as he continues "Not without you. Not when you were still trapped." His metal arm reached up and brushed some hair that had fallen over your face, this action made your stomach flip. The atmosphere between you two changed.

"So, uh" you say awkwardly, breaking the silence "Where do we go now?" "I have a place in Romania. We should be safe there." He answers.

"Great" You're trying to sound like you're okay, even though you were anything but okay on the inside, all of these emotions swirling inside of you. He could never know you think he'll never feel the same

You started walking to the exit, but Bucky caught your arm. You turned to him "Aren't we leaving?" He took a deep breath before speaking "Before I killed the Doctor, he said that you had grown attached to me and" he paused for a moment and blinked slowly "that you had feelings for me"

Your breath slightly hitched as he finally learnt your secret. "He also tried to insult you, but I snapped his neck before he could finish the sentence" Bucky takes a step closer to you. "Is that true? That- that you have feelings for me?" he asks slowly. You only nodded, not knowing what to say.

"How long?" As you're thinking what to say, you suddenly realize that he's standing close to you, his lips only inches away. how you would love to- woah. Wait a minute. You snap out of your thoughts and rasp out "A while"

His flesh hand reached out and lightly traced your jaw with his fingers "Why didn't you say anything? he asks softly. You hesitated for a moment "I- I thought you didn't feel the same, because hydra removed emotions-" "Hydra couldn't take away this." He interrupted. His hand stilled and pulled away from your jaw. "They couldn't take you away from me. They didn't change the way I feel about you."

His metal arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Before you could realize what's happening. his lips were on yours. Your lips perfectly molded his, moving in sync. His other hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

His muscular frame covered you completely as his tongue brushed against your lip, silently asking for entry. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. His tongue danced against yours as his hand moved through your hair.

You both pulled away after a few moments for air. Bucky's metal arm was tracing circles on your hip. "I'll never let them hurt you again" He whispers "I'll always keep you safe." He looks at you with utmost love and affection in his sky-blue eyes.

"Do you think we can make this work?" You whisper back, taking his hand in your own "The world won't accept this. They won't accept us. "Screw the world" Bucky replies firmly and squeezes your hand in reassurance "I don't care about the world, what they say or want, I don't." He intertwines his fingers with yours.

"I only care about you"

#winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #winter soldier fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic

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myfictionaldreams · 11 months

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Day 30: Freeuse - Winter Soldier

Summary: He was your patient. You were in charge of making sure all of his needs were met, no matter what they were.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, non-consensual elements, dubious content, freeuse, discussion of injuries, violence, masturbation, fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, stalking (kinda), possessive

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He was your priority. Hydra had recruited you with the hopes of creating an experiment to see if anyone could be trained to look after the assassin frozen in a Cyrogentic state. You were trained and kept underground to be the lead carer and doctor for the Winter Soldier. He was yours to look after, physically and mentally. After each mission you sent him on, he’d return and give you the reports. Most importantly, you were always the first face he’d see before and after being on the ice.

The Soldier would answer to you and Alexander Pierce, but even that was touchy sometimes as he would look to you before answering Pierces’ questions as if he was asking for permission to talk.

What’s more, is that you knew who he was outside of his assassin's status. James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, born in 1917, was the best friend to the one and only Captain America, Steve Rogers, who was currently alive, having been found in the ice and unbeknown to him, his best friend was also alive with similar super solider serum pumping through his veins. Steve was Bucky’s potential saviour; one day, you hoped to be there when this could become a reality; however, currently, you were watched so closely by everyone in Hydra that you’d not even been able to contemplate a plan as to how to break him out. Until then, he was your priority, keeping him out of harm's way as much as possible.

Alexander Pierce had given you strict instructions to adhere to every single need that may affect or alter the soldier's performance as the ghostly assassin. At first, you just assumed it was to feed him, wash, cut his hair, make sure he was healthy and metal arm was working to its best ability. But the basic human need for the Winter Soldier ran deeper than that, causing your role as his doctor and carer to be blurred and something more developed.

The longer he was out of the ice, the more you would notice his increasing frustrations that couldn’t be erased with a simple afternoon in the gym or sparring with other guards. There were even days when no one could calm him down, his aggression so high that he had to be sedated if you were not available to talk to him.

For example, there was once a day when you were actually off of the unit, in your new flat, having just been granted the allowance to live there when Rumlow came knocking on your door. He only gave you the courtesy of putting on your shoes before gripping your upper arm and dragging you to the office.

When you arrived, the rooms were in disarray. Equipment smashed, blood and unconscious bodies trying to be aided too. It was a mess, and you were more nearly barging down the door to get to him, shouting for the guards to stand down and leave him to you. Yes, he was a highly trained assassin, but with the trust he held in you, there was no way he would intentionally harm you.

The underground room had no windows, which you were thankful for as they would have been destroyed in his rampage. You were only dressed in your joggers and a vest top, trainers already marked with red streaks from the puddles you’d walked through. It felt like your heart would escape your mouth with how erratic it was pounding in your chest as you tried to take in his appearance.

The shirt he had previously been wearing was now ripped to shreds on the floor. The tactical trousers had tears throughout but still seemed to be held together enough that he was indecent, and combat boots that gleamed with smudges where he’d been kicking objects and people. Each of his knuckles were busted in their own way. The flesh hand was cut, and the metal fist was red with other people's blood.

You’d not seen him become this erratic since he’d been out of his cryogenic state for too long, and his memories began to return to him as he questioned his entire existence. Whereas for this example, he’d only been defrosted for several days and shouldn’t have had any cognitive issues.

Stepping closer with your hands raised to show you meant no threat, you asked in a clear, concise voice, “Soldier? Where is the threat?”

His height seemed to tower over yours, more so than usual, as he turned his deathly glare towards you. The hulking muscles of his shoulders heaved with each breath he took as if he was out of breath, which was a rare occasion as he could run for miles and continue to breathe steadily, unaffected by the strenuous exercise. Your question was supposed to help identify what his issue was, hoping he’d find you being there to create a safe space for him, but the angry charge of his massive body had you flinching back in shock.

The warm hand of his wrapped around your throat, using the momentum of his steps to push you back up against the wall. Your hands remained up, even though you were itching to tear at his wrist to relieve some pressure. He wasn’t squeezing hard enough that you were struggling to breathe, but it was still uncomfortable and unnerving.

Your mind was working on overdrive, trying to think of a way to ease the stress he was going through. Your eyes searched over his body, starting with his head and face, but there were only minor scratches and grazes from the fights. Lower your eyes explore his arms and chest until they halted, seeing something that had never been through your consideration.

His tactical pants were tented, showing the outline of his hard-on, raging just as violently as the blue of his eyes. Was this the issue of his anger? The soldier shifted his stance, hand twitching towards his crotch like he was going to move himself to be more comfortable, but stopped as he watched you closely.

Alexander Pierce had once told you that whatever the Soldier wanted or needed, you were to give it to him to ensure that he was performing to his best abilities. You cursed to yourself quietly, unsure if this was even plausible or right to do. Of course, it wasn’t right to do. He was a prisoner in his own body, but you were his doctor, and you had a job to do.

“It’s okay. I know what will help you. I’ll show you how to get rid of the pain; I won’t touch you, I promise”.

From there, you were able to explain anatomy, the ache throbbing through his abdomen and how he could relieve himself. He did. Right there in front of you, his pants by his knees and cock in hand until he came on your shoes.

You didn’t so much as blink or flinch at the action. He didn’t understand that it wasn't appropriate to cum on someone's shoes or to masturbate in a somewhat public scenario. It calmed him down enough that you could push him back onto a chair and fix the injuries that were already mostly healed.

These situations only continued to escalate, which occurred more often than not. However, the Winter Soldier only touched himself when you were around, and you were unsure if it was because you made him feel safe or for other reasons that Rumlow liked to hiss in your ear, saying that the deadly assassin had a crush on his favourite doctor.

You blew it off as gossip and nasty rumours, unprofessional at most.

This only lasted for a few months before you noticed the changes in the Soldier, and it all came to a head one night as he turned up at your apartment after a mission. You hadn’t even told him your address, and he wasn’t due back from the mission for another 24 hours, but there he was, at the end of the bed, having snuck through the window as you were halfway through having some intimate time yourself.

Your fingers were between your legs, eyes closed, and your head tipped back, not covering your moans as you didn’t think you’d need to as you were living by yourself. The assassin watched, confusion causing his brows to furrow, head tilted to the side as his fists clenched.

The look on your face was one he’d never seen before, and he noticed the anatomy was different to his. Of course, he was aware that not everyone had the same genitals as his, but it hadn’t crossed his mind that it could be touched like this.

The only time you were aware of his presence was when the bed dipped, your eyes snapping open and legs closing as you released an almighty scream that caused the Soldier to flinch.

“Mine”, he muttered under his breath, grabbing your ankle and dragging you closer.

“What? Soldier, what are you doing here? When did you- please stop” he paused his attempts to drag you closer as he was half crawling over your body. You were trying to remain calm, but he was acting so possessive, and why was he even here? How did he get in?

“Mine”, he repeated above you again, eyes trained between your legs.

You were at a loss for words, feeling both confused and safe simultaneously, even with someone as dangerous as this. The night was one that definitely crossed the line for professionalism.

The Winter Soldier was so interested in your masturbation and different genitals that he practically begged you to continue, shouting mine and gazing at your intimate area until you continued.

You came, and then the Soldier unbuckled his belt and ejaculated over your stomach, and this was the turning point of the relationship. Your job now seemed to be a half doctor, half a sexual release. Masturbation escalated into hands in underwear until there was no point holding back the restraint, and the two of you were fucking.

It was challenging to wrap your head around, especially when the two of you were in the work environment, but if it was what he wanted and needed that you were more than happy to be face pushed into the wall, trousers and underwear by your ankles and cock shoving so far into your cunt that you saw stars.

The most significant issue was that, even though none of the workers commented on it, they all knew the sex was occurring. Mainly because the Winter Soldier didn’t seem to understand that this was supposed to be something that was for ‘behind closed doors’ and out of view of the guards and other doctors. To him, if he was to push you over the table and whisper “mine”, then this was enough warning that he wanted to fuck, even if you were unfathomably embarrassed that your coworkers had to watch you coming undone to the man they were all looking after.

The worst time had to have been when Alexander Pierce came strolling into the ‘jail’ they kept the Soldier in during his downtime. Multiple guards were surrounding him, and three doctors in lab coats were working tirelessly around the room. You’d been in there for hours. Warm, tired and ready to eat whatever take-out you could encounter on the drive home later that night.

With Pierces’ presence, however, your posture straightened, and you tried to remain as professional as possible. This was a feat easier said than done as The Soldier eyed you from across the room, staring with his unblinking glare. Eventually, he pushed past Pierce, the guards all raising their guns expecting a fight, but there was none to have as the metal fingers of his specially made hand eased into the front of your work trousers, plain underwear and pushed into your cunt.

“What are you doing?! Now is not the time and place- Ah fuck!”. There was nothing other than a hand over your mouth that could have stopped the moan pitching from your lips as his thumb circled your clit. You’d not been at all aroused, but he had learned enough about your body to know the exact way to stimulate your bundle of nerves and curl his fingers inside of you to stroke that beautiful spot that had you whimpering without any restraint.

As he pleasured you in front of all your colleagues, there was nothing you could do but painfully grip on to his metal forearm. He didn’t even smile or mutter a single word as he made you orgasm with a knee-buckling euphoria. It seemed he was just in the mood to hear your whines as he turned around and sat back in front of Pierce, who was looking between the two of you.

“It seems things have changed through here. I’m glad you have been able to … satisfy the Asset by any means necessary”.

You tried not to visibly cringe with the way he had worded it as you tried to straighten your clothes and continue with the work you had been completing before. Nothing further was thankfully said as he was given his next mission, and you were left to continue working for a further three hours with underwear that was utterly soaked due to his wandering fingers.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #winter soldier smut #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x reader #marvel smut #marvel fic #winter soldier one shot #bucky barnes x reader #mine*#kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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kb-p2730 · 11 months

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Re-Animator

#RE-ANIMATOR #thrash metal #british thrash metal scene #speed metal #hydra vein #onslaught #sabbat #acid reign

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navybrat817 · 11 months

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Mission Report

Pairings: Incubus!Stucky x Enhanced!Female Reader, Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Incubus!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: After a night with the two demons, Brock comes to collect your body and faces the fury of all three of you. Word Count: Over 4k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, threesome, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, spitroasting, blood, violence (shooting, stabbing, and more), physical and mental torture, dark elements, death, revenge, implied noncon, possessive behavior, supernatural elements, Incubus Stucky (that's a warning, lovelies!). A/N: Fic #10 and final fic for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! I had to revisit my incubi the day before Halloween and this is a direct follow up to Ready to Comply. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Less than a day passed since Bucky and Steve claimed you as their own, but it felt like you always belonged to them. You were their eternal award for their capture. They were your reward for the pain you endured. The three of you would scorch the earth together.

Your captors weren't strong enough to endure the flames.

As you lay naked on the floor as instructed, you counted the footsteps as the squad members got closer. There were three pairs of heavy boots, one set which belonged to Brock Rumlow. You almost pushed yourself up when fiery anger coursed through your veins. You wanted him turned to ash just so you could watch the wind blow him away into nothingness. It would be glorious to smile in the face of his demise.

“She feels your rage, Buck. Reign it in,” Steve ordered from where he sat in the corner.

“No,” Bucky spoke in an almost laidback tone from the opposite corner. “Let her feel it.”

In the very short time they bound you to them, you figured out that Steve was the more assertive of the two. It didn't mean Bucky wasn't forceful when he had to be. At the moment though, he wanted you to feel a bit more of his impulsive side.

“Now isn’t the time,” Steve chastised, making Bucky scoff in reply.

You lost the concept of time the day you were unwillingly taken under Hydra's wing. Counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds did you no good as you waited for whatever horror they decided to unleash upon you. The days were no longer a precious gift, but a stark reminder that you were closer to death.

A sound reminiscent of a snarl escaped as you opened your mouth. “Hydra took everything from me,” you grumbled as angry tears sprang to your eyes. “I want their blood to stain the ground. I want it to paint the walls.”

Thanks to the demons in your cell, your demons, you would get your revenge. You would live to fight again. And you would live to serve them. You promised them forever, after all.

An odd sense of comfort surrounded you and allowed you to breathe a bit easier. “We can feel your pain, sweetheart,” Steve whispered.

Bucky hummed, the warmth doubling within your chest. “We can also feel your strength, doll.”

“We'll spill their blood,” the blonde promised as you blinked the tears away. “But not if you're impatient. We need you to act docile when they take you out of the room.”

“Stevie's right. We know you're angry. We all are. They'll pay. Trust us,” the brunette agreed. “And we'll have lots of fun along the way.”

Demons were many things and played lots of tricks, but one thing they wouldn't do was lie to you. It allowed you to let the hurt go for the time being. “I'll behave,” you whispered when the footsteps stopped in front of the door.

“That's our girl,” the incubi said in unison, the words wrapping around your heart and reminding you that you weren't alone in this fight.

The bond crackled between the three of you as the door swung open. It allowed you to remain still, just like they told you to. You made no move to cover yourself as the men observed you on the floor. Your demons also made no move to go toward them. With the symbol above the doorway, there was no way for them to escape.

Yet.

“Well, well, well. I thought we’d find a corpse when we opened the door,” Brock smirked. Instead of snapping back the way you wanted to, you made a wounded sound instead. “But I guess they fucked the fight out of you after all.”

“She was a lot of fun to play with,” Bucky said, the phantom touch of his claw moving along your back easing you. “Really does go pliant with a cock in her.”

You had to bite your lip to suppress your moan. They wrung so much pleasure out of you that you stopped counting the orgasms. You were certain their seed was still dripping out of your holes.

“She was stronger than most,” Steve added, one of his claws joining Bucky’s as you made another small sound. It was arousing as much as it was calming. As fun as it would be to beg for their cocks in front of these men, now wasn’t the time to play. And the guards weren’t an audience who deserved to watch you get off. “Feel free to bring her back.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking freaks,” Brock sneered, his hand tightening around the taser prod on his hip. “Get up, bitch. We don’t have all day.”

You slowly lifted your head and held a hand out. All you had to do was pretend just a little bit longer. “Help me,” you whispered.

His lip curled in a dark smirk as he stayed in place. “You really think I’m dumb enough to go in there? Nice fucking try. Crawl if you can't walk.”

Bucky growled in your mind and Steve’s fury simmered in your core as you began to drag yourself across the cold floor, both of your demons itching to attack when the men laughed at your “weakened” state. You let them have their fun. It would be one of the last things they ever did in this world. And it would be your laughter ringing in their ears once their souls went to Hell.

Soon.

Once you crawled far enough out of the room, the guards finally moved to grab you. They each took an arm and yanked you to your feet, uncaring of your discomfort, as your head lolled from side to side. Brock’s eyes lewedly dragged along your shivering frame before he grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his dark eyes. There was no mercy in his gaze.

And you felt none in your heart for him.

The fingers on your chin tightened painfully, but you didn’t give Brock the satisfaction of whimpering. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered before he forced you to look over your shoulder, your neck straining from the angle. Bucky and Steve’s eyes glowed a furious shade of red as they moved to the center of the room and stared you both down. It would’ve frightened you if you didn’t know that they were yours.

“I think they miss you already. Slut,” Brock taunted, saliva hitting your cheek as he roughly released you and walked down the hall. “Bring her to my office. Let’s see her fight back when she can barely stand on her own two feet.”

Steve whispered one word as the men began to drag you away. “Now.”

A surge of energy flowed through you as you harshly shoved the guard to your right away with enough force that he smacked the wall. Before the other guard could react, you grabbed his gun from his holster and aimed at his head. “Safety first,” you said, firing a bullet through his skull.

“Stupid bitch,” the first guard snapped as he straightened up. You grabbed his wrist when he reached for his gun, his skin warming under your touch as he gasped air. Just as quickly as his skin grew hot, he grew deathly cold.

“You feel that?” Bucky moaned.

“I feel it,” Steve confirmed. “She's giving us his energy.”

You didn't know how you were doing that since Bucky and Steve used sex to drain life force. Were you a conduit now thanks to your bond? Just how powerful had they made you?

“Help,” the guard gasped before you pressed the gun to his forehead and fired. You smiled when his body hit the floor. It felt like minutes, but happened in the span of seconds.

The blood along the walls also brought an unexpected moan out of you.

Blood. Red. Lust.

“That’s our girl,” Steve praised.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky added, their pride in you making you whimper.

“Really?” Brock muttered from the end of the hall as he turned to face you, his gun in hand as you shrugged. “I should’ve known you’d do something stupid. Now I need to hire two more men.”

“Actually, you’re the one who did something stupid by giving me to them,” you said, gesturing behind you. “And we’re going to kill you.”

Your captor’s scoff made you smile more. He didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong. “Just because you have the serum doesn't mean you're not expendable,” he said, aiming the gun at your heart. “Let's see you try and kill me with a bullet in your chest, bitch.”

“You’re not going to shoot me,” you spoke in a low and hypnotic voice. It wasn’t your own. Your demons were speaking through you. “You’re going to shoot the symbol above the door until you run out of bullets and drop your weapon.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Brock’s forehead as he slowly raised his arm higher, the veins in his neck straining as he tried to resist the order. He had every reason to be afraid. The marking was the only reason Bucky and Steve hadn’t killed him yet. Once they were free, he’d have to answer for his sins.

“What the fuck?” he asked.

“Doesn't feel good to not be in control, does it?” you replied, taking great pleasure in knowing he couldn't stop himself. “Shoot.”

You stared him down as he fired the first shot, watching him grit his teeth. Your nipples hardened as he fired again and you couldn’t help but dip a hand between your legs as power continued to move through you. It shouldn’t have aroused you so much with two dead bodies nearby, but revenge was exhilarating to say the least.

“Don’t get started without us,” Bucky called out, even as you envisioned him wrapping a hand around his cock. With a whine, you grudgingly stopped touching yourself. “I wanna taste you while he begs for his life.”

“Oh, he’ll beg,” Steve smirked, his claws scratching the wall by the door. “And we won’t listen to his prayers.”

“Shit,” Brock groaned, his arm trembling as he took his last shot.

The hall went silent as you dared to look behind you. Whatever marking that kept the demons trapped in that cell was gone now, lost in a pile of rubble and dust on the ground. “It’s time to play,” you said, urging them to come out.

The gun fell from Brock’s hand as Steve took the first step. He sighed happily when nothing prevented him from walking through, but the glow of his eyes was anything but comforting as he looked at Brock. With unnatural speed, he flew toward him as he reached for his radio. The snap of his wrist breaking was one of the best sounds you’d ever heard.

“Mmm. Break his other wrist, Stevie,” Bucky suggested as he stepped out of the room and joined you at your side. You gasped when he pulled you in front of him to grind his hips against you, his cock hard and hot against your skin. “Make him scream.”

“Fuck-” Brock screamed as Steve snapped his other wrist, his hands useless as the blonde demon grinned.

Steve brought his finger to his mouth and licked a drop of blood away. “You taste bitter,” he taunted before he lifted his head. “Another guard is on the way.”

Bucky chuckled as said man entered the hall a moment later. “All alone? That's brave and stupid.”

“Oh, my God,” he said as he surveyed the scene.

It had to be quite the sight. Blood and brain matter along the walls, the man's boss on the ground in pain, you and your demons naked and unafraid. Haunting and beautiful.

“There's no God here,” Bucky smirked as he lazily rocked his hips against you. “But feel free to pray anyway.”

“Do something!” Brock ordered through his pain.

Bucky spoke a command in his natural tongue as the guard dropped his gun. Fear radiated from him as he took a knife from his belt and turned the edge toward his throat. “I don't wanna-” he shoved the blade deep in his neck with wide eyes before he could finish his statement, gurgling as he collapsed.

“Die,” you whispered, completing his sentence.

You had to bite back a moan as Bucky turned your head to meet your lips in a filthy kiss, Steve smirking as he looked back at you two. The carnage fueled their need as much as yours. As the coppery scent of the blood continued to fill your nostrils, you justified that this was the right thing to do. The men made their beds.

They could die in them.

“Come in,” a voice on Brock's radio rang out.

“Shh. Don’t make a sound,” Steve ordered, grabbing Brock’s radio as the operative went eerily silent. His eyes bulged as the demon began to speak with his voice. “Go ahead.”

“Thought I heard commotion in the hall. Sent David in to assist. Do you need more backup? Over.”

“Negative. Subject tried to escape and we subdued her. All clear. But no one is to go in the South Wing, no matter what you see or hear. And tell all S.T.R.I.K.E. members to gather in the debriefing room and await further instructions. Over.”

“But sir-”

Steve's eyes flashed as he continued to speak like Brock. “Did I fucking stutter? Get the men there and stay the fuck out of here. That's a direct order. Over.”

“Roger that.”

Bucky chuckled when Steve crushed the radio in his hand. No alarms rang out. No soldiers ran down the hall to recapture you. There were no lockdowns. Brock knew he was fucked.

And not in the way you would be.

“You know, Rumlow. You truly are a dark soul with a penchant for pain,” the brunette began, nipping your shoulder as his hands roamed your body. “We could’ve worked out some sort of deal with you. Given you true power. But you just had to lock us up.”

Something dark surfaced from the depths of your mind as you listened. You saw yourself curled up, naked and trembling, in the corner of a cell similar to the one they kept your demons in as Brock advanced on you. “Make yourself useful or you’ll die choking on my cock,” he threatened. It was a memory you kept locked away after they captured you and shot you up with the serum. One they thought they erased for good.

The anguish was almost enough to drown yourself in.

“And you just had to hurt our girl,” Steve snarled, swiping his claws across Brock’s cheek when you whined.

“No one hurts our girl,” Bucky growled over his cry as blood sprayed from the open wounds.

You no longer felt like you were drowning as they fed you strength, allowing you to see clearly again. You always wanted someone protective by your side. Someone to fight for you. Now you had two beside you.

“He can’t hurt me anymore,” you said as the blonde grabbed him by his hair and pulled him back down the hall toward you. He may have yanked a few strands out along the way. “Would you like to hear my mission report, Rumlow?”

His chest heaved a bit as he lay on the ground, trying to breath steadily through the pain. “Yes,” he lied, knowing better than to smart off again.

You arched your back when Bucky covered your breast with his hand, squeezing it gently as Steve joined you and began to play with the other. “You tossed me in their cell with the hopes they’d drain my energy, but I came out stronger. You know why? Because I gave myself to them. All of me,” you explained. A gunshot rang out before Brock screamed and grabbed his knee, the pistol you stole from the dead guard now in Steve's hand. “Their power flows through my veins and my soul belongs to them. We’re bound to each other.”

“And her energy is delicious. Just like her cunt,” Bucky smiled as he turned and shoved you into Steve’s arms. He sank to his knees and winked before he tossed your leg over his shoulder, nosing at your slit. “Hold my horns if you need to.”

“I supposed we should thank you,” Steve said, tossing the gun away. He brought a hand back to your breast, pinching your nipple as Bucky licked along your folds. You grabbed his horns and squeezed when his wicked tongue got to work. “Whatever you injected her with helped her survive what would've killed a normal human. And the more we fucked her, the more she needed us.”

“Such a greedy, pretty thing when she takes our cocks,” Bucky spoke against your pussy, the image of him fucking your throat while Steve took you from behind shimmering in your mind. You could feel them inside you, claiming you as theirs. “Didn’t even take much for her to come when we took her ass.”

Your holes clenched, desperate for them to fill you again. “You tried to turn me into a weapon,” you moaned, smiling as blood dripped from Brock’s leg. “I guess, in a way, you succeeded. Because we’re going to destroy Hydra.”

Bucky flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit as you squirmed. It wasn't enough. You needed more. “Three guards down.”

Steve smiled as he kissed along your neck, his lips lingering on your pulse. “And you’re next, Rumlow.”

“No,” Brock breathed, pushing himself up with his elbow. Fire filled your eyes when he met your gaze, his face going pale under your stare. Were your eyes glowing? “I-I can still join you. I can help.”

“I don’t think you can help us,” Steve said, nodding down to Bucky. His tongue stabbed deep with a moan as he swiped his hand along Brock’s thigh, his claws tearing through the tactical pants and skin. More blood splattered as he screamed in agony. “But you can bleed.”

“Beg. I want you to beg for me to save you,” you moaned, grinding against the brunette’s face before your expression twisted with anger. “I was innocent, you piece of shit.”

Where was your innocence now? Gone. Destroyed. But you made a choice. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness by joining forces with the incubi they captured. And you didn't regret it for a second.

“Please,” Brock said above a whisper, trying in vain to cover his wounds. How much had it taken for him to say that single word? “I-I was just following orders. I'm sorry. Save me.”

You regarded Brock with an unsympathetic gaze. You could show him compassion that he never bestowed upon you and let him see that there was still good in you. But where was the fun in that? What kindness did you possibly owe him?

You glanced back at Steve as you considered it, who merely smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You felt Bucky smile, too. They encouraged your fury, fueled it. These demons truly were glorious. Horrifying.

And they were yours.

“You're not sorry and you know the orders were bullshit. So as far as saving you?” You asked, smiling when the realization of his doom crossed his face. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Brock's hands flew to his head as he let out a cry of anguish. It filled the hall, like a song of agony as the lights flickered. The sound almost shook you to your core, but it fed into your growing darkness. You embraced it with a smile.

“Do you know who those screams in your head belong to?” Steve asked evenly as Brock continued to yell and thrash around. “That's the suffering of every person you ever hurt. All the pain you caused.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away to glare at him. “Including our girl.”

How many bodies had Brock and his men left on their path of destruction? How many lives had they ruined? It was only fair to return the favor.

“Stop it! Make it stop!” Brock cried, slamming the back of his head against the ground with enough force to crack it. “Stop!”

You cried out when Bucky shoved two fingers inside you, his claws careful not to cut you as he thrust deep. “You're close, doll. Dripping down my fingers,” he said, the sound of your wetness blending in beautifully with the wail of pain.

“He's close, too,” Steve said in your ear as he reached down to toy with your clit, playing with the sensitive bud with a grunt. You hardly paid any attention to Brock now, even as his body twitched and blood from his skull stained the floor. He was inconsequential to you as the light began to fade from his eyes. He was nothing. “It's the end for him.”

Bucky twisted his fingers with a smirk, your pussy quivering as you were ready to fall apart. “Come while he takes his last breath. Let go. Let it all go.”

Your vision swam as you did as he commanded, your entire body throbbing with pleasure. You felt the air leave Brock's lungs as bliss flooded you, Bucky's groan obscene as he brought his mout back to lick up your essence. Steve held onto you as you lost yourself, every part of you inside and out owned by their touch.

In that moment, you were invincible.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, his mouth and chin wet from your release as he took his fingers out and lowered your shaky limb from his shoulder. “Damn. I thought he'd last a little longer. I wanted to shove his taser rod up his ass.”

“You still can,” Steve said, kissing your shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. You okay?”

The praise from both of them made you preen as you looked at the surrounding carnage, slowly coming down from your high. “I'm better than okay,” you exhaled, reaching out with your foot to nudge Brock's body, relief hitting you square in the chest when he didn’t move. Your tormentor was dead. And you wouldn't shed a single tear for him. “He's gone. He's really gone.”

“He is. And we're free, thanks to you, doll,” Bucky spoke, licking his fingers clean before he stroked himself, a cool shade of blue flickering from his red eyes. “Our mate.”

I'm theirs and they're mine.

And as their mate, you had to thank them. Take care of them. Worship their hard and aching cocks the way you were made to.

“Fuck me,” you breathed.

“With pleasure,” Steve smiled, putting you on your hands and knees before he sank down behind you. He shoved his thick cock inside you with no warning, the head of it practically kissing your cervix as you screamed. “This is just the beginning. We have more lives to destroy when we’re done fucking you. For now.”

Bucky tapped his cock against your cheek affectionately before he pushed inside your eager mouth. “Alexander Pierce. Jasper Sitwell. Everyone. We'll kill them all,” he promised, snapping his hips in time with Steve as you moaned, letting them use you like a ragdoll between them. But you didn't feel used in the slightest.

You felt complete.

“You're free,” Steve grunted, bringing his palm down on your ass with a sharp slap. “We're free.”

He was right. You were finally free from the shackles Hydra tried to put on you. And you couldn't wait for the carnage the three of you would continue to spread, once you could form a coherent thought. All you wanted for now was for them to paint every hole of yours until there wasn’t a drop left.

Bucky's head fell back with an excited moan, as if he read your mind. “And we have so much time to make up for. So take our cocks and let us fill your holes before we burn this place to the ground.”

That was a mission you were more than happy to complete.

So, THAT happened and I'm not sorry. Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 22 days

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The Soldier Of Death (4)- Fighting The Enemy

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 2.3k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence and murder, dark thoughts

—

Crimson stained your hands, the warm liquid slowly dripping down your forearms as you leaned over the body, fragments of skull blending with flesh and brain being held in your trembling hands.

Eyes pleaded you for their life as you stood over their body, words spilling desperately out of their lips as they stared up at you, begging for you to take mercy. Their pleas were cut short, blood splattering on the floor behind them, the life gradually draining out of their eyes.

A gut wrenching cry was torn out of their throat when your hand forced its way past skin and bones, fingers roughly gripping onto their intestines, squeezing with vigour for another primal sound to be ripped out of them before pulling hard, their body falling limp to the ground. A small squelch follows when you drop the organ next to their corpse, not even giving the scene a second glance.

Your hand hits the side of your head as you twitch it to the side, shaking the thoughts out of your mind, trying to focus on your mission.

Your mind was slowly fracturing into pieces, various memories flooding your thoughts as you walked through the eerie hallway, boots echoing in the abandoned space. You weren't sure what had happened, the only thing that you knew for certain was that you were to obey. You didn't have a choice. It was engraved in you. Listen to them. Kill for them. That was all you had to do.

No we don't.

We are better than them.

We aren't a toy for them to play with.

Your jaw clenched at the irritating voice sounding around in your head again, merging with the violent flashbacks, further adding to your unpleasant mood. You were a weapon. Weapons didn't need to think. They just kill. Yet, the incessant part of you was adamant we were stronger, more powerful than them, we could do anything if you just gave over control.

Yes, see, you're getting it now. Give me control.

"So what? You can murder everyone," you mutter out loud, the mask muffling your words as you argue with your alter ego, knowing that, despite the things you have done based on the flashbacks, the things they have done... They were darker, more sinister, they enjoyed it. You didn't. You never would. You did what you had to do to survive.

It's what they deserve.

You want to scream at the voice, begging it to shut up. Yes they deserve to die for what they had done to you but you weren't going to be the ones to kill them.

Every time you come back, you somehow try to be more virtuous.

It groans, a scoff leaving you. You were trying to make up for the things you had done, be a little more merciful, there was nothing wrong with that.

You can't. We can't be good anymore. There's no point in trying to redeem us. We're already a monster, there's no changing that.

At its words, you remain silent, doing your best to ignore them as you wander through the hallways, your eyes focussing on small indents on the wall.

A violent scream was torn out of you, your hands doing everything in their power to stop the guards dragging you back to your cell, your veins burning with agony as the serum entered your bloodstream. Your fingers dug into the concrete, leaving indents as you pried away at the stone, desperately trying to stop them from taking you back.

You shook your head once more, the painful memory soon fading away, leaving you confused. You suddenly seemed to recognise the building you were in, your fingers slotting against the marks, the handprints slightly smaller, your mind too broken to place the significance of the memory.

Pushing down the screams echoing in your mind and shaking off the further memories that invaded your thoughts, you worked your way around the building, searching for the room you were instructed to find. All you knew was that there was a flash drive in there that Hydra needed to keep out of the Avengers' hands, the team apparently gaining intel on this base.

You weren't expecting them to locate it yet nor for them to be in the base, but your general warned you to stay on guard, the order more difficult than expected due to the instability of your mind.

You were nearly at the room but a gnawing feeling made you pause in your tracks, head tilting curiously at the room you were stopped outside of, your hand moving without thought to open the door, revealing the dark and empty concrete cell. You swallowed nervously at the sight of dry blood staining the walls, the floor and even parts of the ceiling, another flashback painfully invading your minds, causing you to lose focus.

***

"I don't have a good feeling about this Steve," Natasha mutters while the two of them enter the base, Wanda entering through a different exit, the team confident in her magic ability and training to handle herself.

"Neither," he sighs out in agreement, their bodies almost silently walking through the abandoned building, Natasha taking the corridors to the left while Steve went right, splitting off to cover more ground.

Nerves etched away at Natasha, the spy confused at the sudden emotion she was feeling. She never got nervous, so why was she on edge? Her gun was firmly gripped in her hand, creeping through the hallways with it raised, ready to fire if needed.

Emerald green searched through various corridors, her eyes glossing over with crestfallen look at the marks all over the wall, indicating a clear struggle all the way down the hall until it reached the isolated steel door at the end. Natasha was already walking towards the room when a quiet, pained noise caught her attention, her finger ready on the trigger as she rounded the corner, pausing at the sight before her.

Your ominous figure stood facing an empty room, hands twitching by your side, unaware of the spy near you, or the Captain who rounded the corner on the other side of the hallway, pausing when Natasha signalled for him to do so.

"Don't make me kill them," you almost whimper out, lost in a spiral of memories, your mind replaying the broken memory. "They're just children."

"I won't repeat it again Soldat," his voice low and commanding at your ear, malice lacing his next words, "Don't leave the room until every single one of them is dead."

Steve raises his shield ready to throw at your words, confusion written across his and the redhead's face.

I told you. We're a monster.

Snapping at the voice inside your head, your fist collides with the wall, trying to express your anger, confusion and hurt, when the sound of metal gliding through the air reaches your ear, body turning to the side, hand catching the vibranium disk.

Steve's face pales a little at how unaffected you were by his throw, most people being knocked back a little, his expression swiftly switching to shock when it's thrown back forcefully at him. He has to take a couple steps back when he catches it to stay balanced, your body making it's way over to him, eyes slowly becoming lifeless as you flicker between having and losing control.

He uses his shield to protect him when your fist collides with the metal, a loud noise reverberating around the room, a gunshot being added to the mix when a bullet slices through your leg, jaw clenching at the pain. You grit your teeth, swinging your other arm to hit the side of the blonde man, a groan escaping him at your strength while he goes to parry your other punch, you injured leg swiping at his knee, knocking him back to the ground.

While the man climbs to his feet, a pair of thighs wrap around your head, trying to force your body to the ground, unable to beat your strength. Wrapping your arms around the back of her body, her elbow being brought down on whatever part of you she could reach, you push her body into the nearest wall, her back painfully banging against it.

The sound of boots approaching quickly causes you to pull away from the wall, slamming the body down against the floor, a small cry escaping her before you lower your body, merely evading the punch from the man and tackling his body to the ground, shield clattering next to him.

Your legs straddle his stomach, grip tight to prevent his movements while your hands goes to his throat, merciless with your grip as his face starts to turn red. Your thumbs dig in harshly against his airways, his hands prying at your own, fingers digging in painfully with the amount of strength he was using making your grip falter, hands reaching to the red and blue metal disk.

Fear glosses over in his eyes as you raise the shield into the air, attempting to bring it down on his throat when his hands clutch at the bottom of it, desperately trying to stop you. Your eyes are dark, no ounce of humanity left in them as you press down harder, the edge of the shield pressing lightly against his throat as he fights for his life,

To catch him off guard, you lift the shield, his fingers slipping off it and enabling you to abruptly bring it back down.

His hands only just block his neck in time, a muffle groan leaving you at the pain radiating throughout your body, electricity coursing through your body from the small device attached onto your neck. The device causes a sense of Deja vu to flicker across your mind, ignoring it as you stagger to your feet, turning to the redhead who raises her gun at you.

Blood oozes out of your leg from where she last shot you, Steve regaining his breath as he slowly pushes his body off the ground, your gaze locked on the woman in front of you, familiarity causing your head to tilt while you stare at her, waiting for her next move.

You can see her hesitation, her finger hovering over the trigger as the barrel is aimed at your face. You take a step forward, daring her to take the shot when she swiftly lowers it, another bullet lodging itself into your body, pain radiating from your side.

You fall to your knees at the pain, her gaze flickering to the man behind you, his hands grabbing the shield once again. You close your eyes, focusing on the sound of his movements to imagine his stance, visualising his body behind you and waiting for the gap to present itself. When he goes to swing the metal at you, you press your hand down into the ground, using it to spring your body off the concrete as you spin around, kicking your leg out to strike into his side.

A loud snap can be heard as the force of your kick splinters his ribs, his body falling to the concrete while he takes in sharp breaths, anguish evident on his face as he holds his side.

You're certain that if he was human the impact would have killed him, instead it merely immobilises him, your attention returning the woman you think you know.

When she keeps her gaze on you, the firearm still aimed at you, you can feel annoyance and anger enter your mind as she hovers her finger over the trigger, not wanting any more bullets to be lodged inside you. Your fingers deftly wrap around the handle of the blade in your pocket, swiftly pulling it and spinning it between your fingers as you wait for her to make the first move.

Confusion sneaks onto your face when she merely smirks at you, her gaze flickering behind you for a brief second. Without even thinking, you turn and launch the knife at the other figure, the metal blade being encased in red tendrils of magic before it clatters to the ground, the brunette's eyes glowing red.

There's a glint of recognition in her eyes when she sees you, her magic abruptly travelling towards you and wrapping around you, the tendrils seeping into the side of your head and into your mind.

You're powerless against her magic, an animalistic noise being torn out of you as more gruesome flashbacks swarm your mind, hands desperately clutching at your head to make it stop.

Natasha watches with a pained look, your cries of anguish stirring something inside her while Wanda lets out a small cry at the things she was seeing in your mind.

You fall to your knees roughly, fingers digging into the side of your head as you try to make it stop, you need to make it stop.

Ending the pain for the both of you, Wanda navigates her way through your fractured mind and eventually manages to get your body to fall unconscious, your body limp of the ground as the witch wipes the tears off of her cheeks, staring at the redhead opposite her who has curiosity written across her face.

"I don't know how long I can hold her," she says to the assassin, her magic still flowing around your head as she tries to keep you still.

"Can you hold her until we get back to the tower?" Natasha asks, making her way over to Steve who is still in agony on the ground. She slowly helps him to his feet, careful not to hurt him anymore while turning her gaze back to the witch.

"I think so," she says a little nervously, focusing on her magic.

"Good, let's get her on the jet, Fury's going to want to know what's happened." Everyone agrees with Natasha's plan, the magic encasing your entire body as you're lifted into the air, the redhead aiding the injured super soldier towards the jet.

What could possibly go wrong?

#natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #hydra #black widow x reader #cw: gore #violence #tw torture #the avengers #super soldier reader

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sytoran · 10 months

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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | w. maximoff

rating 18+ only | pairing sub!wanda maximoff x dom!fem!reader | word count 2.8k | main masterlist

A ✦ AFTERCARE

babygirl loves aftercare!! after you’ve slutted her out into a state of wicked debauchery, where her tears have made her mascara a runny mess, but it’s not comparable to the one between her legs, and she’s been quivering in your arms with erratic breaths as she comes down from her earth-shattering high — she’s in love with the way you treat her like a princess! you’ll bring warm towels and carefully wipe up her sweat and slick, pepper her forehead with chaste kisses and whisper sweet nothings, feed her slow sips of water as wanda’s gives you the most adorable puppy dog eyes. aftercare to wanda is so so important.

B ✦ BODY PART

wanda’s favourite body part of yours is your definitely your hands 😵‍💫 for her there’s just so many things to love about it! the both of you have matching rings, and she loves it when you gently stroke her hair or massage her back. but also the way your grip her thighs and ass when you’re aroused, trying to get as much of her as you can in your hands, the way your long fingers prod at all the sweet spots inside her pretty cunt, the way you stuff two thick fingers into her mouth as she drools and moans your name… wanda could go on and on about the veins in your hands and the practiced speed and dexterity of your fingers, but she would just get wet again.

you’re honestly in love with every part of wanda, but if you had to choose one it would be her tits <3 they’re so pretty, such bouncy little things that you love to play with… you could honestly spend hours with your mouth on her tits. just alternating between sucking on her big nipples or kneading them with your hands, as wanda gets wet from your touch. you love to smush your face between her tits, it’s oddly comforting and reinvigorating. also, you’re in love with the way wanda’s tits look, the light-brown shade of her nipples that you constantly love to squeeze just to mess with her, the freckles that dot the valley between her two mounds. they’re so perfect, and they’re all for you.

C ✦ CUM

wanda cums so hard when she’s with you, shakes and cries as she orgasms. babygirl is one hundred percent a squirter, so easy to please and play with. she tastes so good, an addictive bittersweet taste, and you always have to lap up her sweet nectar from her wrecked pussy. you’d make a show off sucking her juices off your fingers, and wanda would look at you with her lips parted and eyes darkened, and you would stuff your fingers back into her mouth so she can taste herself on your fingers.

D ✦ DIRTY SECRET

wanda’s filthily obsessed with public sex. she loves the thrill of it, the adrenaline running through her veins when you fuck her in a changing stall of a clothes department, when you have her pressed up against the brick wall of an alley behind the bar. she loves it when you stuff your fingers in her mouth to muffle her lewd moans, when you threaten to edge her until she cries if she gets too loud. but babygirl is so dirty and wants more. she has fantasies about you finger-fucking her until the table at a restaurant, playing with her pussy in the darkness of a cinema, eating her out in the first-class airplane rides you take her on. wanda just loves the novelty of melting from your touch while milliseconds away from being found out.

E ✦ EXPERIENCE

you were definitely wanda’s first. from the sokovian war to becoming hydra’s lab rat to living out her avenger life where she was constantly saving the universe, it goes without saying that wanda hardly had time for sex or even a romantic relationship. the first time she did it with you, she was an inexperienced little mess, but also so adorable that you nearly melted. you religiously recall the first time your fingers stretched out her tight little cunt, the sound of wanda’s pretty little whines into your ear as you took her virginity. she’s just your babie <3

F ✦ FAVOURITE POSITION

wanda loves when you do it doggy style. as much as she loves your fingers, your cock stretching her out and filling her up just does it for her. she’d be a squirming mess under you, just your slutted-out fuckdoll — drool at the sides of her mouth, slick dripping down her thighs, a sheen of sweat on her pretty little body. babygirl is in love with the feeling of being completely dominated by you 😵 (ps. she likes the upstanding citizen position too. being bounced on your strap-on with your strong arms just makes her brain melt into mush.)

G ✦ GOOFY

whether wanda is goofy or serious during sex completely differs depending on circumstance. when you’re teasing her, tracing your fingertips over her thighs or flipping up her little skirts, she’d be so flustered, giggling with flushed cheeks and playfully shoving you away. (you know she loves the attention, though.) or when she’s trying to rile you up, she’d climb into your lap, so mischievous as she rubs on your thigh. most of the time, though, there’s no time for humour when you’ve got your babydoll in a full-on breeding press with a squirting strap toy, calling her the filthiest names, fucking her so hard that she’s on the brink of passing out.

H ✦ HAIR

wanda is generally well-trimmed most of the time, likes the feeling of freshness and cleanliness. it might also be due a tiny bit of insecurity, but you dispel any of her worries when you come back early from a work trip one day. she’d been so shy when you tried tug down her shorts the second you’d gotten back, whining that “i- i haven’t shaved in forever, didn’t know you’d be back so soon,” but you just smile with such lovesickness in your eyes, then lap wanda right up from the source. it’s a night she’d never forget, hands twisting in your hair as your face is buried so deep between her thighs <3

I ✦ INTIMACY

during soft sex, the romantic tension between the two of you is so thick wanda can barely breathe. when you’re buried deep in her, warm breath on her delicate collarbone, a hand splayed right over her hammering chest — that’s love right there. it’s a tacit understanding between the two of you, the lovesick puppy eyes, the exchange of whispered ‘i love you’s. sometimes when her heart gets caught up in it a little too much, overflowing with sheer emotion, she’ll cry, sniffing as she comes down from another orgasm. then you’re right there with her, kissing every teardrop that slides down the side of her cheeks, murmuring into her hair that she’s the only one for you through every timeline in the multiverse.

J ✦ JACK OFF

the only time wanda masturbates these days is when she’s A) teasing you in an inopportune moment so she gets fucked before an inch of sweet death or B) attempting to satisfy herself while you’re away. as for the latter, it happens so desperately, fingers plunging in and out of her dripping cunt, wishing it was your fingers instead. her jack-off material comes in the form of images of you, audios of your voice, or simply fantasies of you painted in her head. don’t worry, she gets properly filled up and satisfied the moment you return back home to your precious babygirl.

K ✦ KINK

at the top of wanda’s ever-growing list of kinks is a breeding kink. this has got everything to do with her love of doggy style. she milks your squirting strap toys so well, whether it’s bouncing on your shaft so eagerly or when you’ve got her half-pressed into the mattress, releasing every drop of cum into her pretty pussy. she’s obsessed with the idea of carrying your pups even though it can’t actually happen. (in correlation with her dirty secret, wanda is a whore for exhibitionism. honourable mentions are degradation and choking.)

L ✦ LOCATION

wanda loves to do it anywhere in somewhat public areas. the list of wild places you’ve had sex ranges from the storage room of a green grocer’s to a mcdonald’s carpark (not in the car!) to westview’s darkwood forest. yes, a forest, during a camping trip. talk about the birds and the bees. within the confines of your home, wanda likes it in the kitchen, where you’ve got her bent over the counter, breaking half the silverware in the process.

M ✦ MOTIVATION

wanda’s turned on by anything that you do, honestly, and it’s a little bit concerning. (not that you’d complain.) fixing up the car engine? hot. fiddling around with your guitar? sexy. being good with kids? father her children. chopping the firewood? might as well take her panties off. it’s just an emblem of how much she’s in love with you.

N ✦ NO

involving sex, there’s little wanda wouldn’t be open to. the two of you have tried everything from bondage to impact play to orgasm denial to anal. one thing she would never do, though, is a threesome. babygirl just can’t stand the thought of you fucking anyone else! i mean, she gets jealous pretty easily and once bawled her eyes out when you had a contact named ‘vanessa’ who was in your frequently contacted list. vanessa, for the record, is your sister. anyways, what your babygirl doesn’t yet understand is that you’d forever remain faithful to her 🫶

O ✦ ORAL

on the receiving end, wanda gets drunk on sex with your mouth on her cunt. because when you eat her out, more often than not are you devouring her, licking and sucking and drinking up every drop of her sweet nectar. you’d lap at her folds like a woman starved, pry her thighs apart with a bruising grip like she’s your property, because maybe she is, with the way her eyes roll back and the way she cries out your name.

when she’s the one who’s giving oral, she eats you out so well. she loves the way you tug on her hair and let out curses when she’s got her cute mouth between your legs. ability-wise, babygirl doesn’t have the most experience, but she’s always so determined to please you. and it works too, with the way her eyes shine as she looks up at you with so much adoration, longing to be praised. oral with wanda also consists of her sucking on your strap like her life depends on it, bobbing her head up and down the thick shaft, as you tug on her hair and watch her cheeks hollow out. either way, babydoll loves giving you oral.

P ✦ PACE

the duality of animalistic fucking and sensual sex in your relationship is pretty astounding. wanda’s in love with the dynamic sexual life you share, and you’re eager to please. on days when she’s feeling more romantic, more tender and vulnerable, you’re definitely going slower, taking the time to build up foreplay and kiss her skin and whisper sweet nothing. some days, though, wanda’s libido overtakes her every other sense and she’s jumping on you before you can dive in for a kiss. those days often include the shredding of clothes and the destruction of headboards.

Q ✦ QUICKIE

yes, a thousand times yes. remember what i said about wanda being filthily obsessed with public sex? yeah, that’s what it’s all about. panting for you to go harder in the brick alleyway at the back of a dive bar, fingernails digging into the back of your neck. her biting into your palm in a clothing store changing stall, you knuckle-deep into her cunt, just because she looked too pretty in a new dress. quickies with wanda are hot and fast, but when you’re in the confines of your home you’d fuck for hours.

R ✦ RISK

i think i’ve talked enough about risky sex.

S ✦ STAMINA

wanda’s stamina is fucking scary. you don’t know what’s the world record of how many times a woman can orgasm in 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure your devious little girlfriend holds the title. thank god you’re well-built, as wanda gladly points out with her hand wrapped around your bicep most of the time. because it goes on for hours, really hours, hours of you fucking wanda in all positions known to mankind, high-pitched screams and sensual moans and low grunts echoing around the house til daylight. it’s all worth it in the end, though, to see her drooly lips coated in slick, her pretty pussy absolutely ruined, her clothes soiled and her body a quivering mess.

T ✦ TOYS

other than the often usage of strap-ons, the two of you do have an array of sex toys, but they’re not quite so used as much. there’s the occasional ball gag and handcuffs and butt plug, but ultimately wanda just wants to feel your hot body pressed against hers, heartbeats and hot breaths and all else to feel grounded. you’d buy her anything she liked, though, whether it’s a bigger strap-on or a nipple clamp you can’t wait to try out <3

U ✦ UNFAIR

wanda’s on the receiving end most of the time, maybe even a pillow princess, so she doesn’t really get to be unfair. but you, on the other hand, are fucking devious. you’re so sinfully good at edging wanda, bringing her storming to the edge of pleasure, teetering at the end of the cliff — and then leaving her there, watching her be reduced to a mess of tears and helpless pleas. unfair? that isn’t even comparable to the way you text her sometimes, teasing her so much, asking what she’s wearing, calling her a good girl, sending her voice audios. you know the effect you have on your babygirl, and you’re not afraid to use it.

V ✦ VOLUME

at the start of your relationship, wanda was too shy to let out her moans, always sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and squeezing her eyes shut, trying not to let out any embarrassing. but after months of growing more comfortable around you during sex, she’s become the loudest little brat you’ve ever seen. her moans are high-pitched and breathy, raising in volume the more you tease and fuck her. the way wanda screams your name when she orgasms is something that is etched into your brain for a lifetime to come.

W ✦ WILD CARD

in the first few months of your relationship with wanda, she was too shy to initiate sex. so, she resorted to pressing up close to you and looking at you with the biggest doe eyes. at first, you thought she just wanted cuddles, but after a few repeated encounters, you eventually deciphered the reasoning behind your girlfriend’s actions. the day you understood what she meant, wanda was so happy she giggled into your neck as you carried her to the bedroom.

X ✦ X-RAY

wanda’s breasts are perky, round mounds. they’re not the biggest ever, but big enough to wrap your hands around and knead. her nipples are a shade of light-brown, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. using her breasts as stress balls is your biggest reliever. it’s either that or burying your face between her boobs.

Y ✦ YEARNING

if there was an award for the most yearning a girlfriend could do, wanda would take top spot, no competition at all. she wants sex all the time, her sex drive even higher than yours, which is pretty insane. (considering you want to fuck her silly every time you see her in a skirt.) the yearning doesn’t even have to be sexual, too, it could be the yearning for domestic affection. cleaning the dishes with you, cuddling with you while you watch tv, going grocery shopping together. wanda yearns to be with you, every second of every day, until the two of you are old and grey.

Z ✦ ZZZ

as good as wanda’s stamina is, she’d more than not fuck herself silly until she passes out. which should be slightly concerning, but you think it’s adorable. and pretty hot. as a result, you’re always up after she falls asleep, and you take the time to watch her. her long eyelashes, her soft locks of hair, the rising and falling of her bare chest, her body snuggled into yours — the woman you want to cherish for the rest of your life.

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Destined to be Yours

18+

Bucky x Reader

I’ve had this idea for a while with this concept and I hope it turned out well. This starts off dark with abuse from Hydra and forced breeding but I promise it will be sweet and fluffy afterwards throughout and with a happy ending. Please let me know if you liked this!

Warnings: Angst, abuse from Hydra, forced breeding, pregnancy, so so much fluff, protective adorable Bucky, protective team, soft sweet smut

“Extract what we need” The doctor nodded to the nurse, injecting the asset with another sedative before the nurse laid out the vials, taking what she needed from the soldier as he laid unconscious. She worked quickly before he woke up, storing all the samples in a secure vault, dropping the temperature of the freezer to ensure they’d remain potent. His limp body was dragged off, locking him and chaining him in a cell, timing an hour before they would extract again.

And again.

“Sir, we have collected over 50 samples. 35 trails have been unsuccessful, the serum in the sample is too potent-

“THEN WE HAVE TO KEEP TRYING” The scientist boomed, his eyes wild while the doctor swallowed thickly, not arguing further. “The last of Zola’s serum was used on him. He is the perfect asset. Hundreds of kills. The world didn’t even know if he was real. A ghost. We don’t have another like him, keep extracting until his body can’t produce anymore”

The scientist paced around the room, mind reeling over how long it would take until they were successful. They’d managed to capture the solider once again but it’d only be a matter of time before earths mightiest scum came for him. He shook his head in disgust and fury, glaring at the timer.

“We finally got him back. We can’t loose him again”

“There is a new potential we can use” The head doctors eyes lingered to the cell of their latest captive; hopefully this one would be strong enough to bear the child of the winter soldier.

CELL 00

FEMALE, TRIAL #36

She blinked awake, confused about where she was, shivers running down her spine at the cold air that nipped her skin. She was barely able to focus her vision, left in nothing but her underwear; the last thing she remembered was feeling the jab of a needle to her neck.

Then darkness.

Now she was here.

Locked in a cell.

She went to rub her eyes, shocked to find her wrists bound in heavy shackles. She wanted to scream but sound wouldn’t come out, soundless cries ripping from her chest. The sound of whispers in a foreign language made her retreat to the back of her cell but it was pointless; where would she even go?

“Prepare her for incubation”

“What if it doesn’t work-

“THEN WE TRY AGAIN. Prepare her with the sample. We don’t have much time before they try to take him back”

The door of the cell slammed open; a man in a white lab coat stalking over to her with two nurses in tow. Before she could blink, another needle was plunged into her veins, the world around her going hazy and muffled as the shackles were unlocked. They fell to the ground with a clink as she was carried out, the world fading black again.

****

“Landing in 5, everyone suit up” Tony called out while Steve was already at the edge of the drop, waiting for the jet to open. Everyone joined by his side, jumping out as soon as the doors opened, landing softly on the snow covered roof.

“I’m getting a heat signal from the lower west wing” Sam looked at the feed from Red wing, joining Steve while Tony, Nat and Clint went to clear rest of the Hydra facility.

“Let us know when you have Barnes, explosives set to detonate in 10 minutes” Tony’s voice carried through the coms while Steve and Sam made their way through the maze like halls, each lit with flickering florescent lights. They reached the lab area, pushing through the doors and down to the cyro chambers and cells, to find Bucky lying down on a lab table, chains wrapped around his metal arm to keep him down.

“Bucky, hey pal” Steve shook Bucky awake, breathing a sigh of relief seeing the soldiers eyes flutter open.

“Steve?” Bucky blinked, looking up at his best friend hovering over him while he was still strapped to a table, a mild sedative dripping from an IV in his flesh arm.

“Wakey, wakey cyborg” Sam carefully removed the IV, collecting some to test in the lab for when they got back.

“Gotta say, didn’t expect deja vu like this” Steve cocked an eyebrow, remembering the last time he had found his friend in the exact same position after Hydra had first start to experiment on him.

“Shut up punk” Bucky snorted, groaning as he flexed his limbs before tearing himself away from his chains and following Steve and Sam out of the cell. The three men paused when they realized the cell beside Bucky’s wasn’t empty. You were laying in what appeared to be a flimsy hospital gown, also strapped to your bed with a few more machines attached to you.

“We can’t leave her” Bucky quietly stepped into your cell, his heart breaking over your fragile state. There was no way you had come to Hydra willingly and there was no way he was going to leave anyone behind if he had the chance to set them free.

Steve nodded while Bucky grabbed a blanket to cover you up, carrying you carefully in his arms. You hardly stirred as he carried you out and down the hall, meeting the rest of the team outside beside the jet, quickly getting inside before the base blew up.

“Are they dangerous?” Tony nodded in your direction while Bucky continued to cling onto you, a part of him always protective of anyone that had gone through Hydras torture.

“Don’t know” Bucky murmured, he truthfully had zero recollection of what had happened to him in the past month. He had been under constant sedatives and fed through tubes. Whenever he slipped into consciousness, his body would ache but he would have no idea why. He certainly had no idea who you were or why you had been captured. “Don’t even remember anything much myself”

“Guess we’ll find out” Nat shrugged, giving Bucky another blanket to cover you with when you shivered in his arms. As soon as the jet landed, the medical team was ready to whisk you away though Bucky was reluctant to let you go. He was about to argue when his own body started to give way to exhaustion; Steve and Sam caught him before his knees hit the floor.

“C’mon, we gotta get you looked over” Steve pushed Bucky onto one of the stretchers, letting another team sweep him away to the med bay while Sam took samples of whatever Bucky had pumped with to Tony’s lab.

You blinked in confusion at the new room you were in, the bed you were resting on far more comfortable than what you had been given in your cell. You were too scared to move, hearing the faint sound of beeping from the machines that were attached to you. The beeping grew faster as your heartrate picked up, struggling to calm yourself, fearing you’d be punished for panicking.

“Good morning” A soft voice spoke to you, your eyes hesitantly looking over to the man that entered the room with a warm smile on his face. He jotted some notes down, looking over your file once more. “I’m Dr. Banner, you can call me Bruce. I’m going to ask you a few questions, but don’t worry if you can’t remember right away. Are you able to recall anything from when they captured you?”

You shook your head while Bruce continued to carefully check over you, his touch caring and gentle, unlike what you had been previously subjected to.

“I-I don’t know what happened after they took me” You whispered, desperately wracking your brain, trying to piece together the foggy memories you had. “I’m sorry, I wish I could-

“It’s alright” Bruce pulled you own of the spiral you were about to head down, “Just relax, we’ll work through it. For now, let’s focus on making sure you’re okay. Get some rest and we’ll take this slow”

“I don’t want to over step, I can take care of myself, you don’t have to do all this-”

Bucky’s heart broke from where he stood outside of your room with Steve and Tony, none of them not wanting to overwhelm you with their presence when you’d just woken up. As soon as he was checked over, Bucky was out of his hospital bed and stationed outside your room, fidgeting with his fingers, occasionally peering inside. No one else would understand the fear you’d have like he did. He could barely remember what happened to him, he couldn't imagine the confusion you probably felt.

“I feel fine, I promise-

“You’re more than welcome to stay here until you’re better. You’re not 100% healed yet, its better for you to be here where we would actually be able to take care of you in case something comes up” Bruce insisted, helping you lay back down. You couldn’t get up even if you tried, too exhausted and sore to move, whispering a quiet thank you before quickly falling asleep again.

Bruce quietly added an extra sedative to keep you under, figuring you needed the rest and something to clam your anxiety while they gathered more information over who you were and what you’d been subjected to. He quietly closed the door behind him before making his way over to there the three men were waiting outside of your room.

“She doesn’t remember anything, which is normal, considering they probably kept her under the entire time they had her” Bruce flipped through your file as they made their way to the conference room; Bucky was reluctant to leave you alone again but he knew nothing much would happen while you were still asleep.

“From what we’ve gathered, Tin man over here was pumped up with enough sedatives and tranquillizers you’d usually use on something the size of a horse” Tony pulled up the lab results of Bucky’s blood work which revealed a large concoction of various drugs he’d been injected with. “So far, nothing as life altering as the serum but it looks like they were trying to experiment on him” Steve’s jaw clenched thinking about Bucky being subjected to more torture though Bucky himself was almost unfazed, not remembering much this time round.

“This is Y/n, Y/l/n” Tony pulled up a profile on you from what they had gathered, projecting it on the screen, “They captured her for about two months and she was also most likely under for most of the time. Major portions of their lab were already set to self-destruct so we couldn’t gather much on what they were trying to do. She’s just a civilian; wasn’t given the serum either. There's also no record of family as of now”

“Where do we go from here” Steve spoke up, feeling the tension radiating off his bestfriend who was itching to check up on you, metal fingers whirring. Even if everything seemed okay it never was.

Hydra always had a plan.

Always.

“The best we can do is let her recover here and keep track of her progress. There’s enough room anyway so it shouldn’t be a problem”

After being monitored for a few days, you were given the all clear to be discharged from the medical wing. Tony gave you your own room, granting access to anything in the compound without you asking. Though you were hesitant at first, Bruce encouraged you to treat the space like it was your home, cooking, reading or exercising, doing things that would help jog your memory and get you back into a normal routine. You trained frequently with Steve and Nat, rebuilding the strength you’d lost from spending so much time confined to a bed. Your time in the kitchen was always spent with Sam between endless recipes passed down from his family and new things he’d picked up along the way.

Then there was Bucky.

Bucky was quiet but the most protective of all. He was your safe space, the one person who understood the confusion, the violation, the trauma of what you went through.

He understood waking up in cold sweat, not knowing where you were.

He understood the long hot showers, scrubbing away remnants of their touch.

He understood the gnawing fear that if they got you once, they’d get you again.

It didn’t take long for you to grow closer to everyone. In a short amount of time, you were making significant progress, each person playing a role in nursing you back to health. Your check-ups always came back showing no signs of lasting damage or changes in your body; you were almost completely healed.

Everything was fine until it wasn’t.

You blinked, trying to shake away the spots that started to cloud your vision, figuring the training session was just a little more rigorous than usual but it was a routine you had done many times before without an issue. Steve waited for you to get back into your stance but your knees felt weak, the room suddenly feeling 100 degrees hotter.

“Y/n?”

“You okay?”

“Y/n!”

Steve saw your eyes roll back, darting out and catching you before you hit the floor, immediately sweeping you up and rushing you to the medical wing. Bucky was there in an instant as soon as Steve told him, both of them waiting nearby while you were rushed away to be checked over, still unresponsive. Bucky paced around the hall while you were hooked up to a few machines, samples of your blood drawn.

“What happened” You woke up in a daze, rubbing your eyes to get a better look at where you were as you laid on a hospital bed, still in your sweats. A woman who was scribbling notes off to the side of your bed gave you a soft smile, setting the pad down before speaking to you.

“You were training in the gym with Steve. Do you remember fainting?”

You shook your head, only remembering your workout last but it hadn’t occurred to you that you fainted.

“Is something wrong?” The beeps of your heart monitor started to quicken as your anxiety shot up, wondering if whatever Hydra had done to you was finally taking its full effect -

“Y/n, you’re pregnant” Dr. Cho rested her hand on top of yours, giving you a gentle squeeze seeing your disbelief, your pulse beating even faster.

Pregnant.

No.

“W-what?” You felt numb, you couldn’t remember anything from the time you were captured in hydra. How could you be pregnant, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been so close to anyone, let alone intimate with them. “I can’t be-” Your voice cracked, biting your lip to keep it from trembling, shaking your head. “N-no”

Pregnant.

No.

As soon as the team heard you were awake, they were by the door waiting to see you. Dr. Cho sat with you to process but it was pointless, the shock wasn’t going anywhere. She nodded to the team as she exited your room, allowing them to see you, letting you make the choice if you wanted to tell them or not. Steve was the first to walk in with Bucky trailing closely behind, everyone else hanging back, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“What’s wrong” Steve whispered, growing more worried when he saw your eyes start to redden, tears welling along your lashes. You wordlessly shook your head, your hands resting on your tummy, unable to get the words out. It took both men a second to piece together what had you so distraught, their mouths growing dry when they saw the image of an ultrasound still up on one of the machines, your hands trembling on top of your lower stomach.

“It’s okay sweetheart” Steve held you while Bucky's heart broke seeing your frame shake while you tried to hold in your sobs, tears streaming down your face, curling into a ball. You wanted to hide away from everyone, feeling sick and violated, having no idea how any of this happened.

“We’re here for you, it’ll be okay” Bucky sat on the other side of the bed, taking your hand in his, rubbing his cool metal fingers over your clenched knuckles. “Whatever you choose, we support you”

“I don’t - ” You choked out; still reeling over the words Dr. Cho had told you, certain abnormalities in the tests showing there wasn’t any other option for you.

You had to have the baby.

“I don’t understand” You whispered, curling into Bucky’s side while Steve left to let everyone else know what was going on. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “How-who-I haven’t even-”

When could this have happened?

Was this why you were taken?

Who was the father?

The last question burned the most, having no idea whose child you were carrying, your heart breaking over your baby never getting certain answers. How would you even answer if they ever asked?

“Shhhh” Bucky held you tighter, rocking you gently while you hid into his chest, wishing you could stay there forever, the one place you felt warm and safe. Tony entered the room a little while later, not bringing up anything directly but still letting you know you had his full support.

“There’s lots of room” Tony gave you a kiss on the top of your head before letting you go back to sleep. Bucky tucked you in before taking a seat in one of the chairs that was nearby, staying by your side that night until you were able to go back to your room again.

It wasn’t easy.

You weren’t sure if this was how normal pregnancies were but you were exhausted. Sick. Weak. The cramps you felt would make you double over in pain and you could hardly hold down a meal without throwing it back up the next hour. Just as before, everyone did their best to try and make everything a little easier but no one compared to Bucky.

Ever since he knew you were pregnant, he was out to do his best to make sure you were well taken care of. He didn’t know much about pregnancies or baby things in this decade but he’d do his research so you wouldn’t have to worry as much. Over the past few weeks, he was always ready with heating pads for cramps after he saw Wanda and Nat get them for you. He gave you some of his Henley’s after you commented over how you loved how soft the material was.

Bucky wasn’t just protective over you because of Hydra anymore. He adored how sweet you were. Your smile made him blush. You had gone through so much but you were always so patient and kind, even when you struggled to recall things or lacked rest from nightmares. You were the type of girl he would have taken dancing back in the day, if you ever gave him a chance.

The type of girl he would have chased after for a second date.

Then a third.

The girl he’d introduce to his ma.

If only things were different.

“How you holding up doll” Bucky came by your room with a cup of warm lemon water, the one thing that seemed to soothe the nausea. the smile on his face dropped when he saw your puffy eyes and teary face, softly sniffling, doing a poor job of hiding the fact that you had just been crying.

“What’s wrong” Bucky whispered, instantly by your side, setting the tea on the side table “Are you okay? Are you in pain doll, I can take you to the med bay-”

“I can’t do this” You whimpered, burying your face in your hands, trying to muffle your cries, “I don’t even know what I’m doing”

Bucky wrapped you up in his arms, rubbing his hand up and down your arms soothingly, “I can’t imagine what it’s like for you doll, do you need any of us to do anything for you? Just say the word, we’re all ready-”

“It’s not that. Everyone is wonderful but-I don’t want to burden them Bucky. It’s so much to deal with, I’m so scared of so many things, its too much” You trembled in his hold, a thousand fears coursing through you all at once.

“What scares you the most, doll” He whispered, holding you a little tighter to ground you, hoping he’d have the solution to at least one of your fears, if not all.

“I-I can’t do this alone” You broke down, terrified over the thought of going through the pregnancy by yourself. Yes you had the team by your side but not having a partner made your heart hurt. This wasn’t how you imagined having your first child. Having no idea who the father was or how any of this happened. Your body always felt like it was on the brink of collapsing and you felt awful that others had to dote on you even if they were more than happy to do so.

“You don’t have to do this alone” Bucky cupped your cheek to meet his eyes, not letting you look away when you tried to shake your head.

“James-” You were about to protest, but Bucky wasn’t going to let you doubt his words for a second, his arms pulling you into his lap and holding you securely.

“M’here” He stated softly but firmly, his hand still stroking your face, gently against your cheek.

“But-it’s too much, you don’t have to Bucky, I-”

“I’m here” His hand came down to your growing belly, soothing the flutters that pushed against your skin. “For as long as you need me to be, okay? You’re not alone. I got you” He pressed a firm reassuring kiss to your forehead while you melted into him, craving to be held and comforted, the scent of him soothing all your fears away for a little while.

Bucky saw sides of your pregnancy others never would. He held you during the nights where you couldn’t sleep. He rubbed soothing circles on your back when you felt sick, always getting you a fresh set of clothes afterwards. He cradled your belly when the baby kicked and moved around, his warm and cold hands soothing your aching muscles.

He was even there during intimate moments, where no words were spoken but he knew what you needed. He’d slip your bathrobe off half way to help rub lotion onto your back which was hard for you to reach, the bigger your tummy grew. You weren’t the most steady on your feet, so you’d keep his henley on when he stepped into the shower to help wash your hair and lather your thighs, never taking advantage of you or touching you inappropriately. He never made you feel self-conscious, even when bloated and huge, stretch marks decorating your skin, breasts growing heavier.

As you approached your due date, you found yourself changing bras and tshirts more frequently from how much you were leaking; your body already producing more milk than necessary. Bucky was there for you even then, never letting you feel embarrassed about the changes you body was going through.

Like that morning. You waddled to the kitchen to get some breakfast, too tried to change from the pj’s you had worn, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you searched for a mug.

“You alright sweets? Can I make you something” You didn’t even realize Bucky was already in the kitchen, instantly by your side, his eyes landing on your shirt first. “I’ll make you some tea and then we can get you changed” Your mind was still hazy, confused over why you had to change until-

“Oh my god” You wrapped your arm around your chest, your face feeling hot, wondering how you didn’t realize there were two very prominent dark patches on your shirt, hormones kicking into full gear, your eyes already watering.

“It’s okay, it’s normal, c’mon lets get you changed” Bucky kissed your forehead, slipping off his own shirt and pulling it over your arms before resting his hand at the small of your back to support you and take you to your room. He helped you change out of the dampened tshirt and into something thicker, grabbing some nursing pads to slip into your bra while you sat on the bed. He stayed outside of the room while you got changed and took you back down to make sure you were well fed.

You tried to remind yourself he was there to help you get through the next few weeks, nothing more, but each day, you fell more and more in love with him, your heart fluttering and breaking at the same time.

He was there for you because you needed someone.

Not because he wanted you or to be stuck with a baby that had nothing to do with him.

Bucky was struggling more than you, wishing he could tell you he wanted to be there for you even after the baby was born. He wanted to hold you through the night just to snuggle up with you, watch movies till the sun came up, dance with you in the kitchen, have his own little family he always dreamed of. It didn’t matter that the baby wasn’t his, he adored you and he was ready to love the baby you were bringing into the world-

But that wasn’t what you wanted from him.

You were going through something he couldn't even being to comprehend. He had to support you through this like he promised.

Even if he loved you more than you knew.

It had already been 2 hours. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You hissed, feeling another wave of pain pass through your body, each one worse than the last. You’d managed to not make a sound until the latest one made you whimper, tears starting to stream down your face. You sniffled, feeling Bucky's metal arm wrap around your belly, rubbing your baby bump up and down while holding you close to him.

“Shhh, I got you” Bucky’s voice was still deep with sleep, his brows furrowing when your body tensed, gripping at his hand when another contraction started. He held you until it passed before sitting up and moving to the side of the bed, kneeling so he was at eye level. “Sweets, I think we should head down to the medbay, I’m just going to get your bag, okay?”

He kissed your forehead, running to the closet to grab the duffle he packed, slinging it over his shoulder before helping you to your feet. He was not about to let you walk, carefully carrying you in his arms all the way down to Dr. Cho’s wing, making sure you were regulating your breathing as he walked over.

Once you were all settled in, the team made it down to the waiting area where Bucky was already anxiously waiting in your room by your side, carefully watching over your sleeping form, drowsy from medication you had been given. There was still a bit of time left before you had to push but he wasn’t going anywhere; he sat up when you stirred, placing his hand on top of yours.

“Hey doll” Bucky smiled softly as your eyes fluttered open, meeting his blue ones. “How you feeling” You could still feel a dull ache throbbing through your whole body, struggling to breath through the pain while a nurse checked on your blood pressure which was lower than normal.

“Not scared when you’re with me” You tried to sound brave, your voice coming out a whimper as another contraction radiated through you, unable to stop the pained cries.

“I’m here” Bucky reassured you, kissing the back of your hand while you squeezing, tears already streaming down your face. Dr. Cho checked on you once more while the beeping of your heart rate increased, fire like pain starting to consume you.

“She’s ready, going to start pushing soon, alright?” Everyone around you moved rapidly but it was all a dull buzz as you drowned in pain, struggling to focus.

“I can’t do it” You cried, feeling too tired, too weak, sweat covering your body.

“Hey, look at me, focus on me alright?” Bucky held your hand tighter, his metal one coming to rest on your forehead to cool you down. “Breathe doll, baby’s almost here, you’re doing so good mama, breathe with me” You tried to copy his breathing while the nurse signaled that it was time, the pain getting worse.

“You’re going to start pushing now, okay? You can do it” His voice grounding, not an inkling of fear showing through, keeping your eyes locked with his. You screamed in pain, using all your energy to push, only to feel resistance as if your body was giving up.

“Bucky I can’t-”

“C’mon babydoll, push, almost there, m’right here with you”

You cried out in pain again, squeezing his hand while he continued to hold you as best as he could, reassuring you and kissing your damp forehead.

“JAMES!” Your pained screams had the others worried; Steve paced up and down the hall while Tony stood outside the door. The only solace they had was that you were already in the best hands and Bucky was by your side.

“One more, look at me, just one more mama” Bucky’s voice cut through your muddled conscious, taking a deep breath before pushing again.

“Doing good y/n, one big push, that’s the head” Dr. Cho encouraged while you screamed out, mustering all of your strength to push, a piercing cry filling the room moments later.

“You did it sweetheart” Bucky let his metal hand come down to your beating heart as you slumped back down, panting while the baby was quickly whisked away to be checked on. He sat on the bed, kissing the top of your head, smiling when you refused to let go of his hand, his arm wrapping around your exhausted form.

“You did so good, so so good doll, so proud of you mama” He whispered, continuing to hold at kiss you while you tried to ground yourself again. You sat up as the doctor walked in, relieved there was nothing you had to worry about as she brought the little one over to you.

“That’s your baby” She smiled, carefully placing the tiny swaddled bundle in your arms, a perfect baby boy resting in your arms. “All 10 fingers, all 10 toes, healthy as ever”

You kissed his chubby face, cooing as he stirred, his tiny hand wrapping around your finger. Bucky petted your hair while you snuggled with the baby, his heart yearning to tell you how he felt. You rested against his side, both quietly admiring the little one that had now fallen asleep on your chest. There wasn’t a single dry eye in the room when everyone came to visit, everyone cooing and holding the baby, teasing about being God parents before leaving and letting you rest.

Bucky tucked you under the sheets when you yawned, insisting you sleep for a bit after the baby was put in the basinet beside you bed. He didn’t move from you side, his eyes often flicking up to the heart monitor that was attached to you, a few other machines attached to the little one just as a safety precaution to make sure everything was normal.

You stirred awake to the feeling of cool metal gently stroking your face, blinking up at protective Bucky, his eyes sullen from a lack of sleep, smiling down at you like you’d hung the moon and stars.

“Hey sweet girl”

“Hey” You leaned into his touch, softly kissing his palm while he cupped your face, brushing away a stray tear that slipped down your cheek. “Th-thank you” You whispered, swallowing the lump that tightened your throat, blinking away more tears when the baby stirred with a soft cry. You reached over and rocked him gently, looking over the delicate slope of his little nose and tiny pouty lips, your healthy baby in your arms because of him. “I couldn't have done all this without you. You were with me through everything” By my side through it all. I don’t want you to go.

Bucky swallowed thickly, his heart beating faster, he didn’t want to stop being there for you. He adored you with his whole heart, his breath hitching in his throat before speaking.

“Just so you know doll, I-I always wanna be here for you. For both of you” Bucky whispered, his eyes welling with tears at the little bundle cradled in your arms. He didn’t know the first thing about being a dad but he’d do his damn best to help you raise your son.

“Bucky?” Your eyes were wide, tears now freely flowing down your face, curling yourself up closer to him, wondering if you understood correctly. “Bucky, I don’t even know who the father is-”

“M’not worried about that. I care about you. I love you. If you let me” He cupped your cheek, brushing your face with his thumb, “I promise I’ll take care of you both. I’ll-I’ll do my best, I promise I’ll try, I’ll protect you-”

You cut him off, bringing him down for a sweet kiss, pressing your lips to his, your fingers toying with the soft short curls at the nape of his neck. Bucky smiled against your lips, letting his tongue lace with yours only for a moment, not wanting to tire you, pulling away when you started to pant.

“I love you” You were breathless, the beeping of your heart monitor nearly alerting the nurses, “I love you so much”

“I love you, sweetheart” Bucky stated sincerely, knowing you’d found your way to his heart a long time ago.

“Kiss me again” You tugged at his dog tags while he let out a soft chuckle, peppering your face with kisses before claiming your lips again.

“Get some rest mama” He carefully took the baby from you, settling him in the crook of his arm, while you closed your eyes knowing your little one was in the safest place he could possibly be. Your baby responded to Bucky’s voice the same way he did when he was in your belly, cooing and yawning, drifting off to a peaceful sleep, nuzzling into his chest.

“I’ll be there for you” Bucky whispered to the sweet bundle, softly rocking him so he wouldn’t stir. “Won’t ever leave you or your mama”

Tony gave you a new floor for yourself along with a mass of baby presents, everyone sharing quite smiles and glances when they helped Bucky move his things to the floor as well.

They’d all seen it coming.

You huffed at the full fridge, having no more room left to pump milk, your body producing bottles and bottles, your hungry baby drinking each one nearly every hour. You couldn’t understand how something so small could eat so much but he’d happily nurse and drink as much as you gave him. He was only 2 months old but already starting to babble and trying to crawl. You remembered the shocked faces of the nurses when they found your son rolling around in his bassinet, holding his head up without a struggle, eyes wide open. Steve was surprised when he had to use a bit of force to pull his finger away from his tiny grip. His features had also changed slightly; the light hair darkened into a chocolate brunettes. His initial darker brownish-grey eyes were now blue.

“I might be over thinking it but-he’s so strong” You chewed your lip, cradling your son while he nursed from you, his chubby thighs squirming while he gripped your breast, suckling. You were seated in Bucky’s lap with your back resting against his chest, his head on your shoulder, arms supporting yours “What if- there’s something making him develop so fast-

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what scared you the most but you didn’t need to say more. Bucky understood the anxieties you felt, the fears that came from being taken by Hydra and used as a puppet.

Hydra was capable of anything.

“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay, m’here alright?” He held you protectively, putting the little one to sleep after burping him and pulling you into his arms, “We’ll go to the lab in the morning, it’s gonna be okay”

Tony reassured you whatever they did wouldn’t hurt your little one. You were both given a mild sedative while Bruce took blood and DNA samples, running it through the systems while Bucky waited patiently though Sam and Steve could see he was nervous on the inside, constantly glancing over to you and peering over the baby bassinet. Two hours later, Bruce and Tony walked back in, glancing over at each other while Bucky shot out of his seat, nearly losing his balance if it wasn’t for Steve who was by his side to steady him.

“Is she okay? The baby?” His eyes were pleading with them, unable to read their expressions, something was off.

“We ran some tests” Bruce started off slowly, looking down at the file, “The baby is enhanced”

“What does that mean” Bucky’s heart started to race while Tony continued.

“Well...that could mean hydra experimented on her” but...”

“But?”

“But nothing came up for her. No experiments. It’s definitely her baby, Hydra didn’t implant someone elses embryo in her. So if the baby is enhanced, its from the father...he’s enhanced with the super soldier serum”

“I was the only super solider on that base” Bucky whispered, his eyes growing wide, looking at your sleeping form.

“Does that mean...?” Steve’s eyes were wide, looking between the baby and Bucky, smiling at the similarities that made sense now, your son, a spitting image of his father.

“The baby...the baby’s mine” Bucky was nearly breathless while Sam grasped his shoulder, helping to ground him.

“How do you know for sure”

“They only had one vial of the serum they used on me years ago. Never replicated it...that’s-that’s why they took me again”

“Blood test confirms it. It’s the same serum. DNA matched with what we have on file for Barnes.” Banner nodded, scrolling through the test results, “That’s Bucky’s baby”

Bucky felt 1000 emotions all at once, but nothing was stronger than the pure love he felt in that moment. He already loved your baby like his own but there was something comforting in knowing his son was safe, that there wouldn’t be any unexplained secrets he wouldn’t know the answer to. He cradled his son to his chest, kissing every inch of his face, while sitting by your bed, while you started to wake up.

“Doll?” He whispered, brushing your hair out of your face, his heart beating anxiously in his chest again, both excited and nervous to tell you. Of course you loved him but what if you didn’t like it, what if you were disappointed, what if

“What is it” You sat up, noting his worried face while Bucky glanced down at his son sleeping in his arms, sucking in a breath before speaking.

“M’the father” His voice was barely a whisper, tears streaming down his cheeks as soon as the words left his mouth. He was the father. That was his baby.

“What?”

“He’s mine” Bucky sniffled, giving you a sad broken smile, “M’sorry baby, they used you because of me-

“You’re sure?” You didn’t let him finish, only hearing the words he’s mine, repeat over and over again, not a single other thing mattered to you. “Please Bucky, this is our baby? He’s yours?”

“This is our baby” He nodded, his forehead pressed with yours before kissing you over and over again, cuddling his son closer to his chest.

“Our baby” You cried with him, reaching for the now missing box of tissues, looking up to see Sam hiding it behind his back while Steve quietly passed a tissue to Tony.

“Congratulations, babydaddy” Tony snorted into a tissue before leaving the lab with the rest of the group to give you some privacy. Bucky took his daddy duties very seriously, his heart always bursting when he held his chubby baby. It didn’t take long for the little one to turn into a tiny menace between his uncles, jumping and running before the age of one with custom high tech toys all around.

Bucky loved you even more with his entire being, watching you become the sweetest mama, nearly crying each time he saw you both cuddled up asleep or reading together in bed. He took care of you in every way possible, just as before, loving and worshipping every inch of you.

The only thing that had changed between you and Bucky was the growing need to be closer than ever. In the one way you hadn’t yet. Bucky didn’t pressure you once, waiting till you were ready for intimacy. He nursed your body back to health after you gave birth and continued to dote on you long after, with plenty of cuddles and kisses in between.

It didn’t stop him from letting his imagination run wild.

He wanted to touch you, take you apart and put you back together.

Make you feel good, moan for you, let you touch him in places only you could.

See you pregnant again-

Fuck.

He had no idea your imagination was 100 times wilder.

Dreaming of having his little babies.

How his naked body would feel.

How perfect he’d fit inside you.

Giving him all the kids he wanted.

“Did you ever think about having kids” You asked him curiously, slinking into his lap after a shower and curling up against his chest, toying with his dog tags.

“I have” He smiled, setting down the book he was reading, wrapping his arms around you instead “a lot actually”

“Did you think of having more than one?” You whispered, trying to press yourself impossibly closer to him, your cheeks growing warmer with what you were hinting at. “Maybe two?”

Bucky licked his lips at your words, letting his hand slip up your sheep shirt to brush over your tummy, humming when he felt your bare body underneath.

“You want another baby, doll?” He purred while you buried your face into his chest, nodding. Bucky pulled away just enough to slip off your shirt, moving you to lay down, quickly discarding his own clothes immediately after.

“Wanna do it the right way” He pressed gentle kisses down your neck to your shoulder, “Make love to you when we make our baby”

“Bucky, please” You pleaded with him, feeling empty, needing him so much closer. You didn’t care about foreplay or a slow build, you just wanted him inside, claiming you. “Wan’ another baby with you”

“M’gonna give you a baby sweetheart, don’t worry” He cooed, rubbing his cock through your soaked folds, before pressing it against your entrance. “Let’s make a baby, angel”

His thrusts were soft, slow and gentle, taking his time to savor the feeling of your under him, his lips trailing from your jaw to your neck, down to your swollen nipples. He sealed his lips around your peaked bud, sucking and toying with how sensitive they were.

“M’so lucky baby” He whispered before kissing your nipples again, “You feed our son so well, you’re such a good mama, y’know that?” You whimpered underneath him, your legs moving to wrap around his waist, tears prickling your eyes. “Best and prettiest mama to our baby boy” He kissed the tears that streamed down your cheeks, washing away any inklings of doubt that occasionally tried to rear its ugly head.

“You think I’m a good mom?”

“The best babygirl, wouldn’t have it any other way. Can’t believe I missed out on this once before, you feel so good” He tucked his face against your neck as he started to speed up, letting his body weight fall on you.

“Fuck-fuck Bucky!” You clawed at his back as he started roll his hips, kissing your cervix with his swollen tip, leaking and dripping in your needy cunt. “I-I love y-you”

“Shhhh, I know” He panted, groaning at the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock, your body clinging to him. “I love you, I love our little baby boy, m’gonna love the little one we’re making right now”

“Give it to me Jamie” You clenched around him making him whimper, fucking you harder, the base of his cock bouncing off your clit each time he thrusted in you. “I’m-gonna-gonna cum Bucky!, gimmie a baby”

“T-together doll, gonna cum with you, fuck, -oh fuck- Take it mama” Bucky moaned as he stilled, warm spurts of cum bursting from his cock, moaning louder when he felt you throb and milk his cock dry, your own orgasm crashing over you at the same time.

“M’in love with you sweets” Bucky stayed inside you, whispering sweet nothings while you stayed snuggled against his chest, loving the feeling of being full of him. “You gave me the best thing without knowing it”

“You’re the best thing that happened to me” You smiled, closing your eyes, quickly falling asleep in his arms, his lips pressed against your hairline. He didn’t move an inch, cradling you close; you’d given him everything he’d always dreamed of.

A family

Love.

Affection.

Even through the mess of Hydra, you brought light into his life.

You were destined to be his.

I may add a drabble about the second baby, lets see! Lmk what you think!

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