#captain hydra fic

[georgiapeach30513]

Mark My Territory

Summary: You evaded him. Again. This constant game was being played of him getting closer to you before you were ripped from his grasp. Again. He won’t miss this time you sly little fox. Your scent is etched in his brain more than anything else in the world. He won’t let his handlers stop him. He will have you. And he will make sure you stay put. You are his…

Pairings: Captain Hydra/Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: dark!explicit

Warnings:  dark, explicit language, explicit sexual content, non con/dub con, kidnapping, throwing, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.9K

Steve Rogers Masterlist

Captain’s dark blue eyes refocus as he removes his death glare of his next victim.  His fingers still cling to his neck, but they soften enough for a gurgling sound to emit from his disgusting throat.  Lifting his head fully up, the Captain gazes at his surroundings.  He felt it.  There was a shift.

“You fucking psycho,” the man in his grip screams, but the Captain squeezes as tight as he possibly can, cutting off all air to his lungs, before letting his lifeless body fall down to the pavement.  

Now he could focus.  Pulling his mask down, he takes a long sniff of air before his mouth turns up into an evil smirk, “Son of a bitch,” someone in the control center screams.  “He’s got that crazed look on his face.  He senses her.”

Popping his neck, he lifts his mask back up, and stalks down the road, while a team is sent in to retrieve him.  He was useless when he could feel you.  “Get someone in there now!” Nobody wanted to get in between you and the Captain.  There were always a few casualties.  A few soldiers were always lost.  Only one could ever get his focus away from you.

“He can’t find her.  We’re going to have to change her location again,” he takes a slow pause, seeing the Captain’s body cam.  “Too late,” he groans.

You stand up slowly out from under the table.  Trembling a bit, even if you had a feeling that he would never physically hurt you.  His height was vast and he was just as broad.  Terrifying and ways, and you weren’t sure what he wanted from you.  He always just stood there in front of you.  “Won’t you show me what you look like?�� He shakes his head no, but extends his hand towards you.

“I don’t know what you want,” he wiggles his fingers, grunting a bit.  “Are you wanting me to hold your hand?” One nod, and another grunt.  Gulping, you step closer, tickling your fingers against his, and a shift happens to his eyes.

“Do I know you?” His free hand starts to pull down his mask as men surround you.  Jerking you away from him, and he releases an animalistic scream, throwing men aside.  And when someone grabs you from behind, dragging you his yells become growls.  

Lifting up grown men to toss onto the road.  His eyes hardly ever leave you.  You feel pity for him.  He was wanting to protect you.  He didn’t want their hands on you.  “NO!” He screams as a hand covers your mouth.  “MINE!” 

That was a turn of events.  He felt ownership over you.  Why?  Why did he feel connected to you?  He always found you.  Marching over to one man, the Captain’s fingers circle his neck as he turns back to you and your captor.  The man raises his gun pointing it at your head, and the tiniest little whimper squeaks out of your throat.

“NO!” He screams, cracking that man’s neck like it was a toothpick.  “NO hurt!” Tears drift down your cheeks, wetting the man’s knuckles.  There was something about his eyes.  “No,” he wasn’t yelling anymore he was pleading.  “Mine.”

“Soldier, we can’t take a civilian.  You have to go back,” he shakes his head no, a choked mine whispers at the man.  “She stays.”

Stays?  An option to take you wasn’t on the table.  You weren’t going anywhere.  “You might as well let him keep his little pet.  How many more missions are we going to have where he senses her?” Someone speaks into the ear of your captor.  “What’s the worst that could happen?  Might work out for our benefit if he knows he gets to go home to that piece of ass.”

“Soldier, at ease,” the soldier shakes his head no, repeating that you were his.  “At ease.  Get in the truck.  She’s coming with us.”

“No!” You wail, but the soldier walks over to you.  Lifting you up to throw you on his shoulder.  “No!  Let me go.  I am not yours!” 

“Mine!” 

Hitting him felt like he was made of bricks.  Solid and thick.  He makes no sound of distress, just keeps walking.  You could practically feel his smirk as he struts to the truck.  “Let me go!  Put me down!”

“No,” gone is the anger.  It was lighthearted.  This was sick.  This is not the way you wanted to die.  Become a play toy for this psycho that was going to do unthinkable forms of torture to you.  

——

The Captain grunts as he walks through the doors of the compound.  He had one thing on his mind, and it had nothing to do with taking his gear off, and being checked over.  A doctor comes over to his side, but he pushes him away.  

“You need to be cleaned, Captain.”

“Mmm,” he growls, continuing to his new mission.  It's what he deserved.

“Oh, let him have his fun,” an older man steps into the light, smiling at him.  “Having that stupid girl here is making things run so smoothly.  Let him pound into her tight twat.  Maybe eventually he’ll literally split her in half and we won’t have to worry about it again.  No more distractions.  Go ahead, Captain.  Fuck your girl.”

He grunts again.  He didn’t fuck you.  He owned you.  He loved you, and he could think of nothing more than sinking into your warmth.  Could already feel your velvety walls cling tight to his aching cock.  Getting out of his suit was going to be a bitch.  But you were worth it.  

He opens the door to your shared cell, and you hurl a shoe at him.  He catches it.  He always does.  Popping his neck, he curls his finger towards you, pointing at his suit, “Go to hell.”

Rolling his eyes, the Captain starts to take his suit off, with much more difficulty than if you would just do it for him.  “Just go ahead and kill me, you fucking asshole.”

“No.”

“Say something more than no or mine.”

“No.”

“Fucking brain dead asshole,” he charges towards you, slamming your body up against the wall.  Using his thick thigh to spread your own apart, he slips his hands between them, rubbing over your panty clad mound.  

“Creep.”

“Mmm,” your body betrayed you every fucking time.  If only you could see his face.  You never got to see it.  Hydra had him muzzled up like the feral dog he was.  

“Ahh,” he squeaks, pushing aside your panties.  Pushing in two fingers.  Your body hates you.  Told on you every time with its loud squelching.  “Mine.”

“It’s my pussy, you weirdo,” he pumps into you harder, hearing you whimper, and grunts at your pleasure.  “It’s mine.”

“Mine!” Slipping in a third finger in makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, and he presses his palm against your bundle of nerves.  Driving into you with such force, you couldn’t argue.  He was playing unfairly.  Your pussy didn’t have a brain.  And right now, your own brain couldn’t think.

His arm pinning you to the wall, drifts up higher.  Adding pressure to your neck as your body starts to tingle.  Pushing you further and further into euphoria before he pulls out of you, and tosses you onto the bed.

“My god!  You fucking asshole!  Quit doing that shit.  If you’re going to make me wet, let me come.”

“Mine,” he growls, pulling off his suit into shreds.  That glorious cock bounces up once free, and you have a giant urge to bite it, and also lick off every morsel of precum.  He didn’t require your mouth.  He just wanted to edge you until you passed out.  You swore he finally let your body come once your eyes closed.

“Bet you don’t even know how to make me come,” the Captain chuckles under his mask.  Stomping over to the bed.  Reaching his hand towards you, his thick fingers grab onto your ankle.  Dragging your body down, he flips you over to your knees.  Trying to get away, he smacks you hard on the ass.  “Prove it then.”

He gives your weeping cunt a few slaps before driving into your warmth.  Giving you no time to adjust.  It was an assault on your mind more than anything.  You hated him.  Hated being used as a cocksleeve, but damn if he didn’t stretch you out in the most beautiful fucking way.

Your walls hug tight to him, begging for his touch, and sucking him back into your depths every time he pulls out.  Your pussy needed him, and you hated her for it.  Hated that you knew he was close to returning because she was already pooling slick into your panties.  

As if your crooked panties were keeping you too far away from him, he rips your off own clothes, and never misses a thrust.  Grabbing onto your hips, the Captain uses you to fuck him.  You hoped you had pushed him enough to let you come because you were right there.  You are tired of his games, and just needed relief.  

Whimpering out nonsensical words when he pulls out, and flips you on your back, “Told ya, you fucking pussy.  Don’t even know how to make a woman come.  You piece of shit.”

He rips your legs apart, pinning them on the bed beside your ears and stabs into you.  His whole weight on you made you feel even more magical.  You hated him, and your body.  Hated that he was doing this to you.  You were going to die in this cell with someone who didn’t even talk.  

“You.  Don’t.  Know.  How.  To.  Make.  A.  Woman.  Come,” each word was drug out with every push into your wet heat.  You feel your juices leak down your ass and onto the bed behind you.  It was cruel.  You just hope taunting him was enough.  “Claim my pussy then.”

“Mine!” He growls, pushing into you hard.  “Mine!  Mine!��� You start to see stars.  This was it.  He was finally going to let you come.  It felt like years of no real satisfaction.  Spewing your arousal everywhere, speaking in tongues as you clench your eyes closed, but he keeps going harder.

“Mine!  All mine!” That was a new word.  He was getting somewhere.  “All.  Mine.  MINE!” You couldn’t see, but you could hear the squeak in his voice as he comes undone.  Thick ropes of his cum paint your walls, and you finally feel like you're floating.  

His thrusts slow down, and ever so gently, you reach up to pull off his mask.  Life flashes before your eyes as you stutter.  Trying to find your words.  It couldn’t be.  He had changed, and still had this weird love for you, “Steve?” 

He blinks hard, staring blankly at your face before the softest, “Princess,” whispers off his lips.

“St-St-Steve?  Steve?  Is that really you?” 

“Okay, that’s enough, soldier,” a man walks into your cell, literally pulling Steve out of you, and you sit up crying and shaking your head.  “Erase him.”

“Erase?  No!  No!” 

“Discard the girl.” 

“No!  Mine,” a needle to his neck, makes his eyes close before he’s dragged out of the room.

“I hope you finally enjoyed your orgasm.  He won’t be seeing you again,” the doctor backs out of the cell, leaving you screaming and crying.  You still felt him on every inch of his body, still had his seed dripping out of you.  What was going on.

“You bastards!  You fucking bastards!  Steve!  Steve Rogers, I love you!”

A shadow steps out of the darkness, and raises his finger to his mouth, “Shh,” and then….

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @harrysthiccthighss 

[nix-sacrificium]

Burning Bridges - Nix-Sacrificium

Summary:

After the brawl on the highway-- Steve's been captured. Jack's watching him, and Brock's driving the van. Rollins makes a point.

[ Read it here ]

Info under cut <3

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con

Category: M/M

Fandom: Captain America (Chris Evans Movies)

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Jack Rollins, Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow

Additional Tags: Past Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Past Bucky Barnes/Brock Rumlow Brock Rumlow Needs a Hug Steve Rogers Needs a Hug Protective Brock Rumlow Hurt No Comfort no happy ending Post-Hydra in SHIELD Reveal (Marvel) Brock Rumlow Has a Bad Time Steve Rogers Has a Bad Time Jack Rollins Has a Good Time

Language: English Stats: Published: 2025-03-20 Words: 2,834 Chapters: 1/1

[parker-fangirl]

Prologue

Collection: Project: Energia Synopsis: Katherine meets the Winter Soldier. Warnings: Hydra, implied kidnapping Word count: 955 Read on Ao3 here! Read on Tumblr below!

⚡️🩵⚡️

Several men walked down to a special level of the base. A few buttons were pressed and with a hiss, the 'defrosting' process was started. The soldier would be awake in time for the girl to get here. 

The frost on the glass cleared and inside was a man with dark shoulder length hair and a metal arm. 

The Winter Soldier was active once more.

✮✮✮

The asset didn’t know when the girl had shown up at Hydra. Younger than ten, the girl was tiny and shy, scared. Words were spun into important conversation around him but his eyes were locked onto the girl. 

She was staring back at him, eyes drifting from his long hair to his metal arm to the firearms holstered at his hip. 

Agent Rumlow pushed the girl forward. She stumbled at the unexpected shove. The asset was to train her. She was to become a new assassin like him. If he failed, she’d be sent to the Red Room with it’s intense training. 

The asset took the mission. The objective was seared into his brain.

Training.

So when did it change to protection?

"иди сюда, кукла." The soldier spoke. His voice was deep, scratchy and it scared Katherine. She backed up against the door that had slammed shut as soon as she was through. The soldier took a few steps forward, towering over her for a few moments before kneeling down to her level. “You understand English, da?” 

Katherine nodded. The soldier held out his hand, the metal reflecting in the harsh lighting from above that both provided ample lighting and yet kept the room feeling dark. Katherine reached her hand out, hesitating barely a moment before putting her hand in his palm. Her’s was smaller than his. The cool metal was relaxing. The metal fingers closed loosely around her small hand. 

“Have you ever punched a punching bag before?” The soldier asked, standing and leading her to the long bag hanging from the ceiling. She shook her head no. “We’ll start with that then.” He let go of her hand, and motioned to the bag. “Hit it.”

She lightly punched, making a tiny indent but not moving the bag. 

“You have to hit it harder. Here,” He held up her hand and moved her fingers into a fist then moved her arm into the draw back position, explaining with each step. “Try again.”

This time, the bag swayed with her punch. She grinned at the accomplishment and looked at the soldier. He nodded, then told her to repeat the steps with her other arm. She did and the bag swayed again. He nodded again. He had her punch the bag again and again until it swayed much more than her first few attempts and her arms were sore.

A man dressed in black with a vest holding many pockets spoke to the soldier in a different language. The soldier nodded and then turned to Katherine. He held out his metal hand to her again and she held it as he led her down the maze of halls to a room.

It was close to the size of her room in Auntie May’s apartment. It had two beds, one on each side of the room. There was a tiny room on the adjacent wall that looked like a bathroom. But nothing else. The gray wall, dark gray sheets and pillows, cement floors. Nothing looked like home. When could she go home?

The soldier pointed to the bed on the right. She walked over and sat down on the edge. 

“Yours.” He confirmed, then pointed to the left bed, “Mine. Understand?”

Katherine nodded. The soldier nodded once and then sat down on his bed. The door shut heavily, the loud sound making Katherine jump and small gasp escape. The soldier was unfazed.

“Can you talk or do you prefer to stay silent?” The soldier asked after a moment of silence. Katherine looked down and picked at the hem of her shirt. Already, there were threats if she uttered a word on the drive here. “I won’t punish you for talking.”

She looked up at him, relief flooding through her. “You won’t?” Her voice was tiny, still not believing it. The soldier shook his head.

Katherine looked at the soldier, examining his features. His dark hair to his shoulders, short stubble along his jaw, piercing blue eyes that stared back at her. “Do you have a name?” she asked. The soldier looked surprised but quickly recovered, going back to his blank expression.

“Soldat.” He responded.

“Solthat? She tried to mimic but the accent threw her off. The soldier smiled slightly.

“Soldat.” He tried again, his pronunciation emphasized so it was easier for her. It took a few times going back and forth before her pronunciation was correct nearly every time. She smiled as she repeated it again, perfectly. He nodded.

“Do you have a name?” He asked, parroting her question.

“Katherine. But it’s too long. My family calls me Kat most of the time. My brother calls me Kit Kat sometimes.” She giggled at the nickname. It was her favorite but she’d never tell Peter that. 

“Kat.” The soldier - Soldat - said. She nodded. Unlike his name, hers was simple. “Like the animal? Kotenok?”

“Is that cat in your language?” Katherine asked, head tilted in curiosity.

“Russian.” The soldier explained.

“Will you teach me?” She asked, eyes alight with the possibility of learning a new language.

“Yes. But not now. Tomorrow. Sleep.” The soldier said, laying down and turning towards the wall. She smiled and laid on her own bed, arms tucked underneath the flat pillow for extra support. She stayed turned towards the soldier, closing her eyes. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

⚡️🩵⚡️

[rogerswifesblog]

Story idea!

@jamneuromain are working on a little story (it was mostly her amazing idea that we continued to vent about till it became a wip) but we need a title for it! We have come up with some ideas. And it’s up to you which will be the final title!

All you need to know about the story: enemies to lovers, misunderstandings, injuries and amnesia!

Okay, okay, here’s also the real summary:

This is not how you envisioned your day: Waking up at a hospital with a head injury, surrounded by strange people, and of course, you are desperate to go home.

Wait, where is your home? And more importantly, who are you??

Luckily, you have a dutiful (and handsome) fiance who expresses his regret and worry that you fell. On your head. Thus, all your memories are gone.

Amnesia is a bad thing, isn't it?

Too bad you didn’t remember you never had a fiancé.

Now to the titles

[buckysdollsworld]

The Adventures of Y/n Stark and Bucky Barnes Chapter three (Untitled) | Buckys Doll

Warnings: Medical equipment, Weapons, cursing, unsafe (forced) environment, (Forced) surgery, scars

Content: !8+ MDNI, Adult topics, Forced surgery

Pairings: ReaderxBuckyBarnes, Readerxkidnapper, Readerxex-boyfriend, ReaderxHydra

Word count: 982

Mentions: @baw1066

Link to full story (still in the works): https://www.wattpad.com/story/370679883?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=gothhasarusrex

A/n: Omg hi everyone!!!! I know it's been a while I have been super busy working on irl projects. I hope you will enjoy this chapter and hopefully, more consistent posts will happen!!! byeeeee!

You wake up laying on the floor handcuffed to a chain on the wall your vision not yet clear as your eyes flutter. Once your eyes are completely open you sit up and look slightly disoriented.

"Hi sleepyhead glad you finally decided to join us" Rowan grins 

"Us?" Rowan nods with that evil grin on his face. We had company, and suddenly, people in lab coats came forward. Instantly you back yourself up until you hit a wall you were afraid. 

"Rowan, please, let's talk about this." My voice shook despite my efforts to hide it, and its scared tone was as clear as the night sky.

"Sweetheart, it's too late for that now. Be a good girl and stay still." The people I assumed were doctors started to get closer, as did Rowan with his piercing grin. How could he be happy hurting someone he once claimed to love? I can't back away as much as I'd like. I looked at Rowan, the fear clear in my gaze. He walked closer, as did the others. He crouched down in front of me and reached into his pocket.

"Now, Y/n, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?" he asks, pulling out another vial from his pocket. It was another sedative of some kind. I looked at him. I was in no place to protest, so I held out my arms, knowing the next step. Rowan looks at me approvingly.

"Good girl" he praises pulling out the syringe pulling between his fingers poking the needle into the vial and bringing the drugs into the syringe. I remember now this is where my fear of needles came from, the pinch of the needle piercing my skin, the sharp sting of whatever Rowan decided to drug me up with.

"Just a pinch sweetheart" he always told me I felt sick my stomach churning forming more knots than before. I was too immersed in my thoughts to realize he had already stuck the needle in the drug coursing through my vein my thoughts started to disappear as my mind grew more foggy the sedative working fast and before I knew it my eyes fluttered shut. Rowan then takes the key to my restraints and unlocks it my body was limp and lifeless at that moment. He motions the doctors over to my lifeless body.

"Take her to the table strap her down make sure she can't move a muscle" he demanded Rowan Pierce was not the one to mess with especially when it came to his little experiments so they complied one of the male doctors picked my limp body up and throwing me across his shoulder the other doctors preparing for the surgery. I was laid down on the metal table my body held down by the safety straps. Who knows what Rowan was planning to do with me but the thing that was certain it wouldn't be good.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Bucky was pacing the hotel room, his mind racing with thoughts of you and what could be happening to you. Just then Bucky's phone buzzes, a text from an unknown number.

"Hey there, soldat. I heard you're looking for me...well, Y/N, don't worry. We're taking good care of her, see?" A picture of you strapped to a medical table is sent to his phone.

"Where is she? What are you doing to her?" Bucky's fingers tap on the phone screen quickly.

"She's safe. We're just getting her ready for her new home, even though I'd much rather keep her; she isn't mine."

Bucky was puzzled by the text's meaning: "New home." She was his girlfriend, not some piece of property. He was about to reply when Sam walked into the room.

"Who's that Buck?" Sam questioned but Bucky just slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Nobody important, now how are we going to save my girl"

"Don't worry we have a plan it just might not be easy"

"Well, what is it? We don't have much time"

"There's the auction in Madrippoor, she'll be there Selby will sell her off get her money's worth off your pet" Zemo cuts in from in the kitchen. Bucky's attention goes toward Zemo although he didn't have a fond expression on his face it was the familiar grumpy look he often had.

"Are you suggesting we buy my girlfriend back?" Bucky furrows his brows and Sam can sense Bucky's obvious disapproval so he speaks up.

"Look man I don't like the idea either but it's the only plan we have right now at least it's something" Sam places a hand on Bucky's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Sam knew Bucky was desperate to get Y/n back even though he'd never admit how upset and torn apart he was.

"When is it? The auction" Bucky sighed he knew it was all he had right now Sam was right at least we had some sort of plan.

"I'm not certain but I can find out" Zemo replies taking a sip of his Cherry Blossom tea.

"You don't even know?" Bucky huffs he is getting more annoyed and  impatient 

"Ok ok let's not fight guys let's just find out when the auction is" Sam replies quickly before Bucky and Zemo start fighting. "We'll find Y/n as long as we don't kill each other first. Now Zemo how do find out about this auction?"

"Well my friend I know a few people around I can get intel on where this auction is being held"

"Then let's go," Bucky says plainly already grabbing his jacket. Bucky was determined to find Y/n he would risk his own very life on it.

So off they went grabbing all of their weapons because you never know what will happen then the three men got in Zemos private jet and went to get the intel needed to save Y/n.

[bard-llama]

In Which HYDRA Discovers Their Missing Asset (A side story to Your Friendly Neighborhood Sniper)

Summary

Alexander Pierce has been looking forward to utilizing the Asset for months by the time the post-Chitauri Invasion clean up has progressed enough to allow him to return to the Manhattan base where the Winter Soldier is supposed to be stored on ice.

Read on AO3 here

[randomstuffandfandomstuff]

Prompt:

"Hero finds the normally bold, fearless Villian collapsed and badly wounded outside their door. "Please," Villian chokes out weakly, clinging to the shocked Hero's clothing with bloody, shaking hands. "Please, help me. Capture me, arrest me, I don't care. Just protect me from them.""

Hero: Steve Rogers/Captain America

‘Villian’ : Bucky Barnes / winter soldier

Words: 3,058

[evansbby]

Captain hydra???

What does that mean 😭😭😭

[nix-sacrificium]

You cannot be writing THOSE TAGS for Steve/Rollins and leave me with all this to plague my thoughts! I am spiralling!

I am simply a messenger for the brainrot ✨

I think the tags describe my thoughts pretty well, though, without banging out some 300billion-word-fic 🤔

It really just boils down to- HYDRA!Steve would hate Brock’s guts, especially if you squeeze out the fact that Rumlow’s been mistreated his Asset for years. And all the handwave stuff with SHIELD and how Brock treats Cap before the big reveal— Yeah, wouldn’t be a fan.

Feel like he’d want someone more… Intense, but serious? Or someone where their interests align better and I see H!Cap’s and Jack’s interests align

But Asset!Steve, fuck, that’s a whole ‘nother level of heartbreak for me. Imagine : They don’t straight off kill Steve during Insight, maybe he never makes it out of the van. Jack was ready and willing to but the man down in the street like a mutt, but Brock stopped him. Not here, he said. Except he wasn’t planning on offing Steve at all— Yeah, the other two. But not Rogers.

Because, hear him out. The world’s gonna be plunged into chaos and unrest— They need a little bit of…. Not hope.. But it would be some kind of leverage to have Steve paraded around surrounded by STRIKE Commander Rumlow and the rest of his team to show the world that HYDRA has Captain Fucking America on their side. Brock just wanted Steve back.

Except Brock’s soft on him— Too soft. This wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

The conditioning isn’t taking the way it should.

So Rumlow is stripped of the Captain’s handler status, he’s benched. He was always so so good at handling the Asset and they need him alive too because it seems to be one of the only things that calms Steve down— Knowing Bucky is… ‘safe’. Alive? Not tortured?

So Jack takes over— official / unofficial STRIKE Commander Rollins and he wields that man like a rocket launcher. If the Asset was a gun, the Captain’s a bomb.

Context :

[16woodsequ]

For the WIP title game-- the Captain and the Asset?

Ooh, this is an interesting story. I'm glad you asked about that! (From this wip game)

This is a fic idea based on my realisation that when the STRIKE team attacks Steve in the elevator they aren't trying to use lethal force. They're trying to capture him.

Immediately I was like 'what if that worked?!' So in this fic, Steve is captured by Hydra in CA:WS and Hydra basically wins and takes over America with their Helicarriers. Steve gets turned into an Asset like Bucky and periodically have confrontations with the ragtag Avengers.

The main focus of the story though is when Steve and Bucky get convinced to escape Hydra and take cover with the underground Avengers. Both of them have to be taught how to be human and trust again and it's heart-wrenching for everyone involved. Basically 'The Alternate Handler' times two for anyone familiar with that story.

I haven't written much of it because I'm still figuring out the plot and scenes I want, but I'll post a snippet here and try to add a few lines in honour of this ask game!

Snippet:

Pierce sighs. “When I gave orders to capture you, some suggested I simply have you killed,” he tells him, a dark amusement lighting up his eyes. “I’ll admit that may have been the simpler option but…” his hand pauses on his hair. “…a matched set would be such a good face for the organisation.” Steve’s glare intensifies. His headache is a little too strong for him to be impressed by Pierce’s theatrics and his voice comes out blunt and flat. “A what?” Pierce’s grin turns shark-like. “Of course,” he says easily, standing upright. “You haven’t met. At least, not officially.” He turns towards the front of the room, where Steve can’t see.  “Asset,” Pierce calls, “to me.” The sound of a new set of footsteps reaches Steve's ears and a shadow falls over him as a new man steps into the light.  Steve’s breath stalls. “Bucky?”

[unseededtoast]

Rectify | Bucky Barnes

Part 4/37 | Part Three, Part Five

Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.

Bucky Barnes x OC

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

"I know who you are."

Out of a dead silence, chaos. Tony stands from the table and starts yelling at me, claiming I'm a spy and only here to end the Avengers. The rest of the people try to calm him down, but he's relentless. I sit quietly, knowing I deserve everything he's saying even if it isn't true. If the roles were reversed I can't say as if I'd react any differently. The redhead woman finally escorts him out of the room, leaving Fury, Bruce, Steve, and myself.

"I'm sorry, Adalyn, he's not usually like this. I'm gonna go check on him." Bruce excuses himself from the room, and I give him a small nod of acknowledgement. Fury is the next one to speak up.

"Well, the dirty laundry has been aired. Tony will come around kid nobody here is completely innocent." He gets up and leaves the room. I look to Steve, his arms are crossed and he's staring at me intensely, jaw set firmly.

"I grew up with Bucky, he was my best friend. I was there when he fell from the train. I know that's not him doing these things, and I know the real Bucky is in there somewhere. Sometimes good people do bad things, sometimes they don't have a choice. And if you're the one who designed whatever is in his mind right now, you know it better than anyone else." His voice is soft and tender, sincere. I don't know everything about Bucky's history, and I definitely would not have expected his childhood best friend to be Captain America. I can see from the look in his eyes that Steve wants nothing more than to have his friend back.

"I appreciate you giving me a chance to correct my wrongdoing, even if nobody else here will. I give you my word that I will do whatever I can to get him back. It's been my biggest and only regret of my life, what I did to him." I retain eye contact with him, showing my sincerity as well. The situation is shocking to me, there's a lot to process, but I feel inclined to promise this to Steve. He stands from his seat and motions for me to follow him.

We walk out of the door and are met by Fury, who joins us. The two walk ahead of me, taking much quicker strides than I'm used to. I feel like a toddler trying to keep up with Olympic sprinters, and the exhaustion from the day doesn't make it any easier. We get into an elevator, and head to a lower level. There are barely any people on this level and it's darker as well in terms of both color and lighting. There are reinforced steel doors along the walls, telling me they keep some unsavory things, or people, down here.

Fury unlocks one of the doors and allows Steve and myself to step in before he shuts it behind him. We're in a small hallway, with glass on one side, allowing us to see what's being kept in the room. I see a big glass container in the center of the room, with the Winter Soldier strapped in the chair. I'm unable to tear my eyes away, it's as if my feet have been welded to the floor. I haven't seen him in five years, but have thought about him every day during those years.

I notice that he looks worse than he did when I left, my heart breaks for him. What a poor, tortured soul. I've missed him so much. My eyes sting with tears and a lone drop streams down my face. Steve stands next to me, arms crossed once again with a hard look on his face.

"He's been here for about two weeks now. Nobody's been able to get near him safely so we had to sedate him. Bruce and Tony are trying to figure out how to undo what Hydra put in his mind." Steve explains as I continue to study the Soldier. I never expected to see him again, it's all surreal.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm more shocked to see him or more shocked to learn that Hydra was able to use him in my absence. I still am not quite sure how they figured it out, but that answer will have to wait for another day.

"I can. I can be around him safely." I simply state, breaking my stare to look at Steve. He sighs and looks back to his best friend in the other room.

"We can worry about that tomorrow, it's been a long day." Fury says and ushers us out of the room.

A wave of exhaustion rolls over me, and I agree with the Director. Bright and early tomorrow is when I'll start reversing what I did many years ago under Hydra command. I can use tonight to brainstorm some ideas and get a head start. Steve and I end up going to the same hallway. He opens the door across the hall and bids me a goodnight, and I return the sentiment.

The morning rolls around quicker than I would've liked. I get up and check the dresser drawers, not having anything to wear except the clothes I came in, which have small blood spatter stains. Shield confiscated what I had brought, they're probably going through everything with careful detail.

Thankfully, there are uniforms in the drawers, all identical to one another. The top is dark blue and long sleeved, it clings to my arms though I wish it was a little looser. The pants fit the same way, just a little too tight for comfort. There's a knock at the door, and I go to answer it.

"Good morning, I thought we could get a head start on the day." Steve smiles slightly. I return his smile and nod,

"That's exactly what I was hoping to do." I shut the door once I'm in the hallway and follow Steve back down to the basement. As we're walking, he decides to fill the silence with small talk,

"I still can't believe this is happening. What are the odds that you would be here after we found him. Some of the others, they think this isn't a coincidence that this is happening at the same time we found Hydra spies and they're skeptical of you, but I have to put my trust into you. For Bucky." I sigh, knowing it was no coincidence either.

"Well, it really isn't a coincidence. Hydra was obviously in the area on some mission and spying on Shield, plus they had found where I was hiding. Lucky for them we just so happened to be in the same area. I had to kill a man to get here, they tried to take me back to Siberia. I killed him in my kitchen and ran." I admit, hoping that this oversharing wasn't going to damage Steve's newfound trust in me. He didn't skip a beat,

"You had to do it. Like I said yesterday, sometimes good people do bad things, sometimes they have no choice. I've killed people before, we all have here, some more than others." He says, and though the statement should've made me uneasy, it brings some comfort knowing he doesn't think any less of me just like I don't think less of him.

I'm grateful that both Steve and Bruce have been welcoming to me, and hopefully in time the others see me for who I am, not for what I was forced to do. We reach the glass hallway again, and the Soldier is just as he was last night. Nervousness courses through me, I'm not entirely sure how he's going to react seeing me, if he even remembers who I am.

"Can we take him off sedation?" I ask and Steve nods, messing with some levers built into the wall. I'm hoping he has permission to do this, but I don't ask questions for fear of delaying this encounter.

Due to the serum running through his veins, the Soldier wakes up rather quickly. After giving him a few moments to wake up and take in his surroundings, I reach for the handle and give Steve a short nod before going into the room.

His eyes are locked on me from the second I enter the room. Like a lion watching a gazelle. I approach the glass container he's being kept in, anger and confusion both etched into his face.

"I'm not here to hurt you." I say in a soft voice. His expression doesn't falter.

I stand right in front of him. I feel sadness and guilt wash over me once again, but I suppress these feelings, I know I can't appear weak in front of him. I begin assessing his condition, and it isn't good. His hair is tangled, there are deep dark circles around his eyes. He's lost weight since the last time I saw him. I know from his physical appearance that his mental wellbeing has also likely gotten worse. Nobody has been taking care of him, it's obvious.

If he's been contained here for two weeks without being placed in cryogenesis or having the programming reset, it's likely he's dealing with a lot of random resurfacing memories from his time as Bucky and also the Soldier. The programming was designed to be intense for short periods of time, over time it grows weaker and he begins coming out of the fog. He was never supposed to be out for more than a week at a time.

The experience is probably frightening for him, I can't imagine the feeling of loneliness and helplessness he may be facing. He's probably confused about what's happening and there's been nobody to help him. At least I'm here now, hopefully I can alleviate some of his suffering.

"My name is Adalyn, I am here to -"

"I know who you are." He cuts me off, his voice deep and gravelly. I freeze in place, not anticipating him to say anything.

"I am here to help you, I am not going to hurt you." I say, keeping my voice delicate and soft, yet sincere. He stays silent, I know he doesn't believe me. I lick my lips and try to keep my voice from wavering,

"I am going to undo everything that's been done." I say, and against my strongest efforts, feel tears begin to well in my lower lash line and a lump form in my throat.

His expression is still hard as stone, and I turn away to leave knowing I can't fight back the tears. This is all too much too quickly and the gravity of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I get back into the hallway and the tears run free. Steve stands, unsure of what to do as I wipe my eyes, looking into the room where the Soldier sits bound against his will. Through tears and a shaky voice, I look to Steve,

"I need to go to the lab, can you take me?" I ask and he silently nods and returns the levers on the wall to where they originally were, putting Bucky back under sedation. Steve leads me to the lab where I met Bruce yesterday in silence, probably replaying everything he just saw. I'm usually good at hiding my emotions but my entire life has just been turned upside down in the matter of two days and I haven't had time to really process what's happening, it still doesn't feel entirely real to me.

As I step into the lab I see Bruce, along with Tony. The grad student isn't anywhere to be seen. I thank Steve for taking me and he walks away quietly.

"Good morning Adalyn, is everything okay?" Bruce asks, walking up to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. I nod knowing it's apparent I was just crying,

"Things will be okay, I just need to get to work." We walk over to the tables and Tony disregards my presence. They're still looking at the microscope slides, the same ones from yesterday. I would offer to explain things to Tony, but I have a feeling he doesn't want to hear anything from me.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Bruce asks and I nod my head.

"Yeah actually. I had a book that I brought with me. I'm going to need that." Bruce nods and I hear Tony scoff,

"Of course, I'll be right back." Bruce says and leaves the room, now it's just Tony and myself. I can tell from his body language that he's less than thrilled to have me here.

"I know you don't trust me and that's fine, I probably wouldn't trust me either if it were the other way around. But I'm telling you I know this better than anyone on Earth. I'm only here to help." I say, trying to break some of the tension and clear my name of being an alleged Hydra spy. He stops what he's doing and stares at me with an eyebrow raised.

"You just expect me to trust your word? You may have the rest of them fooled but I'll believe it when I see it." He stares, waiting for my reaction.

"That's alright with me." I smile at him, which probably made him more mad than anything else. He squints his eyes and tilts his head,

"If you so much as try to sabotage anything or anyone in here, I promise you will never see the light of day again. These are my people, this is my work. I will not have either jeopardized." I brush off the threat and sigh, I don't think I'm going to get through to him, not yet at least.

"I understand you think I'm a spy, that's reasonable considering recent circumstances. I'm here to fix my mistakes, right my wrongs. If you can't accept that, that's not on me but I made a promise I intend to keep." I say. Tony goes back to looking at the slides without saying another word. Bruce walks back in, with my book in hand.

"It took some serious convincing to get this thing." Bruce hands it to me, and I take the red leather in my hands. I flip through the pages, it looks untouched though I know they probably made a copy somewhere. I know for a fact I took detailed notes about how I designed the program, it's just a matter of reverse engineering it. I think it's possible, it might just take some time to figure out.

"Can I get some paper and a pen?" I ask and Bruce hands the supplies to me, watching what I'm doing. I rewrite in English the steps I took to install the programming within the mind. I show the paper to Bruce,

"These are the steps I took to suppress memories, I think I can reverse the effects." I softly smile and watch him read over the paper,

"How can you reverse this? I'm not even sure what exactly it is." He admits.

"The Winter Soldier never had his memories erased, they were just buried very, very deep within his brain. Over time with no intervention it's highly likely they'll resurface on their own. When they resurface it's possible that his pre-serum memories will be entangled with his memories as the Soldier, and that's less than ideal. My plan is to reverse engineer the programming to remove it completely from his brain, or at least figure out a way that makes the trigger sequence obsolete. Doing that removes the threat of the Winter Soldier making a reappearance, but I'm not quite sure where to start just yet. In the meantime, I will use therapeutic techniques to guide him through the resurfacing process the best that I can because there's no way I can stop that." I explain quickly, giving them the SparkNotes version of what I'm envisioning and thinking. Bruce has a hand on his chin as he processes what I just said.

"So you're saying that even if memories get suppressed, it's possible to get them back?" I nod,

"Yes, I believe in his case there is a good chance of his memories resurfacing just based on the way the programming is designed. Though some of the memories may take longer to come back than others. I'm not entirely sure of the long-term effects this is going to have on him, but I think there's hope." I say, feeling a tinge of hopefulness for the first time in a very, very long time.

[ktficworld]

I love when writers incorporate concepts of their own. I wanna know what happened to Steve and sam, where is sam?

Warm Shadows - Let All Light Go (2/4)

Collection: Warm Shadows Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Steve x f!Omega!Reader, existing Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader Word Count: 7.5k Summary: Now that he's claimed you, Captain Hydra takes you back to his new base of operations, his little omega bait for the Soldat. But the bond between an alpha and an omega is a powerful thing that shouldn't be trifled with. [sequel to When You Fall On Me Like Night]

Content Warnings: DARK, a/b/o dynamics, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT/omega heat, oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, breast play, vaginal intercourse

Logistical Notes: We've got a dose of pride for @nickfowlerrr's Seven Deadly Sins + Seven Holy Virtues writing event. Now this second part is too late for the Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon, but I had most of it written before the challenge closed, and so I had plucked another dialogue prompt from her list, so I still want to give @witchywithwhiskey credit where it's due, and you'll find the prompt in bold and italics when it appears.

Additional Notes: I had no intention of making this three times as long as the original, but Steve had other plans. So many other plans. Thanks to @biteofcherry for letting me suss out a couple of the things I had questions on plot-wise. Title from Hozier's De Selby (Part 2).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Steve doesn’t smile anymore. He hasn’t smiled in weeks. And yet the frown on his face is more than the non-smile stoicism that had taken over his demeanor since the ambush outside of Turin. He exhales deeply, washing away the frown as he straps your limp body into the jump seat of the stealth jet. Unconscious and sedated, your head falls forward though your torso is held back by the chest harness of the safety belt. Steve angles your head back against the headrest because if you got a crick in your neck, it will be a problem he doesn’t want to hear you try and complain about later.

He had achieved his objective in coming to Wakanda. Though the operation had played out with slight differences from what he had anticipated, it had gone as close as he could have logically projected in almost every aspect. He knew Bucky. No. The Winter soldier, he corrects. And he knew you. As players in this piece of the plan, you had both been reliably predictable.

As a super soldier Steve knew the strengths, the weaknesses, the limitations, and what Barnes would be susceptible to. That’s why he had been so prepared in laying his trap and incapacitating the asset.

Overpowering you had been easy.

Claiming you had split a slow but building tremor to his system. It had changed what he’d intended to do.

A few hours later as he approaches the remote Hydra base, that disconcerting feeling in his brain that he is working to tamp down still smolders with something unsettled that makes him flick his eyes up to the mirror that allows the pilot to check the interior behind him to see that you’re still in the same state of sedation.

His new conditioning will help him to control this irritating itch.

After touching down and rolling into the hangar, Steve unbuckles you from the seat and slings your unconscious body over his shoulder. He doesn’t stop walking but proceeds to give his brief mission report to the ranking officer on base who was waiting to meet him at the base of the small jet’s cargo ramp as he exits. This man is not his handler but his liaison for the time being. He’s competent enough that Steve if rarely frustrated with him. The power dynamics are something Steve is constantly aware of. Hydra wants to know they are in control and yet learned with the Winter Soldier that an asset stripped of complete autonomy was more inflexible to work with – and impossible to pull back when he broke free. They don’t want to make the same mistake with him, but they give him no illusion over who his allegiance is to now. It’s not a leash, but an unmistakable tether that they will let him tenuously control as long as he ultimately complies.

It's why he has tolerable and private living quarters where he deposits you on top the large bed. He leaves a bottle of water next to you and then leaves. The door to his quarters is controlled by a fingerprint recognition, allowing Steve a fair amount of control over who can come in and out, and he has no intention of giving you access.

He goes to the mess to get food. No one approaches him while he eats. He collects two of the meal boxes that are ready to go – one marked for lunch, one marked for dinner – and brings them back for you.

You’re still asleep when he returns. He takes the time to order routine meal delivery to his quarters for you long term as well as a supply of standard issue clothes and laundry service. This base is a hub for research and development, so the standard of living is functional and minimalistic, which suits him fine, and that is all you will require as his omega.

It's mid afternoon before you finally wake, and he can sense the moment you resume consciousness – his heightened senses heard the change in your breathing, but there’s also an innate sense about it. He wasn’t expecting that.

He shifts slightly where he sits in a boxy armchair reading over some new intelligence reports on his tablet to watch you. You slowly sit up causing the water bottle he set on the mattress next to you to roll against your body, and you frown, then look around and see him almost immediately. Fear and anger show immediately in your face, exactly as he expected.

“Your food is on the counter,” he says flatly.

“I don’t want it.”

“You will,” he responds.

You look away from him, scan the single-room quarters, and then look down to the water bottle again. He hears your small sigh before you pick it up, unscrew the top to take a few sips, then close it and shift to one side of the bed and lay back down, curling up, facing away from him. There’s an east-facing window on that side of the room.

None of this behavior is unexpected, and it’s of no matter to him. He has you here, he’s keeping you here as long as necessary. You’re hurt, you will hold onto your pride at the offense for a long while yet, and he expects it. He’s not offended. It will wear away.

He has a few projects he planned to touch base with various research and development teams on the base, and so now that he knows you’re alert and fine, he has no problem resuming his operations and routines.

The single declaration over the food is all you say to him for the first few days.

Not that he is there much either. He has missions, projects, agendas – his own and Hydra’s, and certainly doesn’t exist to coddle his omega.

An omega, he reminds himself.

There is only one bed, and he doesn’t say one word about it to you. The first night when he returns, you are curled in on yourself on the edge of the bed much as you had been earlier when he left (though he notes you had eaten the roll from the dinner box, so you had moved at some point). He wordlessly changes into his sleepwear and slides beneath the sheets. He figures if it bothers you enough, you can choose to sleep on the small couch or the floor, but he isn’t going to give up the bed to accommodate you.

On the third day, you rise when he does. The small bathroom is the only private part of the living quarters, so he is closed off from you while he showers, but as he eats breakfast and finishes the rest of his morning routine, you sit in the armchair, legs curled up, and watch him with a cool storm in your eyes.

When he returns on the fourth night, you smell different. You wear the same clothes, but you’ve clearly showered, and you must have done what you could to clean your clothes in the sink because you're wearing them and not the base-issued garments. You’re already curled up on your side of the bed, still on top of the bedding, barefoot, but not sleeping yet.

Your state of unrest is burdening his thoughts. It’s an imposition he can’t have.

The way you bleed into his consciousness was the only thing he had stupidly forgotten to even account for in this maneuver to draw out the Soldat. Part of it was because he hadn’t been entirely sure he could successfully make the claiming bond – he knew he could get the bite, but it had been a gamble on whether it would work.

It had.

Though it hadn’t been like a clap of lightning but more like an invisible string threaded between the two of you. He had used it to manipulate the situation that night, but the reality of it had also shifted what his original plan for you had been.

Having never bonded with an omega, he had heard varying reports of how the connections could develop between an alpha and an omega. Some said it was strong enough to reach a degree of non-verbal communication, but this seemed to be developing as more of a constant, pressing awareness as the string wove further through him as the days passed, but an awareness that he was learning to read and decipher.

That cool storm that brewed in your eyes any of the few times you looked at him had to be tamed. He didn’t expect it to go away, but he could not have the rage brewing, growing, and pulsing from you to him. He can’t afford the distraction.

In an operations meeting one of the analysts sits down to the table with two unnecessary books in the stack of things they’ve brought with them, and he remembers that you loved to read.

He deposits a linen tote bag with a stack of books on your bedside table that night, returning after you’re already asleep.

He leaves for a mission across the globe before you wake the next morning.

When he returns three days later, it’s mid-afternoon, and he goes to his quarters after the mission debriefing. You’re sitting almost comfortably on the couch with one of the books. You still regard him with cold, guarded eyes, but you’re wearing the base-issued clothing. It’s plain, utilitarian, slate grey.

He remains with you the rest of the evening, the two of you eating dinner together at the small table in one corner of the room when meals are delivered. You don’t look at him, and he doesn’t watch you too much. He thought he had been focused on the mission. He thinks now the focus had come easily again because you were less angry, an icy ache rather than the rampant and enflamed rage that was only further agitated without anything to do.

The next day is unremarkable with this new development. You read, you wear different clothes from the base again, and he is back to his standard on-base routine, returning to his quarters after dinner but before dark. It’s the same the day after, and then the day after that. The only thing that changes at the end of one more day, is that once you’re settled to sleep and he slides into bed a quarter of an hour later, he’s about to drop off to sleep when he hears you take a deep breath.

His own heart stills. What are you about to do?

“Can I have normal clothes?” you ask softly.

One request could lead to another request, and another.

But if they’re as simple as this, easy enough to appease, he could say yes until he needs to refuse you something he’s not willing to entertain.

“I’ll see it done.”

“Oh,” your response is small, surprised.

“Now sleep,” he says, not a command.

Mid-morning he has a break between consultations, and he pulls one of the base caretakers aside and charges them with accommodating your request.

He returns to you before dinner that night. He simply finished his work earlier than usual that day, it’s nothing more than that. You’re in jeans and a lightweight crewneck sweatshirt. Eating dinner is another quiet affair, but the easiest it’s been out of the few times you’ve shared any meals in this place.

Over the next week he eats breakfast with you and most of his dinners. There’s a sadness that’s growing, but he is also melting the glacier of your guarded hostility.

While eating dinner one evening, you ask, “Where are we?”

“A Hydra research and development facility.”

You give it another moment, and then you press further, “And where’s this facility located?”

He looks up at you across the table and gives a dark, wry smirk. “Europe.” His tone is clipped. He can see you know that’s the end of the information he’s going to give you on the matter.

“How are your books?” he ventures after a few minutes. He had gone to the bookshop in the town to purchase a second stock of books for you earlier in the week.

“I appreciate them,” you answer. Without looking back up at him, you say, “The old you liked to read.”

He glowers at you, but he can see there’s almost a warmth in your eyes. It does something to him, so he drops his eyes back to his plate.

He stands abruptly and takes his plate to the counter by the sink, then he leaves. He won’t entertain that line of conversation with you. He paces through the facility for an hour before he returns. When he sees you seem to have been waiting for him, there’s a small warmth in his chest. You just nod at him, and he nods in return. No more words are exchanged between you that night.

When you both finally retire to bed, he doesn’t say a word or give any sign of reacting to you pulling the covers back on your side of the bed for the first time in this space and climbing into them, he simply does the same on his side. You still stay rigidly still and curled up, nearly on the edge of the mattress, but it’s more than he ever expected from you. The nights following, you maintain this step forward in proximity.

He notices your hand going to your bonding mark from Bucky over the following days, and it happens more and more frequently. He almost says something, but as he scrutinizes your actions, he sees you do it without seeming to think about it. It bothers him, but when he sees it’s not intentional, it’s not jealousy or rage that eats at him, it’s something else.

Because why hasn’t the Soldat come for you yet?

That was the object of the game, after all.

He was sure he hadn’t underestimated the Soldat’s skills or Bucky’s devotion to you. Bucky had, in fact, been spotted close enough in the region that the whole base had been on red alert for three days, certain the Winter Soldier would strike, but he hadn’t. Then the reports were he’d gone further north and left Italy altogether, so the alert had gone down from red to orange, and now sat at yellow - standard caution and operating procedures.

It was bothering him further because you were supposed to be Bucky’s beloved omega. How could he abandon you this long? Work so carelessly? Soldat should be desperate and raising hell at this point.

Because at this point?

It’s why Steve decides to embark on one more mission. He doesn’t tell you where he is going. He didn’t tell you even that he is going. He could already feel your unease growing, the questions and uncertainty. He doesn’t need his omega further agitated.

His mission is quick and successful.

As he returns, there is a sudden spike of fear and adrenaline when he is about an hour out from the base. It burns through his system, and he hasn’t felt any emotions overpower him this strongly in weeks and weeks, but after less than a minute it’s snuffs out almost as quickly as it had flared.

Twenty minutes from landing, a call buzzes in over his comms.

“Captain, our base has been attacked, but we are clear from intruders and in active recovery mode now,” his liaison’s voice relays.

“Intruders?” he growls.

“Full report forthcoming and will be ready by the time you arrive. You are cleared for landing but divert to the machine storage facility rather than our standard hangar, we’ve sustained damage there. End communication.”

Steve slams his fist against the arm rest of the seat – the place he knew could sustain the brunt of his impatience – and it breaks off, smashed away completely.

His landing approach gives him a view of the obvious devastation to the base, the entire northwest quadrant still in flames, but with crews working quickly to extinguish the fire.

His liaison is waiting in a truck to drive from the storage on the outskirts back to the main base.

“Twenty-two casualties, six injured, two hundred on evacuation disbursement orders. Only beta essential personnel and the damage control teams remain, prime essential personnel were evacuated as soon as the intruder was reported.”

Steve frowns. “Identity?”

“Confirmed as the Soldat.”

Steve nods. “You said intruders when you contacted me on approach.”

“We’ve since confirmed it was the Winter Soldier and only him.”

He nods again. That news wasn’t surprising. Had he known I would be gone? He was certainly cutting it close, waiting until almost the eleventh hour to come for his omega.

“Status of the omega?”

“We sedated and moved the omega to our facility outside of Geneva.”

Steve’s entire chest seizes in rage – not only moving his omega without consulting him, but to sedate her without any thought? It doesn’t matter that it’s standard protocol for prisoners, you’re his omega. However, every alarm in his head rings immediately that he can not show any ripple of emotion or he may very well never see his omega again. He won’t make the same mistake again – not for a third time.

“Geneva will be the next center of operations for current projects?” he asks.

“Correct. Early calculations project that this base can be functional again in four to five months, and we’ll evaluate whether projects will move back, or continue in Geneva and other bases in the region and clear the way for new initiatives here. We thought you would want to see evidence and damages yourself here first, which is why I didn’t redirect you once we had entered the first recovery stages after clearing all immediate threats, Captain.”

“The logical call,” he agrees.

Four and a half hours later, he touches down in Geneva, but it’s another two hours before he can escape all the protocol and regrouping strategy conversations. Within ten minutes after that, he’s in the new living quarters assigned to him on the Swiss base.

And there you are. Haphazardly deposited on the bed, but there all the same. He lets out a breath as he closes the door behind him. It locks automatically. He drops his pack on the couch and then makes his way to you. He rights your body, laying you fully across the bed and straightening your limbs. He removes your shoes and tucks a pillow beneath your head. He could smell you immediately on entering the quarters, but handling your body now confirms you’re dangerously close to breaking into your heat a day earlier than you were supposed to. He has no doubt it’s due to the distress of the day. That spike of fear and adrenaline he felt earlier had to have been you moments before you were sedated for transport.

He examines your neck, but sees no evidence of an injection, which leaves sedation by inhalation. In a situation where they needed efficiency and couldn’t chance a miscalculation of precision, it was the logical move. It also narrows things down to one of two compounds currently in use for inhaled sedation, which he appreciates.

Then he sees the bloom of a bruise forming already on your arm just above the elbow, and his brow furrows. He will review the footage and he will find out who did this to you.

Satisfied in general over your state – even breathing and no other visible injuries – he turns his attention to the new living quarters. It’s still a studio set up, but moderately larger than the Turin facility. There he’d been assigned quarters for an individual, and this is clearly one of the units designed for Hydra personnel with a partner. A marked difference here is an area that is sectioned off as a study with a desk and a bookshelf. There are already some books there, but empty shelves that can be filled as well.

There’s a decently sized case on the table in the kitchenette area. Inside is a selection of personal effects transported here from Turin, likely collected after the initial evacuation of personnel, but delivered here in those first two hours while he was in the strategy meetings upon arrival. There are a few items of his clothing, a modest selection of the wardrobe he’d arranged for you, toiletries, and even your small accumulation of books.

He has just finished unpacking the case when he can sense you stirring on the bed. A moment later he feels the spike of unease and tension as you register the new surroundings, sitting up on the bed, but he’s already approaching you.

He can feel the diminution of your nerves when your eyes land on him, but he sees the initial wave of relief in your eyes that you also try and stamp away in an instant.

He sits cautiously but with no apology on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Where are we?”

“A new facility.”

Your eyes study him for a moment. He knows you’re assessing that his answer means he won’t give you details. “Still in Europe?”

He nods.

“How long since the former facility was compromised?” you ask.

He smirks. You were always intelligent – not that it would have been difficult to figure out, but he’s proud of how quickly your mind works.

You huff at his hesitation and roll your eyes. “If you think I’ll use the information to try and figure out where we might be, I don’t know where we started, so it won’t be of any use to me, I’m just hungry and want to know how much time I’ve lost.”

“It’s been somewhere between seven to eight hours.”

He reaches for his communications tablet and quickly orders a standard meal for each of you to be delivered as he hasn’t eaten much either.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” you break the silence again. “Bucky found me.”

He hadn’t planned to tell you, but he won’t lie to you. “Yes”

“He’ll find me again. He said that wherever I went, he would find me.”

“Oh, I know.” His stare is back on you. “That’s the entire point. I need the Soldat.”

The silence that builds between you two is full of anger on your side. There’s nothing else for him to explain, but he’s curious to see how long you’ll keep this moment stretching on before ending it or saying something else.

But it grows more and more uncomfortable, and you try not to fidget. You’ve never been one to fidget, and certainly not over these past few weeks at any point around him. Then he notices the beads of perspiration gathering on your brow.

“Your heat, Omega.”

“My heat, not yours.”

“Sure,” he laughs cruelly. He reaches out to touch your cheek, somewhat patronizingly.

“Don’t touch me!” you snarl and snap your jaws at him, causing him to withdraw his hand immediately. “I don’t need you.”

“Fine.” He stands and retreats, not because he fears you in the slightest, but because he won’t fight your petulance, not when he has better things he can do at least for now. “Face your heat alone, Omega.”

He leaves, hearing you let out another impatient huff just as the door closes behind him.

He leaves you in pursuit of one of the data analysis rooms. If you’re going to be difficult and refuse him, he can do better things with his time until you’re ready to bend and keen for him. Once there, he logs into the system and pulls up the footage from Turin. He watches every frame of the Winter Soldier’s attack on the facility. It was shown earlier when he was meeting with the Hydra officers in debriefing the attack, but now he can study it alone in its entirety, moving from camera to camera outside, and then through each hallway and room without commentary from anyone else, able to slow down and rewind each moment as he sees fit.

It’s masterful.

And he looks directly at cameras after many of the kills. Twenty-two casualties and only six injuries? That’s intentional. He knows the Soldat could have executed this more quietly, and that’s evident in how he exits when he realizes you’ve been moved. From that point, his exit strategy has him engaging with almost no one, but setting fires and explosions, leaving enough damage in his wake to send his message.

It’s effective.

Steve narrows the block of time from the incident on the base and watches additional footage from the same ten-minute period. It’s every frame of the footage related to your acquisition, sedation, and transport from the base. He is interested in discovering just how the Soldat knew when to retreat, and he leaves notes in his log and in addition to drafting and sending a memo with some of his theories and observations to his primary liaison and a few of the officers on the taskforce. But his primary objective was to figure out who handled you so roughly, and he does. They will be dealt with later. He can’t expose such a personally driven need to deal out punishment.

While he’s been gone he’s felt the tenor of your emotions tugging at him – not tugging insistently, and with how tightly you’ve tried to control and suppress your emotions over the past few weeks, this must mean you’re battling to keep things at bay, pushed beneath the surface. As soon as he enters, he clocks the spiking fluctuations of your hormones. Since returning with you from Wakanda, he’s read extensively over the heat cycles, and this situation gives all the signs that you’re vacillating precaiously between falling into either a standard heat or a dry heat. You’re trying to stave off the heat as long as possible, but it will come, and if you fight it too hard, it will be a dry heat, which will be physically and mentally painful for you and difficult for him to navigate with you. He needs to edge you carefully from that tipping point of the dry heat.

You’re sitting at the table, having polished off one of the meals already and eating the last bits of the other one. It looks like they were boxes with sandwiches, fruit, and vegetables. You’ve left the celery from both servings. He smirks, but he’s glad you’ve eaten. That’s a good sign.

In another attempt at normalcy, desperate to keep things at bay, you push the chair out across the table from you with your foot, nodding for him to sit. You try and engage him in completely normal lines of conversation. He knows what you’re doing. He’ll entertain it for at least a little while so he can assess more of your state and how he should handle it.

He’s more concerned with watching you than listening to what you’re saying. You stand to refill your cup with water, and he follows you to the sink. He reaches into the cupboard and gets a glass of his own, encroaching somewhat into your space very casually. It doesn’t put you on edge, so he eases even closer, as you continue to talk. He puts a hand on your shoulder and leans in to fill his cup with the tap. There’s a slight hitch in your breathing at his proximity. He pushes the teasing of his closeness even more, moving his hand down your arm and resting it on the counter next to yours.

“I know what you need, Omega,” he whispers against the shell of your ear.

He can feel you do everything you can to remain still.

But then you turn your head ever so slightly toward him. “The last time you touched me, you humiliated me.” Your voice is flat.

He doesn’t respond, but he also doesn’t move.

Finally, you ask, “What did they do to you?” your voice barely above a whisper.

The dangerous question comes out of nowhere, and the surge of emotion it evokes in him is immediate. He growls, whipping away, not even thinking before he slams his fists on the table. It splits in two clean pieces. He grabs one before it even falls to the floor and throws it against the wall, smashing it, splinters flying.

He turns back, advancing on you, and you’re already trembling. He doesn’t relent, forcing you up against the wall, caging you in. He pounds his fist into the wall right above your head, and you close your eyes, afraid to move. He can smell the fear in your scent now, but there can be no confusion here.

“No, Omega,” he speaks low, and his other hand moves lightning fast to grip your chin. He can feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers. “Look at me.” You open your eyes. “We aren’t doing that.”

He leaves a beat of silence between you.

“Do you understand?”

You nod.

He drops your chin, then grips the neck of your shirt and yanks, ripping the fabric down the front and jerking you forward, making you bump into his chest. He picks you up and hauls you across the room with a few furious strides to drop you onto one of the armchairs.

You right yourself in the seat as he steps back, but only an arm’s length away. He doesn’t have to use his alpha voice or say the words. He knows the look he gives you communicates his instruction: stay put, don’t move.

He slowly undresses, unfastening, unbuckling, unzipping. He places each article of his dark tactical suit in an orderly pile on the coffee table. It’s purposeful, this tactic. The onset of your heat is only a moment away. You’ve been doing everything in your power to stave it off. Part of him clocks this enormous show of strength and sees it for more than stubbornness, recognizing the discipline and power within you. But this has gone on long enough, he needs you to finally tumble over the edge, and he will push you if he must.

He watches you watching him as he reveals each expanse of naked flesh – arms and torso, legs, and finally his loins when he slips off his boxer briefs. He’s hard for you, of course he is, the pheromones have been flooding out of you, and he wasn’t tempted to touch you in Turin, but now it’s all he can think about. He wants your body supple and pliant, submissive beneath him. He stands above you, looming, imposing – he knows he is, and he wants you to feel that he can do this – and pumps his cock slowly with his own fist.

He does it a few more times, watching you watch him. He sees the small ripple of a shudder you can’t suppress when your breath hitches.

“Undress,” he commands.

Your jaw ticks up. He knows you don’t like it – he felt it the first time he gave you an alpha command, and he hasn’t again until this moment. You look down as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra and slide it off, dropping it to the floor. You stubbornly refuse to meet his eye since he’s making you do this – he knows it. You hook your thumbs into your waistband, and you push your leggings and underwear down in a slight huff.

“Spread your legs,” he issues another command.

You do, still refusing to meet his eye. Part of it is the irritation over the commands, but he knows part of it is also the trepidation still pulsing through you. He doesn’t want to make this easy for you, but he doesn’t want you to suffer the agony of a dry heat where you’ll be agitated, devoid of slick, in pain, and distressed.

He sinks to his knees between your parted thighs, but now you can’t help but look at him staking his claim there so close to your exposed core. He can see you have a million questions in your eyes, it’s the most you’ve allowed him to glimpse of you – the real you – these past weeks.

He lowers his head, keeping his eyes on yours, and licks a slow, broad stripe from the side of your knee along the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He can feel you tense and hold your breath. And he stops inches from your warm cunt, pulling back and kneeling back on his heels.

You whimper.

He knows he has you now.

“Touch yourself, Omega,” he doles out the third command. He knows how he wants this to play out.

“Don’t make me,” you plead, but your hands are already slowly moving to your center.

“Do it,” he barks, and you flinch.

There’s a little bit of slick between your pussy lips, and he watches you trace a finger slowly over your folds, up and down. You drop your head down and to the side, refusing once more to look at him.

“Omega, have you ever experienced the pain of a dry heat?”

You huff.

“Is that what you want?”

“I want him!” you blurt, and you certainly must not have meant to say it out loud because your hands immediately fly to cover your mouth and your eyes flash to him in fear. And anger. Both are there.

He growls and surges forward to claim your clit between his lips, clamping his hands at the juncture of your thighs to keep your legs open. He sucks hard and flicks his tongue angrily over the little bundle of nerves, drawing a cry from you immediately. Your hands push at his head, but there’s no match for his strength, and he holds your pelvis firmly to his face.

“No, no, no,” you murmur, starting to cry.

He keeps up the furious sucking and flicking, and it’s less than a minute before he feels your whole body seize up, frozen as the first orgasm crashes down on you. Slick begins to seep out in abundance, and he hums in approval, but he doesn’t relent, only changes his tactics. He flattens his tongue and laps at your cunt, letting his tongue slip between your folds and into your hole every two or three licks. It’s less frenzied, but no less insistent, and he rips a second orgasm from you easily. He hums in approval as this time that blissful wave forces you to throw your head and shoulders back, and you land against the back of the armchair, clutching at the rim of it next to your head.

But he won’t relent yet.

He reaches up to cup one of your breasts in his hand, and you moan and push your chest forward for him, head still thrown back, and he imagines your eyes must be shut. He squeezes your breast, then tweaks your nipple, and your breath hitches. He presses his mouth back to your folds and works his lips over your puffy, engorged clit, working slowly this time. He draws his hand away from your breast, and then he slides the fingers that just tweaked your nipple into your tight heat. He pumps slowly, and your hand moves to the back of his head, applying insistent pressure there. He crooks the fingers and strokes along your front wall, and he knows he finds the spot of your undoing when your legs abruptly shift, the left lengthening out, and your right hitching up over his shoulder to press into his back. He doesn’t change a thing now, sucking, pressing. He knows you’re on your way, but he will not hasten this. He wants you to feel every drawn out moment of this – some but not enough of what you need.

Paying attention to every breath above him, every movement of your body, and especially the way your muscles start to squeeze around the fingers he has inside you, he stops just short of your third orgasm.

You whine in protest, but he pushes himself up to stand above you. He grabs your waist and hauls you easily with his preternatural strength up and over his shoulder. You claw at his back, but it’s only a few quick steps for him to be able to throw you down onto the bed.

Your fear from his outburst is long gone, and the face you turn up at him is angry, and you snarl, quickly kneeling up on the bed.

He grasps your chin in his slick-covered hand and looks into your face. “You will beg for me, and only then will I consider whether or not I will touch you again or let you suffer.”

He drops your chin and is already turning away, but you’re lightning fast in reaching for his wrist.

He stops and only inclines his head part of the way to look back at you.

“Take me,” you plead, voice stronger than he expected.

He furrows his brow.

“Please,” you implore.

He turns fully back to you. Perhaps he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. You’d always been adaptable and clever, and rarely stubborn to your own detriment. You had been stubbornly trying to hold the heat at bay, dangerously so to tempt the dry heat, but he knows this is an extreme circumstance for you, and with the tide turned yet again, he was almost impressed that you had so quickly determined it was worth it to take what you needed.

“Then present,” he says simply.

You turn, moving up to the middle of the bed, but close to the headboard, and kneel on all fours.

He climbs up behind you.

You drop down to your elbows, subjecting yourself to him, omega to alpha.

He takes his cock in his hand and rubs the angry red tip up and down your slick folds. You whimper, and he sees the small shiver that runs down your spine. He sinks his thick length into your tight heat, and you both groan as he fills you for the first time. He doesn’t move once his hips are finally flush against your ass. He breathes in and out, in and out, and watches your measured breaths as well.

He did not know it would be like this.

He reaches forward, grips your shoulder, and pulls you up and back towards him. Your hands move to reach out to steady yourself on the headboard. He presses his fingers into that juncture at your neck where he claimed you, and you keen, throwing your head back. He leans forward and while his right hand stays anchored at your hip, his left strokes that bite again, then moves to hold the front of your neck as he leans down and forward over you. You look up at him, he looks down at you. “You’re fucking mine, Omega,” he growls, your eyes locked.

“Yes, Alpha.”

Then he feels you rock your hips back against his. He smooths his hand down your neck, then presses his lips to your forehead. “You’re mine,” he says again, imprinting the words against your skin.

Then he pulls back and thrusts into you. A few thrusts like that, but as you begin to keen for him, begging for more, he has to drop back and grip your hips with both hands to fuck you. You both come twice – once quickly, and once more very slowly – before you’re boneless beneath him, and he forces you down to the mattress, shifting you to your side and drawing you up against his chest. You whine, but he strokes your arm and promises he’ll give you more once you sleep.

While you sleep in his arms, sticky and sweaty, his mind goes to work.  

It’s not long before you wake again, and you two truly fuck, carnal bleeding with a few moments that are too tender for either of you to acknowledge. But his stamina outmatches yours and he has you exhausted and sleeping again before long.

He’s never taken care of an omega in heat before, and it’s all-consuming, but he stays focused. When you’re awake, he plies your body with pleasure until you cry, keen, moan, scream aloud and silently, and it goes on and off again between sex and sleep all through the day. He’s prepared for your reluctance during the first high phase of the heat to eat or drink anything, but he slips you bits of fruit and nuts as he can, gets you to greedily gulp water only after he pushes it your way insistently. You want his cock, not hydration or nutrition.

A little before midnight the second night, you stretch and yawn waking from another of your short sleeps, and then you roll out of bed and pad to the bathroom. He’s been rooting through some of the cupboards, taking stock of what’s there, and he finishes quickly and follows you into the bathroom after he hears you flush the toilet and then turn on the showerhead. You’re slipping into the shower when he enters the bathroom, and he’s there in time for you to give the silent invitation for him to join you – the expectation, even.

You’re still in heat, but craving a shower lets him know you’ll have enough of your mind back for what needs to happen now.

Things are tenuous, but there’s no denying that this heat has changed things for both of you. He claimed you in Wakanda, but the two of you have bonded through the first thirty hours of this heat in ways neither of you thought possible.

He takes the lathered-up sponge you place in his hands, and he washes your body carefully. Then you take it back, soap it up again, and run it over his skin with the same kind of attention.

He washes your hair, you rinse away the suds, and then he pulls you flush against him. You take his hardening cock in your hand and pump shamelessly. He groans appreciatively, than pushes your back up against the tiles, moves your hands away, and pulls your leg up around his waist so he can enter you. You clutch at his shoulders for stability and moan. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, but he speaks just loud enough for you to hear, “This is the only place I’m sure no one will hear us, but they also need to have no reason to question what’s happening if they’re monitoring.” He moves his hips back and then pumps slowly into you again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you moan, “more, Alpha.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly, though he knows you can’t see it. He tongues his bite at your neck, and you whimper. He gives you another thrust, and you keen.

“I won’t have you anywhere near these Hydra personnel anymore. I don’t trust them.”

The surprised noise that escapes your throat is slightly distressed, and so he speeds up his thrusts a little. “My heat,” you whisper.

“The heat cycle is the only time no one expects me to be anywhere or respond to anyone unless there’s complete catastrophe, and I already reported the onset of your heat last night. They won’t disturb us for a few more days, and they will not expect us to attempt to leave our quarters let alone the facility. If we can manage to get out unnoticed, we will have enough of a head start on time to lose them completely.”

You remain quiet.

“Omega?”

“And go where?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

You push his face away from your neck and push at his chest. “I’m still nothing more than your bait?”

He growls and turns you around so your chest and face are pressed up against the wall.

“I’m still your alpha, and yes my end game is still to draw out the Soldat.”

“Why?”

“I need him.”

He nudges your legs apart and enters you from behind, and you groan as he fills you.

He pulls back, about to enter you again, but then you turn your head, and gasp, “Wait,” in a tone that’s different enough that he does, brow furrowing as he meets your eyes.

“Omega?”

“Tell me what happened to Sam, to you, and I promise I’ll go with you willingly.”

He didn’t think you knew Sam had been with him.

You reach for his head and urge him back to the cradle of your neck.

With more than your words and the gentle action, you’re also entreating him through the bond, he can feel it. It’s powerful. And so he tells you. It only takes him two sentences to tell you what you need to know. Tears stream down your face, and he fucks you then, the fucking he needs for him, not you, but you allow him to take.

go immediately to part three: Carving Through the Dark

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

read more from the Dark Forest Fest

[psychologeek]

I think that in the environment and all that's happening, this fic from 2015 os still accurate.

As we keep seeing jews worldwide accused of being Nazis (???), and the spread of hate, and the international day of holocaust remembrance.

I think this fic gives an important view for non-jews. A mirror, one may say.

No Accounting for Heroes

By: Lady_Blackhawk, RedGold

Summary:

When S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, the loss of life was devastating, but what of the agents left behind? Rani Feldman is a Forensic Accountant who survived the fall of the Triskelion. Cleared by the FBI, Rani is left to pick up the pieces of her life. Unfortunately, the Jewish accountant is unable to get a job as everyone keeps accusing her of being HYDRA. With her life falling apart around her, she discovers she’s not alone. Thousands of former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents have been left homeless, penniless, and without adequate healthcare. Rani can’t help them all, she might not even be able to help a few, and should she even try?

“This isn’t a story of superheroes and magic. This is a story of how I survived a world of superheroes and magic.”

[marvelstoriesepic]

❀ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ❀

Last updated: March 17

I’m only writing for Bucky Barnes

Lots of love for my Bucky people! ♡

I do not consent my work to getting republished

My work can include heavy themes (such as sexual assault, abuse, panic attacks, death, toxic behavior, self-doubt etc). Each chapter and fic will have their own warnings, but if anything might trigger you, be cautious!

If you are interested in reading the Bucky fics I loved on this app, check out my list of fic recommendations on my other blog @buckbuckbarnesstuff

If you'd like to support my work, here is my ko-fi ♡ (this is entirely optional, please don’t feel pressured)

˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔ October Writing Challenges 2024 ˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔

⋆⁺₊❅. Whumpcember Masterlist 2024 ⋆⁺₊❅.

WIP Game / new WIP Game

♡ - personal fav

❁ - fic with 300+ notes

✯ - fic with 500+ notes

☘︎ - fic with 1000+ notes

Series ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Breaking Chains (on hiatus)

Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: Leaving behind an abusive and possessive boyfriend, and finding refuge in the hometown you once yearned to escape, certainly wasn’t a chapter you anticipated in your life’s story. Yet, eyes as blue as the sky at dusk, belonging to a mysterious biker drew you into a world of unexpected possibilities, where a job at his bar becomes more than just a means of survival - it’s a pathway to freedom and self-discovery. Though, breaking away from your past proves daunting when shackled by invisible chains.

Like a Phoenix (completed) [92.2k] ✯

Mercenary!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Summary: An attack on your palace thrusts your only hope for survival into the hands of a mercenary who is forced to protect you, all due to a vow he made many years before. Though, those are circumstances neither of you have chosen.

Two-Parts ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

1. Tangled ropes [8.2k] & 2. Beyond the Horizon

Sailor!Bucky x reader

Summary: A new sailor arrives at the docks amongst Captain Barton’s crew. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, the way he carries himself, or perhaps it’s the way his eyes are the echo of the ocean in color and depth. But something about him makes you want to untangle the ropes that seem to choke his spirit.

1. The ropes that bind me [13.4k] & 2. Bridge to your world

Fisherman!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Being a creature of the sea, you are bound to a life beyond the surface, always in sight of the human realm, yet forever out of grasp. But after centuries of this finned existence it’s a fisherman coming to the docks day after day that compels you to bridge the gap between your worlds, despite the warnings about humanity being ingrained into your kind your whole life. Will you meet the same tragic end as several of your sisters before?

One-shots ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Listen to your gut [2.8k] ✯

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky is assigned on a Hydra mission. Letting him venture back in the lion’s den without backup sets a deep unsettling dread knotting your stomach. Drowning out logic and reason you beg him to stay.

Still on the list [14.1k] ☘︎

Frat!College!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, the infamous frat guy, known for sleeping around and throwing parties left and right, constantly invites you, out of all people, to all of them. His intentions though remain a mystery to you. Following a troubling event that leaves you shaken and anxious, Bucky is there to pick up the pieces. Stolen glances and exchanged smiles gradually blossom into a connection that goes beyond what meets the eye.

Casual Sweetness [2.3k] ♡ ✯

Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: You seek out your roommate and best friend Bucky for comfort after a girls night out leaves you shaken up.

Two [6.2k] ♡ ✯

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Your friends Wanda and Nat drag you to a corn maze event at night. After a rather unpleasant encounter with Bucky, Sam, and Steve, you want nothing but this night to end. Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to find the exit first.

Latte (He)art [7.8k]

Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader

Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.

Ocean’s claim [5.9k]

Lifeguard!Bucky x Amateur!Surfer!Reader

Summary: Seeking a thrill, your friend Natasha convinces you to go surfing during stormy weather conditions - a bad idea as you come to experience.

Pirate Nights and Pumpkin Lights [1.7k]

Modern!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and you take Morgan, Billy, and Tommy trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Soft spot [1.8k] ♡ ☘︎

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Alpine is determined to gain access to your room while you are resting.

Weakness [7.2k] ☘︎

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass.

Like he means it [13.6k] ☘︎

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You can’t take another night of hearing Bucky fuck a girl who isn’t you.

In too deep [7.4k] ☘︎

Fuck buddy!Bucky x Reader

Summary: After Bucky calls, and you come running, you end up locked in his bathroom, trying to get rid of the evidence that something hasn’t gone well this time.

Creamy or Crunchy [3.7k] ♡ ☘︎

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky joins you grocery shopping to everyone’s surprise.

Supposed Distraction [7.6k] ☘︎

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s birthday and you and your friends are planning a surprise party. That leaves you with the task to distract him while the others prepare.

Small gesture, Big meaning [3k] ✯

Tfatws!Bucky x Shield!Reader

Summary: Sam and you prepare something for Bucky’s birthday with the little you can scrape together.

Change your mind [6.5k] ☘︎

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Natasha drags you to an NYU baseball game. And despite yourself, one player catches your attention.

Home With You [4.3k] ✯

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and you visit the animal shelter to choose a kitten for adoption.

Drabbles ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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Avenger!Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to an unlocked door - his mind convinces him something horrible happened to you

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College!Bucky x College!Tutor!Reader

Summary: Bucky is more interested in learning about you than biology

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Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Five days of a fake marriage. Five days of Bucky bringing you flowers.

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”

- Edgar Allan Poe

[nix-sacrificium]

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[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi can you do a fic where female reader is a winter soldier in civil war as well as Bucky but he doesn’t get activated but his the reader does and the avengers and Bucky has to get through to her. He finally does when Steve and him crash the helicopter to keep her from leaving by asking her to finally marry him please?

I love your fics so much

Marry Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend/Winter Soldier!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and the Avengers

Summary: You get activated as the Winter Soldier, but Bucky doesn’t. When he gets through to you, he asks you to marry him.

Warnings: Angst (not you and Bucky), Fluff, language, violence, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request @bladesismylife 🩵

A/N #2: I used Google Translation for the Russian translations. I apologize if I got anything wrong.

Translations: ready to comply: я готов отвечать |

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You groaned softly as you woke up. You don’t remember passing out or how you ended up in a metal pod with your arms and legs strapped down with metal restraints. You looked around the room, trying to gather your surroundings. Lucky for you, Bucky was in the same room as you. Unfortunately, he was in the same position as you right now.

“Thank god! You’re awake!” Bucky says in relief.

“Where are we?” You asked.

“I think it’s some kind of facility.” He says.

You two managed to keep each other calm by talking to each other. Zemo walks in the room and sits down at the table that’s a few feet away from the pods you and Bucky are in.

“Hello, I’m Helmut Zemo. I’m here to evaluate you.” Zemo says, looking at you.

Little do the both of you know that Zemo’s focus is on you, not Bucky.

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice filled with annoyance.

“I just want to talk, Y/N.” Zemo says.

You and Bucky watched closely as Zemo rummaged through a file folder from your days in HYDRA.

“You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you, Y/N?” Zemo begins. “I’m here to discuss your home. Not where you grew up. Your real home.” He says.

Zemo picked up a journal with a black cover. Your eyes went wide and your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach.

“What the hell is that?” Bucky asks.

“You’ll see in a moment, James.” Zemo says.

Zemo opened the journal, flipping to the page that has your trigger words written on it. He stood up and started reading each trigger word. Your breathing became uneven. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to tuned him out.

“Doll, don’t listen to him. Focus on me.” Bucky says.

You opened your eyes and looked at your boyfriend. Bucky could see the pain in your eyes. Zemo circled the pod you’re in as he read your trigger words. He stood in between yours and Bucky’s pods, blocking your view of Bucky.

“Please stop.” You pleaded, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Zemo didn’t stop. He read every single trigger word till you broke free from the metal restraints and broke yourself out of the metal pod, using all of your strength. Bucky watches with wide eyes. You slowly stood up in from of Zemo.

“Soldat?” Zemo says.

“я готов отвечать.” You replied.

Zemo brought up a date from years ago. It was a mission you did for HYDRA. You didn’t respond to that well and Bucky seen it firsthand. Bucky used all of his strength to get free of the restrains and the metal pod at the same time Steve and Sam entered the room.

“What the hell happened?” Steve asks.

“Zemo activated Y/N as the Winter Soldier.” Bucky tells him.

“Why didn’t he activate you?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know.” Bucky replies.

Bucky, Steve, and Sam seen Zemo on the floor. Bucky picked him up and slammed him against the wall.

“What the hell did you do to my girlfriend?!” Bucky growls.

“Like I said, James, you’ll see.” Zemo says with an evil grin on his face.

“What the hell is supposed to mean?” Steve asks.

That’s when you came up behind Bucky, Steve, and Sam and started attacking them. They tried to dodge all of your punches and kicks, but you still knocked them to the floor. Bucky ran after you and grabbed you from behind as you tried to left the room.

“Doll, you have to fight it. This isn’t you.” Bucky says.

You tried to squirm free, but Bucky had a tight grip on you. You threw your head back, giving him a blood nose, which made him let go of you so he could hold his bloody nose. You left the room.

“Buck, are you ok?” Steve asks.

“I’m fine.” Bucky says, uncovering his nose.

“Your nose is bleeding.” Steve points out.

“Yea, I know. She threw her head back against my nose.” Bucky tells him.

While Sam went to see where Zemo went off to, Bucky went to the seating area with Steve following behind him. You flipped Sharon into a table and slammed Natasha into another table. You then found a gun and aimed it at Tony. That’s when Bucky ran over to you and got it out of your hand and crushed it with his metal hand.

“You need to snap out of this, doll. I know you can.” Bucky says.

You stared Bucky right in his eyes before walking away. Bucky followed close behind you.

“Why is Barnes trying to sweet talk Y/N?” T’Challa asks Steve.

“He’s trying to get her to snap out of it.” Steve says before following you and Bucky.

Bucky followed you to the roof. He watched you get in the helicopter and start it up. Bucky ran over to it, grabbing on to it and using all of his strength to stop it. Steve got on the roof just in time to help Bucky. Your jaw clenched as you glared at your boyfriend and his best friend. You move the helicopter towards them. They jumped out of the way before the helicopter hit them. Bucky watched in horror as the helicopter fell off the edge of the roof and into the water below. He jumped off the roof and into the water to get you. Steve jumped in the water as well. Bucky pulled you out of the helicopter that’s now under water and then got you above water, swimming to the side with you in his arms. He gently out of the water and got out of the water with Steve’s help.

“Doll, wake up.” Bucky says softly, gently tapping your cheek.

You woke up and coughed up water. Bucky helped you sit up and rubbed your back.

“Y/N?” He asks, making sure it’s you and not the Winter Soldier.

“Yes?” You asked as yourself.

Bucky felt relieved that you’re back to your normal self and hugged you. He then pulled away from the hug and cupped your cheeks, gazing deep in your eyes.

“Are you ok?” He asks.

“I am now.” You replied.

Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, still gazing in your eyes.

“Marry me?” Bucky asks softly.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest when he said that.

“What?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Will you marry me?” He asks again. “I know I don’t have a ring, but I can’t go another day without you being my wife.” He says with love and adoration in his voice.

Your eyes teared up at Bucky’s heartfelt words.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Bucky.” You say happily.

Bucky smiles widely and kisses you passionately. Steve watches the cute moment in front of him. He’s happy that his best friend found someone he loves and wants to spend the rest of his life with.

“Congratulations, you guys.” Steve smiles.

You two pulled away from the kiss and smiled at Steve.

We should get out of here before we get caught.” Steve says.

“That’s a good idea.” Bucky says.

You and Bucky kissed once more before standing up.

“I love you so much, doll.” He says softly with a smile.

“I love you too, baby.” You almost whispered, smiling back.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll