#i’d tag agent stone if he were more than a head reacting but he’s too busy simping

[inkbomber]

start getting horny about fat men 🔫 i am no longer asking politely

[moralesispunk]

Better Than the Art

Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Summary: as you guided a school trip around the museum you were joined by a handsome stranger who just so happened to be an FBI agent working in art crime.

I was inspired for this when I found the photo below on Pintrest!

Thursdays are your favourite day to work at the museum and that is because on Thursdays the museum is open for school trips. 

It was a routine you had grown to love. You start your day walking a group of tiny humans around the exhibits from Renaissance to Baroque to Neoclassicism to Romanticism, winning them over just before moving them to the canteen. After lunch you let them run free around everything from surrealism to pop art, watching their faces react to the strange and wonderful works of art that line the room. By the end of the day they are lying on their stomachs in a room full of classics, legs kicking in the air while they draw their own piece of art to stick to the wall on the way out. As their teacher walks them towards their bus a little more interested in art than they had been before they walked in they yell a chorus of thank you and you get to pay attention to their small works of art in more detail. There are drawings of them and their friends, or their dog, or the occasional attempt at a recreation of one of the paintings they saw during their tour. It is a wonderful day, listening to them talk about the art in the most simple way rather than give a twenty minute, or pretentious, response to “how does this art make you feel”.

They say exactly how it makes them feel; happy, sad, excited, bored. It is refreshing to listen to what they have to say about the art that you get to look at every day.  

As you walked around with the group of 10-year olds today you noticed they were a lot quieter than your usual groups. You had spent most of your morning hearing your own voice and for once you were excited that lunch was coming up after this next room. You stopped at the first painting in the room and turned to the circle that had formed around you.

"How does this painting make you feel?"

The question echoed around the hall for a moment before a voice that was far too deep for a ten year old came from your side.

“Happy.”

You turned to the man, dressed in suit trousers and a shirt with a suit jacket folded across his arms. You were taken aback by how handsome this man was; his hair slightly messy and a few crinkles by his eyes from the small smile on his face.

“Look at the way their smiles are painted,” he stepped closer towards you so he was now in line with the group of children in front of you, “the way she paints a smile is just so... real. I feel as though I’m right there, dancing with all those people. I can feel their happiness.”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that was now covering your face at how enthusiastically this man spoke about the art on the wall or the warmth that was now creeping up your cheeks at how his eyes never once landed on the actual painting but stayed locked on you. 

“I agree,” you sighed contently, a moment passing where you almost forgot that you were in the middle of a busy museum guiding a school trip rather than standing alone with this stranger. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself and turning back to the children, “does anyone agree with Mr...”

“Pike. But please, Marcus.”

“Marcus,” you smiled at the man, “does anyone agree with Marcus.”

A sea of hands flew up as the quiet group finally began to speak about how they liked that the people were dancing in bare feet or that they could see them singing along to the band painted in the background. As the chatter continued you mouthed a thank you to Marcus and he shook his head with a smile.

“Let’s move on then,” you called out, stepping round the group to lead them to the next painting.

“Mind if I tag along, get the free guided tour?” Marcus walked next to you.

“Not at all,” you smiled back.

You guided the tour around the rest of the room, the children now more involved than they had been before Marcus joined you and were talking about their favourite parts of the art you were showing them. Marcus stood a few paces behind, listening carefully to your description for each painting or sculpture, biting back a smile when you got really excited as you spoke about your favourite part of the painting and your voice got that little bit louder while you spoke a little faster. 

At the end of the hall you walked into the canteen and the children’s teacher sat them all down at one of the tables, pulling out their lunchboxes as the loud chatter began.

“I’ll come back and collect you all in forty-five minutes?” you said to the teacher and she nodded before you turned back to Marcus.

He had waited for you at the edge of the room, half reading one of the information plaques next to a painting as he watched you walk towards him. You never were usually this forward with someone but he was handsome and you were intrigued.

“I know this might be a strange request but do you want to get lunch with me?” you asked when you finally reached him, clasping your hands in front of you to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I would love to,” Marcus held his hand out towards the exit, “lead the way.”  

There was a cafe next to the museum that you liked to frequent on your lunch breaks and you decided to take Marcus there, telling him that they sold the best sandwiches you had ever had on the walk over.

“Its the ratio!” you laughed when Marcus asked how the sandwich could be that good, “the bread to sauce to contents, its a perfect balance.”

Marcus threw this head back in a laugh before speeding up to reach for the door before you could. When you stepped inside you were glad that it was quieter than usual today, leading Marcus towards a table in the corner beside the window. A waitress you recognised walked over towards the table and you ordered two sandwiches before she headed into the back.

“I hope you like the sandwich after I hyped it up so much,” you laughed.

“You seem like you have good taste so I trust you,” he flashed you a smile and you could feel your cheeks warm before you cleared your throat.

“So, are you from around here?”

Marcus shook his head, taking a drink of the coffee that had been placed in front of him.

“I moved from Dallas a couple of months ago but things had been so hectic with work that this is the first chance I have got to check out the sights, the museums.”

You hummed, letting the cup of coffee warm your hands before taking a sip.

“What kind of work do you do?”

“FBI. Art crimes,” he replied plainly.

“Oh, wow,” you laughed, “well Agent Pike, busy with all the undercover work since you arrived then?”

“Yes actually,” your eyes went wide in time for the sandwiches being placed in front of you and Marcus laughed, “it’s not as exciting as it sounds.”

“I doubt that. Anyway, Bon Appétit.”

The both of you went quiet as you bit into the sandwiches, Marcus letting out a groan that almost made your cheeks flush before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This is... the best sandwich I’ve ever had. You sure didn’t lie about that.”

“Told you!”

“You’ve got a little,” Marcus waved towards the side of your mouth before lifting his thumb to the side of your mouth and swiping some sauce away, “got it.”

“Oh, thank you,” you dipped your head down to hide your blush, hearing Marcus chuckle a little as you did so.

Lunch went by quickly, the conversation never stopping between you both as you told him why you moved to DC and more about your friends and family. He told you about his move here, slightly divulging into a failed engagement that made the smile fall from his face and so you quickly changed the subject. 

Laughing at something he said your eyes caught the clock on the wall.

“Oh shoot, I need to head back,” you pulled your purse from your bag and Marcus leaned across the table to stop you with a palm on top of your hand.

“Please, let me,” he pulled out his wallet to leave some money for the check and a tip.

“Marcus, I-”

“No buts, my treat,” he smiled.

“Thank you, Marcus. How about I let you join in for the second half of the tour then, if you’re not busy?”

“I’d love that.”

By the time you and Marcus reached the canteen the children were all ready to go and so you took off in the direction of this afternoons exhibits. The children were a lot more enthused with this art; the bright colours and wacky subject matter setting a chatter among them that didn’t stop until the end of the day.

Every so often you would look up to Marcus who was focused on what you were saying and he would flash you a smile. There wasn’t a time that when he smiled that gorgeous smile you didn’t lose track of what you were saying and had to shake yourself to get back to the tour.

When you reached the final room, filled with the most famous pieces of art that the museum held, you gathered the children in the middle of the room. 

“Now, I want to see your art,” you pulled out the paper and pencils, handing them to each child sitting on the ground, “you can draw yourself or you friends, or a landscape piece...”

You headed towards Marcus who was now sitting on a bench a bit further back from the group.

“Can maybe even attempt drawing a piece of the art,” you handed a piece of paper to Marcus as well and gave him a wink before turning back to the children, “whatever you want.”

You let them draw for fifteen minutes, walking around quietly as you watched their art come to life. Every so often you would glance over to Marcus who was now sitting with one leg over the other as he leaned on one of the gift shop tour guides. His face was set in stone, his tongue peeking out slightly whenever he sat back to look at what he was drawing before leaning back down to finish it.

“Alright, I think everyone is about done. On the way out there is a wall of art and I want you to stick yours up there so add your name at the bottom.”

When the group of children were finally herded together by their teacher, their art pinned on the wall and a cheer of small thank yous shouted in your direction, you finally turned back to Marcus.

“I drew something better than the art,” he handed you a piece of paper.

When you looked down at the paper there was a shaded in drawing of yourself. It was... beautiful. You smiled down at the paper, your finger tracing over it for a moment.

“Today was the best day I’ve had since... since I can remember and I would love to get to know you more,” Marcus’s voice brought your attention back up to him.

“Marcus, this is- I- thank you,” you finally managed, holding the paper to your chest, “I would love to see you again.”

“I don’t really know the area that well but theres a nice Italian near my place if you like that sort of food?”

“Sounds perfect,” you nodded, turning around and grabbing a spare bit of paper to scribble down your phone number, “call me?”

Marcus nodded, folding the note and placing it in his trouser pocket. You decided to lean into the new-found courage you had gathered today, leaning forward while balancing yourself on Marcus’s arm and placing a kiss to his cheek.

“See you soon, Marcus.”

//

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa​ @queridopascal

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-18: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“Why do you look like someone who got caught red-handed with their hand in the cookie jar?“

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

For the next one week, I threw myself into the making of Lin Yao's dress.

MC: It's finally done! Now all that's left is the fitting; but she's so busy, I don't know when she'll be able to schedule a fitting session.

Zheng Lin: You're lucky. Lin Yao will be coming down today for a shoot for "Neverland", a magazine that's under a subsidiary of Warson's.

Zheng Lin: You can contact her agent and check with them about it.

MC: Will do!

Because of her tight schedule, the fitting session ended up being slotted after the shoot.

The magazine's shooting location was at a studio near Warson. Brother Mao had already brought the dress over for me beforehand.

❖☆———————————★❖

By the time I finally finished my work on hand and headed out of the office, ready to cross the alley over to the studio, a spot of white at a corner of a wall caught my attention.

The person carefully looked around before slowly crouching down, seemingly in search of something.

MC: ...Why does that person look so familiar?

I approached the figure as I mused about that. A silver head of hair, dressed entirely in white; the answer clicked in my head almost immediately.

SARIEL!? What's he doing here!?

What surprised me, even more, was the fact that he was currently facing a couple of dustbins and a pile of discarded items.

Wasn't Sariel all about cleanliness!? The headlines were already flashing in my head. "The Black History of the Top of the Top Designer Scavenging for Rubbish".

I hurriedly shook my head and threw the absurd thought out of the window.

★Night Choice: Sneak away

I should hurry and sneak away before he realizes I'm here…

I lightened my footsteps and prepared to sneak away from him behind his back.

Sariel: You. What are you doing here?

MC: !

He saw me! I could only turn around and smile sheepishly at him.

MC: What a coincidence to meet you here, Director Qi...

He'd already reverted to his usual high and haughty self. He watched me with his arms folded.

Sariel: How coincidental, indeed. Why is it that every time I see you, not only are you not taking your job seriously, but also look like you're harbouring a guilty conscience?

MC: But, you were squatting on the ground doing god-knows-what earlier. Isn't that more…

Sariel: What did you say?

MC: Nope! Nothing at all! What great weather out today!!

The words had just left my mouth when a cloud gently floated past the sky above us.

Sariel raised his eyebrows, the contempt reflected in his eyes speaking larger than words. I had the nagging feeling that he was about to start berating me again.

Sariel: Don't change the topic. What exactly are you doing here?

☆Light Choice: Watch curiously

Logically thinking about it, I should sneak away while I still had the chance since he hadn't noticed me yet; but, I couldn't quite stop my curiosity.

Plus, seeing Sariel like that really gives people a lot to think about. Not only does he look terribly secretive about something, but he was also crouched by a dustbin in search of something.

MC: Just what is he looking for?

I followed his line of sight, but all I could see was a pile of yellow sand, a few steel frames, and two rubbish bins. I looked away in confusion, but my eyes were soon met with his inquisitive ones the moment I raised my head.

MC: D-D-Director Qi!

I was startled so bad that my words came out in a stuttered mess. Sariel had already stood back up, facing me with folded arms.

Sariel: What are you doing here? And why do you look like someone who got caught red-handed with their hand in the cookie jar?

MC: I'm only passing by for work purposes…

Sariel: Do I look that easy to fool to you?

MC: I'm not lying. I'm only passing by because of work! I'm headed to the shooting studio over there!

I hurriedly pointed to the shooting studio situated at the other end of the alleyway to prove my innocence. He glanced over before his eyes flickered back to me. He stared me in the eye for a while before finally breaking contact.

MC: Are you looking for something, Director? Do you need me to help look for it with you?

Sariel: ...What did you see?

He suddenly stiffens. That expression of his… Did I see something I shouldn't have?

MC: Nothing! Zilch, nada! I didn't see anything!

Sariel: I don't need your help. Hurry along your merry way now.

MC: Oh, okay… See you then, Director.

Sariel only released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding only after the girl's figure disappeared.

He picked up a small branch, meticulously giving it a thorough cleansing before surveying the area once more. After confirming that there was no one in the vicinity, he crouched back down. He poked the mound of sand. No reaction. He knocked on the trash cans. Nothing.

Sariel: …...

The sunlight shines upon the ground, highlighting the speck of dirt staining his shoe.

He resisted the urge to wipe it clean. Instead, he continued to poke the mound of sand near him.

And in the next moment, the mound of sand moved. The fallen leaves that had been above it letting out a crisp "crunch".

Sariel's brow furrowed as he used the stick to flick the sand away bit by bit.

Sariel: Come out.

A plump lizard poked its head out of the sand with great difficulty. One glance at Sariel was enough to make it burst into tears.

Lizard: Old Qi! You've finally come for me! Hurry and save me! I won't leave home again! I'm not complaining if you make me go vegetarian anymore!

Sariel: Silence.

Sariel unscrewed the cap of a bottle of mineral water, placing it on the floor before retreating a couple of steps.

Sariel: Wash yourself before you go. If I spot a single grain of sand back home...

Lizard: I'm gonna be turned into a braised lizard.

He let out a satisfied sneer before taking a big stride away, turning to leave.

Lizard: Hey! Wait up, Old Qi! Who's that human girl just now?

Lizard: I'd passed out, but I reawakened when I heard her voice!

Lizard: I can't help but feel like she sounds a little familiar. Like I've heard her before...

Sariel stops and suddenly turns back around.

Sariel: What did you say?

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Achoo!

I consecutively sneezed thrice as I headed to the shooting studio. Is someone talking about me behind my back or something?

❖☆———————————★❖

I entered the shooting studio as I thought it over, only to see Brother Mao, who was standing by the entrance, the moment I looked up.

Brother Mao: You're here only NOW? Here, here. Come here!

MC: What's up, Brother Mao? It's still early, no? Why are you so panicky?

Brother Mao: The shooting ended early— No, wait. I suppose I should say that it's been forcibly postponed till tomorrow.

MC: Huh? But why?

Brother Mao: Because of Lin Yao's agent, of course!

Brother Mao: She said that the photographers weren't the ones that they'd chosen, so they weren't going to be shooting today. She said that they were going to do it tomorrow instead when the right photographers are here!

Brother Mao: You know how I'm usually fast to run my mouth? Well, the scariest thing was that I couldn't even put a word in...

MC: ……

MC: What did Lin Yao say about it?

Brother Mao: She only stood there, not a peep from her. From the looks of it, it looks like both mother and daughter are in agreement.

MC: Mother and daughter? The agent's her mom?

Brother Mao: Yeah. I think she pampers her kid too much. That's why she's being so picky and choosy with us.

MC: Well, that shouldn't be the case. All reports have said that Lin Yao is very sensible and easy to talk with.

Brother Mao: Hell, I don't know! Go take a look for yourself.

MC: And Lin Yao? Where's she now?

Brother Mao: She went to try out the clothes.

Brother Mao: I have a bad feeling, though. Her agent had a look of distaste on her face when she took the clothes earlier. I don't know if she—

BANG!

The door to the dressing room suddenly flung open with terrifying viciousness.

Brother Mao and I jumped in fright. A cold and shrill feminine voice sounded before we could even react in time.

??: You call these clothes wearable!?

Brother Mao: And that's the agent.

Following the rapid clicking of high heels, a woman dressed in a sleeveless dress walked up to him and stared him down with her hands on her hips.

Agent: Our Yaoyao is sincerely and earnestly putting in the effort for this cooperation. She even especially delayed her flight!

Agent: All for the sake of trying on her dress!

Agent: Yet, how dare you give us this half-hearted dress that's not even suitable!? I want to see your Designer!

MC: ……

MC: Hello. I am (Y/n), the Designer.

Agent: Is Warson treating us as fools? You're so young; you must be an intern! Warson can't just ride roughshod over its customers like that!

Brother Mao: Who says that being young equals being an intern!? She's one of our best Designers!

Brother Mao had a vein protruding on his forehead in his ire. I quickly reassured him that everything was fine.

MC: You can feel free to tell me just what about this outfit you're unsatisfied with. This is what this fitting session is for. I will try my best to modify it.

The agent coldly contemplated us for a good long while before turning and walking back into the dressing room. Brother Mao and I followed after her.

❖☆———————————★❖

Although I had a calm facade on the outside, I was a whirlwind of emotions within. I most definitely didn’t know what Lin Yao looked like, wearing those clothes.

Upon seeing her, I felt my heart plummet to the ground with a loud thud, as if it were a stone.

She stood there indifferently, positioned between light and shadows. Her skin was so pale that it appeared as if light could permeate through it. She looked like a dark elf emerging from the depths of the moonlit waters.

She slowly turns around at the sound. She had an expressionless look on her face. Was she in a bad mood?

Agent: What’s with this gloomy colour? Pink is what suits our Yaoyao best! Get it? Girly pink!

Agent: Also, this dress is way too short! It should reach below the knees at least so that it can highlight her pureness and innocence.

Agent: These metal tassels are inappropriate as well! God knows if they’ll think that she’s a bad girl wearing these!

Agent: Also, Yaoyao got injured while filming beforehand, so her scar must be covered.

Brother Mao: But, you never mentioned anything about scars beforehand…?

Agent: Who would want to be injured? It’s an accident.

Looking at the scars on Lin Yao’s forearm and wrist, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity.

MC: I will think of something for her scars. The other aspects of the design were designed to suit the character she portrays, that's why I didn't go for the innocent and soft look.

MC: I also hope that Miss Lin Yao here will be able to portray a different image to the masses with this outfit.

Agent: You are a Designer, are you not? It is your DUTY to help us make these adjustments.

I ignored her, walking straight to Lin Yao.

MC: Miss Lin Yao, may I ask if this dress is satisfactory to you?

MC: If you do not like it, then we can shelve this and I'll start designing a new one right now. You can just tell me if that's the case; there's no need to feel bad.

Lin Yao was silent. She seemed to be looking at me, yet not quite. She gradually pressed her lips into a thin line, as if making a hard decision.

I was just about to take her silence as a “no” when she finally spoke.

Lin Yao: Mother. This style is what's been recently trending. You can't deny that this might open more doors for me in the future.

Lin Yao: And, have you already forgotten the interview by the media the other day where they were asking when I'd be able to change my image once in a while?

Upon hearing this, her agent shot her a long and profound look, as if she’d wanted to say something, yet it wasn’t too convenient for her to do so seeing as we were also present. Eventually, she gave a reluctant nod.

Agent: Fine. I’ll go ask about the photographer issue again. Hurry and change back out of your clothes.

Brother Mao shot me a look before following after her.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-15) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-21)

[starlightasgardian]

Broken (Chapter 2)

Read the first part here

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: about 2k

Summary: You and Bucky have been captured by Hydra, and The Winter Soldier has been activated. 

Warnings: ALL THE ANGST, lil bit of heartbreak, blood and injuries, threats

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long to update! However, instead of making this a two-parter I’ve decided to turn it into a series. This year I’ve been dealing with a lot of shit health wise, I’m currently posting this from the hospital so :)) Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated and let me know if you have any ideas or requests! 

Bucky was a silent assassin, staring at the wall ahead, waiting for orders. There was only one word to describe how you felt. Horrified.

The room stayed in silence for a while, nothing daring to make a sound. The only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart, and the readjusting of Bucky’s meal arm.

Finally, the Mystery Man closed the book shut with a harsh fist, causing you to snap out of whatever daydreaming you were doing to get yourself out of this awful situation.

“I can’t wait for the fun to begin!” He said, his excitement disturbing. “Soldat, you are going to be my prize entertainment for tonight. Do you have any idea who this is, standing in front of you?”

Your heart leapt as you made eye contact with him. Maybe he did recognize you, maybe he wasn’t going to hurt you, maybe-

“No, sir.”

Your hopes shattered. His voice was dry and cracked from screaming and begging, but he wouldn’t remember that. Not only was he quieter than usual, but he sounded cold, and uncaring. Not like the James you knew. Your face fell at his words, and you wondered if it was just your imagination or if he looked as though he regretted saying no because of it.

The glimpse of the man you knew was gone, however, after Mystery Man looked him straight in the eye and said “I have orders for you, Sergeant.”

Bucky stiffened immediately and his stone cold facade returned. He didn’t speak, awaiting orders as he was trained to do.

You desperately tried to get him to look at you again, to try and break through, but you knew it was useless when you heard his commander say, “I need her unconscious so she can be transported to a cell without a struggle. Don’t hit her in the head though, at least not yet, we don’t want permanent brain damage ruining our fun.”

Bucky stepped forward quickly and you flinched, trying to stand your ground but finding it increasingly hard as he got closer and closer to you with every large stride.

You wanted to prove to him that you loved him, that you could never be scared of him, but your feet betrayed you and you stepped back, farther away from his grasp. It was pointless and you knew it as he reached his metal arm out and wrapped it around your neck with ease.

He didn’t stop there, however, he continued to walk forward with your neck in his hands until your back was hitting the wall.

With each moment you found it increasingly hard to breathe as his fingers squeezed in just the right places. He wasn’t even looking at you, you realized, he was analyzing you. It wasn’t because he cared. He just wanted to make sure his mission was complete. With hot tears burning in your eyes, your hands flew up to his, unable to stop him from constricting your airways but trying nevertheless. You clawed and grasped and kicked, but it was no use. Your vision slowly started to black out and the last thing you remember is the harsh sound of laughter.

When you awoke, you noticed you were in a damp room, chained to the wall. You had no idea where Bucky or the Mystery Man went, and it took you awhile to regain your senses. You wondered how long you had been out for but there was no way to tell. There were no windows, no clocks, nothing but the growing ache in your stomach and your dry throat thirsting for water.

You took the time alone to observe: you found yourself in one of many cells along a thin hallway, metal bars and dirt floors along the way. Clearly Hydra’s prisoners weren’t here for a vacation. There were two cells beside you and one directly across, but you couldn’t tell if anyone else was there. It appeared that you were alone, and somehow that made you feel more uneasy than you already did. You couldn’t help but notice the blood stains on the floor, the tally marks carved into the walls. Were they planning on keeping you here forever?

You remained silent, waiting, until finally you heard the sound of a door open. Heavy footsteps followed, and Mystery Man came in escorting no other than the infamous Winter Soldier.

Except...was it really him? Bucky’s face was newly bloody and bruised, his feet failing him as he was shoved harshly into the cell across from yours. You had no idea what was happening, and before you could ask, your captor said:

“He’s a tough one to crack. As soon as you were out, he realized what he did and went all psycho on me. Took seven of my agents to pin him down and he only stopped fighting when I threatened him with the book again. He said he would do anything to stop it, anything to let you go home, and you should have seen the look on his face when I started laughing. I’d call it a healthy mix of...utter hopelessness and rage? Anyways, my pal Bucky here couldn’t do much more resisting when I read his trigger words again, but we’re giving him some time to recover from his valiant fight. I hope you use this bonding opportunity to your advantage, (Y/N). Au revoir!”

Before you could even say anything, he was gone. You didn’t know how to react to what was happening, did you try talking to Bucky? Did you make yourself small and unknown and not draw his attention towards you? Does he want your help or does he want your silence?

You figured there was only one way to find out.

“Hey, James...” you let out softly.

He didn’t stir from his place on the floor.

“Do you know who I am?”

Nothing, still.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry Hydra got to you again.” There were not enough words for the apology you wanted to give.

His breathing hitched. You noticed his figure was stiffer than before, he was definitely listening to you. And he knew Hydra was the enemy.

That’s as far as you got that night (or was it morning?) and Bucky never responded to a single word you said.

You promised you were on his side, that you would never hurt him, that you loved him and your forgave him for anything he was forced to do.

Nothing happened until Mystery Man came in and ordered Bucky to stand up. His face was still bloody, but you could tell his injuries were already healed because of the serum.

Your cell was unlocked and you were forced to follow as you wove through the intricate hallways. You knew there was no point in trying to memorize the directions. You were lead into a room with guards standing on either side of you and a large screen facing the opposite direction.

To your shock, you saw the rest of your team’s faces staring back at you when you faced it.

“(Y/N)!”

The Avengers all started talking at once, you couldn’t tell the difference between “you’re alive!” or “are you okay?” or “what have they done to you?” or “where is Bucky?”

“Ah, such a good question!” The Mystery Man interrupted. Everyone fell silent at once. “Soldat, show yourself.”

Bucky stepped forward into the camera’s view, following his instructions and staring blankly as if he had no idea who these people were. His friends. His family.

The silence came to a standstill when Tony said “what do you want from us? Money? Take it. Just let them go. They have done nothing to you.”

“No, I suppose not, but I do have great use for them. Soldat, show your strength. It’s time to show them the Bucky they know is gone.”

Realization hit the faces of your peers. This wasn’t him...this was The Winter Soldier.

Mystery Man gestured for him to come over, and something was whispered to him in Russian. 

You had no time to think before a strong metal hand pinned you to the wall and knocked the breath out of you. 

You couldn’t comprehend what it felt like as he backhanded you across the face, and you could barely hear the panicked shouts of your teammates.

You didn’t know what to do when the love of your life kicked you in the ribs, probably shattering one.

Bucky hit you, kicked you, punched you, choked you, never ceasing but never doing it hard enough to permanently injure or kill you. You were hoping it was because a piece of him was still in there and he didn’t want to bring you harm, but you knew it was because Hydra needed you alive. His eyes were heartless and so was he. 

Mystery Man’s voice was sharp and clear in your mind as he finally told Winter to stand down.

You were left a gasping, broken mess on the floor, and you didn’t know what to do as Bucky stepped over you, stepped over you, and walked away. 

You were left there, laying hopeless on the ground, as you heard the words that changed everything. 

“I know you managed to secure a vial of the deadly virus before we could get our hands on it.”

You had completely forgotten about the virus, why you were here in the first place. You had a feeling everyone else did too, and Natasha’s face paled. 

“This is my ultimatum: bring it to me, and (Y/N) is yours. Don’t, and Bucky Barnes will kill her tonight.” 

The video feed suddenly cut off, and you could do nothing but wait. 

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