Bucky x Reader
Summary: She’s breathless, and not in a good way.
Word Count: 1.8k+
Warnings: swearing i think, mentions of starvation, violence, torture, death. ANGST.
Looking at him took my breath away, and not the good kind that most people associate breathlessness with. I couldn’t breathe. It was as if a pile of rocks sat in my chest. Each breath hurt worse than the last. My body was shaking with unadulterated fear. I was face to face with the monster under my bed, the star of my nightmares. The same stormy blue eyes that shot me in the shoulder all those years ago.
I honestly thought I was going to puke. My hands were clammy and I felt light headed. Tears threatened to spill over my cheeks and I take in a bated breath. My surroundings fade and it feels like I’m floating.
His blue eyes are no longer menacing and cold. Instead, they’re soft but haunted. It still doesn’t make me feel any better being around him. His eyes brightened at the sight of me for a moment and it unnerved me. His face falls and he takes a hesitant step towards me.
“Y/n? Is that really you?” he asked, his eyes search mine for a trace of the girl that was imprisoned with him. I know he can’t, because that girl no longer exists. Not since he shot me, at least.
I crossed my arms and straighten my posture. “You’re not a very good shot,” I spat, pulling the shoulder of my shirt down, revealing the nasty scar that stretched from my shoulder to my neck. He winces.
“Y/n!” Steve hissed, scowling at me.
“Fuck off, Steve. Did you know I was his first and failed mission?” I sneered angrily. “I was the test subject to determine if he was the Soldier. Spoiler alert, he failed.”
“Because I was still me, dizzy doll! I couldn’t shoot you. I wouldn’t kill you. You’re my girl!” Bucky interjected.
I look away and a tear slides down my cheek. “Your feelings for me set HYDRA up with decades of torture. They had no point for me so I was expendable. Every new method they came up with to torture you with, started with me.”
It was 1949, four years after the war ended and I found myself in post war torn Austria. I had just finished my degree and a promising job offer led to to the ruined country. I was too excited to see the skepticism in the offer. It was deep in the mountains and I had no knowledge of how to transport to and from the closest town nearby where I was suppose to be living. That was my first mistake.
The men who I’d later discover as HYDRA agents would drug me on the car ride there. I’d be striped of my belongings and nearly starve to death for the next week until they moved me into the cell block Bucky was occupying. I was scared and weak, terrified that I was going to die.
I was freezing in the clothes that I wore. I wanted to make an impression, so I wore a nice, bright yellow dress with my lab coat that would be my only source for warmth. I was getting sick. I coughed up a lung every now and then and my skin was hot to the touch, even though I was shivering.
And then by some miracle, they moved me. They viciously dragged me down multiple corridors until I got lost wherever we were. If they thought that I was ever planning on escaping, having multiple hallways with just as many others was the trick at capturing me, that’s for sure.
The doors in front of us opened with a scream and I shake against their grasp. They throw me into the room blindly and I fall with a loud crack. My knees crumble and my palms burn against the rough concrete.
I managed to get onto my feet and back myself into a corner. I ducked my head into my knees, quietly muttering prayers that I learned over the years. My eyes close and I shake with each word that tumbles out of my lips.
“Why did they bring you here?” a voice hissed out in another part of the room. It’s rough, raspy.
My eyes snapped open and I’m met with a worse for wear looking man. Despite our conditions, he looked fine. He was muscular and from the looks of it, he was wearing clean clothes. I scan the cell and notice this cell is ten times better than the one I was in.
It had a bathroom area and a small cot for a bed. It was an ideal hostage room unlike the one I was in. The cell I was in only had a bucket for a toilet and I was confined to the floor as a bed.
“I-I don’t kn-know,” I rasped out in between a coughing fit. My throat burned and it took everything in me not to throw up. “They j-just threw me in here. I’ve been isolated for a w-week.”
His cold eyes soften and he grabbed the cup of water to his right. He walked over to me before gently grabbing my hand, placing it in my hand. I thank him quietly, drinking it slowly. My eyes met his again again and for the first time I notice how beautiful he is.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Y/n,” I mumbled, shaking in the rags of my lab coat.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n. I’m Bucky.”
After we met, I found solace in him. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and the months turned into a full year of imprisonment. It was a slow and torturous year, but I had Bucky. He kept me safe and warm.
He’d sooth me whenever I’d forget myself. He knew me better than I knew myself in just a year span. He’d remind me of who I was and run his cool metal fingers through my hair until I fell asleep in his embrace. No matter how many times HYDRA attempted to erase who I was, Bucky was always there. They could never erase him from me, and he brought me back to the ground.
One day after an attempted mind wipe, I was worse for wear. They threw me back into the cell roughly and I had no energy to lift myself up onto my butt. I was weak and feeble, shaking in response from the energy coursing through my body.
Bucky hurried to my side and held my head in his hands. My eyes closed as I listened to his soft strong voice. He was lulling me to sleep before my eyes opened again. Our eyes meet and my hand reached up, tangling my fingers in his hair.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m so weak and–and broken. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”
“Shh,” he murmured, “You’re not weak or broken. They’re trying to break you, but you’re not broken. I don’t mind takin’ care of you. You remind me of sickly Steve. I like takin’ care of you. I care about you.”
He holds me and pulls me into his lap. My hand brushed against his cheek and he leans into my touch. His fingers play with my hair and our foreheads touch.
“Y/n,” he breathed, “I really want to kiss you,” he confessed.
My heart leaped out of my chest and I turn my head, pressing my mouth against his. It’s firm and full of everything each of us want to say but there were no words for it. He holds me close and I cling to him. He seemed to be the only thing anchoring me.
“James,” I whispered against his lips. He hums in reply. “James, whatever happens to me, it’s okay. I can’t keep going like this. If HYDRA for whatever reason decides to kill me, I want them to. I can’t live like this anymore.”
“No,” he begged, holding my face. “I can’t lose you too.”
“Bucky, I can’t keep going like this. I want to die. I can’t handle another minute of HYDRA. You have to understand. I’m begging you to understand.”
“Y/n,” he croaked, “I can’t let them kill you. You’re all I have.”
I smiled softly at him, running a finger over his cheek. “It’s okay, Bucky. I’ll still be with you here,” I press my hand against his chest.
A handful of days pass before anything happens. It’s the middle of the night and I’m ripped off the home I’ve made in Bucky’s embrace. I cry out and he reaches for me, but he’s beaten into submission at the sound of a gun cocking. I freeze, adjust to the bright light in the room.
Agents surrounded us. My eyes met Bucky’s and his plead with mine. Mine soften, knowing what’s to come.
One of the head agents enters the room, a red book in hand.
“No,” Bucky cries, struggling against the agents in the room. “No, please.”
“Bucky,” I coo, forcing him to look at me. “It’s okay.”
Tears slide down his cheeks and a sob rips through his chest. I watch the agent open the book, thumbing through the pages. I tone the agent out, focusing on Bucky.
He’s gone moments later and his orders are given. He takes the gun and moves it to my direction. His eyes are cold, but it doesn’t frighten me.
“It’s okay,” I murmured in reassurance. “It’s okay, Bucky. Do it, please.”
He looks at me and raises a brow. Something in him clicks, but the gun still goes off. I crumbled to the ground, pain ripping through my shoulder. I was still alive.
“No. No, no, no,” I chanted under my breath as they dragged me away to privately discipline him. I never saw him again until now.
“I asked, no, begged, you to shoot me. I was miserable. I was weak. I was dying. I wanted to be put out of my misery. You know better than anyone else how that feels,” I spat angrily, feeling my face get hot as tears slid down my cheeks.
“I loved you, Y/n! I couldn’t have you dying on my conscious!” he cried.
“Oh, and I’m sure you could have Howard and Maria on your conscious then, huh? You don’t love me,” I argued. “You think you do, but you don’t. I was the only companion you had. You don’t love me.”
I know it’s a low blow, but I don’t really care, not yet at least. I’m hurt. I’m scared. It’s the first time since he shot me that I’ve seen him.
His face fell and Steve growled my name. I ignore him, storming off to my bedroom. I slam the door shut and slide to the floor. My body shakes as sobs rip through me and I climb onto my bed, pulling my knees to my chest, crying myself to sleep.
yEAH NEW SERIES!!!! this one is going to contain a shit ton of drama. no one’s gonna be happy and it’ll be awesome. you’ll shoot me, but it’ll be awesome. and there’s gonna be a love triangle with a very over looked avenger ;))) send me asks of who you think it’ll be!!!
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