oh shit! it's marvel

anyway i think I’m a DC stan now so that’s what Wonder Woman did to me

Don’t Look At Her Ch2.

Originally posted by wintersthighs

Word count: 646 (sorry it’s so short, I wanted to get it out today, but I’m hoping the next parts are longer. I think it’s gonna be a long ‘un.

Warnings: Bucky being a bitch, angst, language but that’s usual with me

Tagging: @hello-hotcakes @mrshopkirk @obsessedtmifangirl @yuhkii-kaze @somewereinthegalaxi @creideamhgradochas (sorry if it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’ll message you ^^) 

lemme know if you wanna be tagged/untagged

Bucky x reader

Part one

Keep reading

Don’t Look At Her. Ch1.

Originally posted by tonyloki

Word Count: 1369

This is the first part of DLAH. I know I said it was going to be a one shot, but I lied 

Unbetaed (sorry if there are errors)

Waning/triggers: swearing, Hydra.

Bucky x reader

Tagging: @obsessedtmifangirl @yuhkii-kaze @bovaria @creideamhgradochas (please let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged

Previously working for Hydra, you were brainwashed into believing that they were dedicated to make the world a better place, a new world and future. A disposable soldier, but one of the world’s greatest assassins ever seen. Sure, you weren’t proud of your past, but everyone knew that you could kick ass.

It was Stark that found you. It all happened when they were send on a mission to one of the Hydra bases, just to make sure it was empty. You were in your cell at the time, which consisted of three reinforced concrete walls, a swing door with iron bars, and a scratchy blanket to either lay on or sleep under. You were curled up in a ball, lips blue and teeth chattering as you were pressed against the cold and dirty concrete, trying to make yourself disappear in the shadows. You took pride in being a strong and incredibly skilled assassin, but at the moment, you hadn’t been allowed food in almost a week, but even so, your strong built-up figure jumped at footsteps creeping towards your isolated cell in who-knows-where.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up, reaching behind you to try and find a plank of wood that you hid under your blanket weeks ago. Of course your handlers wouldn’t allow you to keep a gun in your cell - that would basically be a death penalty for them… if you weren’t brainwashed. A clank at the end of your long, narrow cell indicated that the door had been unlocked, and a creak indicated a potential attacker opening it. Your bare feet silent started padding towards the noise, making sure to stay within the shadows of the wall. You were dressed in the bare minimum, dressed in only a thin and ripped black tank top and a pair of equally torn black combat trousers.

A silhouette of a metal human shaped body appeared in the doorway, blocking all escape routes, trapping you in.

‘Nothing in here.’ A voice was heard coming from the bot-like shape. And with that, you lunged at the metal armour, swinging your plank of wood at the neck.


Tony turned around in shock, looking with surprise at the thing that just clubbed him around the neck. Before you could attack him again, he hastily spoke into earpiece again

‘I take it back, there’s someone here, but I should be able to deal with it…’ and before he had the opportunity to make a snide remark, you grabbed his helmet and twisted it off of him, simultaneously kicking his knee caps. Quickly regretting your hurried decision, you groaned at the impact of metal on your sensitive feet, stumbling back into the flickering white lights.

Tony chuckled to himself, as he finally saw you for the first time clearly. You looked up and glared daggers at him, but refraining from lashing out at him, realising that he would easily overpower you. Pick your battles, you thought to yourself.

‘So you’re the famous Y/N, I take it?’ he smirked, inching cautiously towards you, his brows raised.

‘Fuck. You. Metal guy’ you spat at him, yet standing your ground. Your stomach growled, a tune that you were used to hearing, a painful siren that your body was getting weaker by the second.

‘Hey! That’s not very nice, that hurts’ He pouted, pretending to sniff. ‘Anywho, all fun and games aside, you should come with us…we have food’

You growled at him and lunged, fist clenched and meeting neatly with his eye. You heard your heart thump in your chest, and you fell down at his feet, hunger finally beating you down.

You vaguely remember the man sighing gently, taking on a different demeanour from just seconds ago, and then bending down to pick you up. He tenderly carried your semi unconscious form back to a quinjet, just to place you on a seat before you were out completely.

The sounds of a heart rate monitor rudely awoke you from your deep sleep. A man with blond hair and a grey t-shirt which looked like it was going to pop off from his incredibly defined form sat on the hospital-like bed before you.

You raised your eyebrows at him, before looking over to the machine as it gave a particular loud beep.

‘Am I flatlining?’ you mused to no one in particular, crashing your head back down onto the feathery pillow,  a piercing headache throbbing in your skull. The blond man chuckled.

‘Nope, we were just making sure that you’re okay. That’s all.’ He handed you two pills, which you swallowed dry, and groaned again.

‘How long have I been here?’ you asked again, strangely not feeling threatened, nor the urge to run away. You were comfy, and as much as you didn’t trust the guy, you weren’t in the position to move, nor did you want to.

‘About four hours’

‘Oh’ you mumbled, slightly disappointed that you weren’t there for longer; you didn’t know why though. Your stomach moaned from deep inside you, making you grimace.

‘You must be famished… stay right here and I’ll bring you something to eat, Y/N’  The man stood up, as if to leave, and started to stride towards the door.

You rolled your eyes and chucked dryly, ‘well it doesn’t look like I’m moving anywhere fast, does it?’

The man let out a sympathetic laugh. ‘I guess not… My name is Steve Rogers by the way, nice to meet you.’ He gave you a wink and slipped out of the door.

Oh. Captain America.

By now, you weren’t in a destructive manner. You weren’t feeling aggressive towards the Avengers, just grateful that they didn’t kill you. After a substantial meal, members were walking freely into the hospital wing, introducing themselves. Within a few hours, you had become fairly well acquainted with the two women Natasha and Wanda. They talked to you for hours about their background and listening to you opening up about your equally bloody past. Clint introduced himself as he was also down at the wing getting stitches in his side after a particularly brutal run in with a murderous civilian. Sam dropped by to say hi on his way to the gym, and Steve was constantly walking in and out, checking on you every ten minutes or so. It seemed that the only person that you hadn’t met personally was James Barnes. You knew of him, of course. You’d worked with him once before on a mission back in his Winter Soldier days. Dispatch and no witnesses was what Hydra seemed to go by, and your eyes had only just opened to that in the few short hours with Nat. Steve spoke fondly of Bucky, and was convinced that you’d get along incredibly well, after countlessly telling you that they were best friends, which, of course you knew. But it didn’t seem that you’d be getting any visits from him any time soon. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, but it disappointed you a little, as you wanted someone else to be able to relate to, to talk to.

It was three days before Steve deemed you well enough to let you out of bed, but on the condition that your heart rate was monitored closely. This pissed you off a bit, as you were about to grab your boots and walk out to continue your life as a civilian. From a young age, all you ever wanted was to find a loving man and settle down with him. This was before hydra brainwashed you into destruction. There was still no sign of James Barnes.

It was three weeks before Steve deemed you healthy enough to have your own quarters at the compound. But this was on one condition - that you were chaperoned as often as possible. And as much as Nat asked to be around you 24/7, ‘life of the party’ Steve had made up his mind; James Buchanan Barnes was nominated to follow your every move for at least two weeks. ‘Just to make sure you were entirely better’

You did not like this idea at all.

James Buchanan Barnes did not like this idea at all.