Don’t Touch Her (Wade Wilson Award)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Notes: Here is the last Bucky award request. I only have two more award requests left after this one, a Steve one and a Thor one. Anyway look out for those, enjoy! Thankyou to my beta readers: @nerdgirl78 and @supernatural-pants.
HYDRA was very good at stamping out any light in the world. That was all they did. Took something beautiful and pure and broke it down until it was twisted and dark. They seemed to take joy in destruction, and that was exactly how they created their most prized possession. Darkness was all the broken soldier knew. It seemed to encompass his entire being, blackening his soul and shadowing his every move. Wherever he went, darkness would soon follow. However, there was a small beam of light in his otherwise dark world. You. You’d been brought to HYDRA a few months ago, after they discovered your powers of telepathy and mind control. Apparently, they believed you to be of some use to them, so they took you in the dead of night and threw you into a cell in what looked like an old abandoned bank vault.
The first time you met the soldier, two guards came in with his arms slung over their shoulders, dragging him along as his chestnut hair fell over his face in waves. Pushing yourself back into the corner, you stared out at the new people in the room, frowning as you heard only static from the brunette’s mind. “The director is on his way.” One of the guards barked in Russian, barely glancing in your direction as they dropped the soldier on the cot and marched out of the room. In the silence that followed, you could hear the laboured breathing of the soldier, watching as his broad chest rose and fell as he struggled to catch his breath. Shifting your weight, you noticed the piercing grey eyes of the brunette snap over in your direction, fear clear in his gaze. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” You whispered, knowing exactly what he was thinking despite your powers not working on his frazzled brain. Brow furrowing in confusion, the soldier pushed himself back against the wall, looking a lot like a startled animal. Suddenly, the steel door crashed open, causing you both to jump back. A tall, greying man strode in, flanked either side by an armed guard. “Soldier.” The man spoke, raising his chin as the soldier jumped to attention. Eyes flickering down to you, you noticed the quirk of the imposing man’s lips as you glared back. “And hello to you too sweetheart.” He cooed, squatting slightly to be closer to your eye level. Snarling, you went to move towards him, before being struck with an electrical baton, leaving you curled up on the ground, whimpering in pain. “Enough.” The greying man barked, standing back up to his full height and gesturing for the guards to back off, “We need Miss L/N’s cooperation, in some… sensitive matters.” The man spoke, the order clear in his tone.
After your first meeting with the Winter Soldier, you quickly learned that Pierce’s intentions were for you to further improve their mind wiping system, ultimately taking control of the soldier’s mind and cementing his place as HYDRA’s puppet. However, you weren’t planning on just complying to their wishes. You’d been kept in the dark cell with the soldier for what seemed like weeks, but was more likely only days, and despite the fact that he hadn’t spoken a word to you, you refused to be the person to take away his last shreds of humanity. Of course, refusing to adhere to HYDRA’s demands did not come without its consequences. Every few hours either Pierce or one of his cronies would march in and drag you out, subjecting you to beatings and various other methods of torture, trying to make you break. But you refused. Retreating into your mind and trying to close yourself off to the agonizing pain they were administering.
What seemed like hours of torture later, two guards dragged you back into the cell, dropping you unceremoniously onto the hard floor and quickly retreating. Whimpering softly in pain, you tried to stay as still as possible, as not to strain any of your new injuries. Too focused on the pain tearing through your body, you didn’t notice the dark haired soldier move from his place on the cot, and make his way towards your slumped form. “They hurt you…” The soldier murmured, his voice hoarse from disuse. Startling slightly at the sound of his voice, you groaned as another flash of pain ripped through you. “Yes, they did.” You choked out, eyes locking with the soldiers confused grey ones. “Why didn’t you… just do what they asked…” He spoke softly, dropping down to his knees by your side, finger ghosting over your injuries, as if testing for any more serious damage. “You don’t know what they want me to do.” You whispered, cringing as his fingers touch a particularly deep cut. “They want you to take control of my mind.” He said matter-of-factly, a crease forming in his brow. Nodding, you frowned at his acceptance of the fact. “Yes, they do, don’t you understand why that’s wrong?” You asked, pushing yourself up slightly so you were closer to eye level. Shaking his head, the soldier just opened and closed his mouth as if trying to form words. “I’m not gonna do it, no matter what they do.” You whispered, your eye sight going a bit blurry as the pain finally caught up to you. With a shake of his head, the soldier hooked his one flesh, and one metal, arms beneath you, moving you over to the cot and placing you down gently. With a watery smile, you traced the outline of the soldier’s jaw, watching his eyes flicker down to where your hand touched his skin. “Sleep.” He murmured, turning away from your touch and taking a seat on the floor, facing the door in a guard like fashion.
You and the soldier quickly formed an unlikely friendship, if you could call it that. Every time you were brought back from whatever torture they decided to inflict that day, he would scoop you up from wherever the guards had dumped you and place you gently on the cot. He would then check your injuries and make sure they weren’t too intensive. Over time, he started putting up more of a fuss when they would try to take you away, standing in between you and the guards, and even occasionally lashing out. Of course, this didn’t go down particularly well with the heads of HYDRA. The torture only got worse when they did manage to get you out of the cell, actively trying to make you suffer now, instead of just trying to get you to do their bidding. After a particularly nasty set of beatings, a guard you now knew as Rumlow, dragged you back into the room and dropped you just inside the door. “Here’s your bitch back, Soldier.” He spat, retreating as soon as the soldier started stalking towards him. “It’s getting worse.” The soldier growled, picking you up carefully and cradling you against his hard chest. Only able to let out a small whimper in reply, you gripped onto his black vest, the bite of the material against your fingers distracting you only slightly from the pain in the rest of your body. Laying you on the cot, the soldier took a seat by your head, letting your fingers curl in his brown hair. “When are you gonna give in Doll.” The soldier murmured, knees pulled up to his chest. “Never.” You said forcefully, linking your fingers with his. Sighing he just shook his head disapprovingly. “You’re the only one I can remember who’s never tried to get in my head, even though you had the biggest chance to.” He whispered, thumb running over your knuckles.
The next time Rumlow swaggered into the room everything felt different, you were still weak from your previous beating and you could barely move. Sensing your dread, the soldier practically jumped up from his position on the floor, snarling at Rumlow like a wild animal. “Stand down.” Rumlow scoffed, arms folded across his chest. “No.” The soldier retorted, for the first time speaking up against one of the guards. “No?” Rumlow parroted, confusion clear on his face. “Do. Not. Touch. Her.” The soldier growled, metal arm shielding you from Rumlow. Retrieving his radio from his side, Rumlow quickly ordered for back up, just as the soldier launched himself in his direction. The two grappled for a minute, before what seemed like hundreds of other guards stormed in, some pinning the soldier down by his arms and legs, while a few others forced you to your feet and hauled you out. As you were being dragged from the room, to the sounds of guard’s yelps and the soldier’s grunts, you heard Rumlow sneer, “Wipe him.”