tied agent

cassandraverner  asked:

fluff week prompt! red team gets sarge something for father's day as a joke.

They couldn’t decide whether a Hawaiian shirt or a novelty tie would make a better Dad Gift™ so they compromised.

so which one of you is the supervillain and which is the secret agent being tied up and tortured in a homoerotic manner by the supervillain

Valuable Asset - One-shot - (Steve x Reader)

Originally posted by recordshopchris

Summary: As the weapons and tech member of the Avengers Y/N stays at the compound. When the team leaves to take out a Hydra base they find out it was a distraction set up by Hydra to infiltrate the compound and take Y/N.

A/N: This was requested by @borderline-person a while back. Sorry it took me so long to finish writing it, you can blame my writer’s block for that, and I hope you like it. 

Request: It’s a steve x reader, where reader is an amazing techy/weapon agent that helps the avengers during missions behind the computers, one mission the avengers are raising a hydra base but turns out to be a decoy/distraction cos hydra just really wants to kidnap the reader for her skills and the avengers are super worried especially steve but when they got back they found out the reader fought all the enemies and they are suprised that she is great at fighting too, sorry if you found it weird haha, it’s up to you how you wanna go from this and thank you so much!!!

“Everything is looking good on this end,” I tell the team as I scan the monitors in front of me.

“Are you sure this is the place Fury told you about,” Nat asked.

“Yes,” I frown. “Why?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Steve said.

“Tony is your suit glitching,” I ask looking at the monitor that showed me a feed coming from his suit.

“No,” Tony said.

“I don’t get it,” I say as my fingers flew across the keyboard in front of me. “There seems to be no heat signatures coming from inside the building.”

“I’m getting the same thing,” Sam said and I turned to look at the monitor showing me Red Wing’s feed.

“Guys stay on your toes,” I tell them. “I’m going to get Fury on the line.”

“Y/N,” Fury answers.

“Fury, where did your source get the coordinates to the hydra base you sent me,” I ask him.

“What coordinates,” he asked.

“The ones you sent me this morning.”

“I never sent you any coordinates,” he said making me worry.

“Fury, I’m going to have to call you back,” I say ending the call.

I pull up the message I had received that morning. I quickly run a tracer on the message and let out a few curse when I finished.

“Guy’s,” I say slowly. “That message didn’t come from Fury.”

“Who sent it,” Steve asked.


“It’s a trap,” Tony said.

“No,” I breathe. “It’s a distraction.”

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Creepypasta #1108: (Nothing But) Flowers

Length: Short

Everyone was happy. That’s what gave me the weird feeling in my gut. People are never happy for more than a few days at a time. Maybe a week. After that, they create friction for themselves if something doesn’t show up. If their family life is fine, they look at work; if work is fine, they turn to the national picture. With the alt-right recently re-elected to the White House, it wasn’t hard to find political strife. Trip over your shoelace in even the smallest town and someone’s accusing you of being a “Dumbocrat” or a member of the American Nazi Party.

But Twitter’s circle-jerk of deplorables had shut up. Tumblr’s extreme social leftists had quieted down. Both sides had only one message: Peace.

In no time, the gun debate had evaporated in a cloud of apathy. Some gave their weapons away. Those who liked the way they looked or felt on their hip kept them but never loaded them. A group of drunk Border Patrol agents tied part of the fence to a dump truck and pulled it down. They drank with the locals that night.

“Worldwide Utopia” was the headline on the last issue of the New York Times. They didn’t go out of business per se, but people simply stopped coming in to report the news. They would rather attend the all day (and all night) music festivals in Central Park, all genres of music welcome.

Prison gates clicked open and stayed that way. All prisons. Even Guantanamo. The inmates tore off their orange jumpsuits and ate handful after handful of free street tacos from local vendors.

Someone, probably a DJ on one of those niche Sirius channels, started playing that Talking Heads song (Nothing but) Flowers on repeat. The last time I saw a Billboard chart, it was at Number 1. It became our anthem.

And it started to come true. We did tear sown shopping malls to replace them with fields of daisies. We turned Howitzers, anti-aircraft guns, and tanks into planters filled to brimming with fruiting plants and herbs. We took sledgehammers to our houses of law; we didn’t need them. There was no more murder, no more violence. Just peace.

Even those of us who didn’t feel the worldwide tug of brotherly affection didn’t resort to violence. Maybe it did affect us a little. Maybe we could have knocked the rose-colored glasses from society’s nose if we bloodied our hands.

Instead, we connected on the Internet, talked, theorized, planned. Was this heaven, the result of some Tranhumanist designer happiness virus, a massive shared hallucination?

One of us, some guy in India, noticed a couple NASA satellites returning wonky results. We could see them through live feeds; hundreds of saucer-shaped ships. Thousands.

When they landed, humanity put up no resistance. They had pacified us too well. Even if we tried, all our defenses had become grain silos and orchards.

There aren’t many of us left.

Credits to: OsoBrazos

anonymous asked:

What do you think of slowbeef theorizing that pewdiepie is just trying to "get out of a contract" rather than just pointing out the blatant anti semitism and back pedaling.

I don’t know the terms of Pewdpie’s contracts with Disney and YouTube, so it’s hard to speculate. I suppose it’s possible he may think he can create more value for himself as a free agent than tied to Disney and put behind a paywall on YouTube (one which no one I know pays for or even talks about), and so he’s sabotaging the partnership.

But based on his history I find it a lot more likely that Pewdiepie is just going back to his old ways. While the anti-semitic content is a recent development, his humor has always relied extensively on making crass remarks about people being grievously hurt. Once you think rape is funny, I suppose it’s not such a jump to think that genocide is funny, and I imagine neither subject is one Pewdiepie has ever had to seriously think about.

If you’ll recall the retsupurae video about Pewdiepie actually stirred up a real furor about the rape jokes to the point where he actually lost a sponsor. Do you remember the video he posted to make amends? It was one of the most insincere and condescending apologies I’ve ever seen. Felix’s need to be crass and offensive seemingly trumps his desire for money, so from the day he started associating with “respectable” media something like this was probably bound to happen.

Rucas Adult AU - The Agent and the Hitman

The Agent and the Hitman

Rucas adult au one-shot

This is a short one-shot, about 7,100 words. Maybe one day when I don’t have a million other things to write I’ll come back to this. Well depending on the response I get. If people like it I’ll rewrite the whole thing and put in Lucas’ perspective, as well as everything else I wanted to put into it but couldn’t because I have ideas forming for my other fics right now.

This story was inspired by a conversation I had with @katdvs it’s not a complete story, just an idea

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Hold on Tight - Tony Stark x Reader

Anonymous said: Can you do 28 and 14 with tony pleeeease!!

A/N: I made it kinda angsty cause I’m awful but also kinda fluff? lol I’m sorry, hope you enjoy.

14. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

28. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Warnings: injury, blood, fighting, minor violence, getting shot

Your boots made no noise as you walked along the concrete floors of the HYDRA compound. The team had found out HYDRA was experimenting on people in this facility and had infiltrated to get them out. 

Since HYDRA facilities are basically mazes and filled with tons of enemy agents, you snuck in while your team waited outside to get to the control room and guide your teammates to the prisoners from there.

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Cocytus Water

Cocytus is one of five rivers that runs through the realm of Hades. Known as the river of wailing, this river joins into Acheron, the river of sorrow, fairly early in the underworld.

Cocytus spell water can be used to draw noise. This can be used to quiet a room or busy mind. It can also be used to create jumbling and confusion, and discomfort.

*Not for Ingestion*

  • nails, screws, little metal bits that make unpleasant sounds when shaken together
  • Cicada husks or Dead Crickets
  • Grave dirt (Note! It is illegal to take dirt from a public graveyard. So, if you are being totally legal about this, it can be dirt from where you buried a dead pet once, or something similar. Buuuut, if you want to grab graveyard dirt I won’t stop you)
  • Clear Alcohol (everclear, rubbing alcohol, ect…)

Metal bits are in there for shaking up and making noise. The wails from Cocytus are supposed to be unbearable, so go with something that produces a sound you hate. This could actually be switched out for a chunk of chalkboard and some finger nail clippings, or that really annoying kazuu your kid brother has. But something that would really get on your nerves and make you want to pull your hair out if you had to listen to it constantly.

Cicada husks, dead crickets, dead hissing cockroaches….these things are incessant in their sound, and they make a lot of peoples skin crawl. Cocytus is an never ending cry, there is ALWAYS sound coming from it, and to me that is super creepy. So the creepy aspect of the bug is just as important as the fact that they’re noisy little buggers.

Grave dirt is the binding agent that ties this one to the underworld because graveyards and graves are quiet. Death is quiet. At least, the living perceive it that way. 

Combine your ingredients, charge, and let set for three nights. The night before the new moon, the new moon, and the night after. Strain out the solid bits, store in a dark bottle, and you’re good to go. you’ve got wailing water to use for spell purposes.

And here are the links for all five rivers (current post included)

  • Acheron-River of Woe (personally associated with Air)
  • Cocytus-River of Wailing (personally associated with Earth)
  • Lethe-River of Forgetfulness (personally associated with Water)
  • Phlegethon-River of Fire (personally associated with Fire)
  • Styx-River of Hate (personally associated with Spirit)
Hello Detective Chapter 58 (Sherlock imagine)


Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15   Part 16   Part 17   Part 18   Part 19   Part 20   Part 21   Part 22   Part 23   Part 24   Part 25   Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29 Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33   Part 34   Part 35   Part 36   Part 37   Part 38   Part 39   Part 40      Part 41   Part 42   Part 43   Part 44   Part 45   Part 46   Part 47   Part 48   Part 49  Part 50   Part 51  Part 52   Part 53    Part 54  Part 55   Part 56  Part 57 Part 58 Part 59  Part 60  Part 61

“Mycroft I…” You spoke as you walking into his office before abruptly stopping.

“…one of the best I’ve had in years.” You heard the end of a conversation that stopped as you entered the room.

“M? Sir.. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” You stuttered, seeing your boss standing next to Mycroft’s desk. There was tension in the air and it made you uneasy.

“Well I hope you’ve enjoyed your brief vacation 009 but I’m afraid it will have to be cut short.” M began, you looked to Mycroft and he had his head down, clearly stressed.

“May I ask why?” You asked, approaching the desk.

“It’s a matter of extreme discretion, but one of our men has gotten himself in a little over his head and we need you to extract him.” M said, and you nodded, hoping for him to continue.

“He’s been deep undercover for some time now, so we can’t give you many details about his appearance as they would have changed frequently. We can tell you where he is expected to be, and that he has been going under the name Sergei Romanov. We suspect he’s being held in a military prison camp off the grid in Serbia.” M informed you.

“You’d risk two agents for him? What’s so important about this guy?” You asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“He’s an expert in his field and we’re getting intel on an imminent terror attack in London that we need him on. And we’re not risking two agents, just one.” M corrected you, and you raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to do this alone? I just assumed Bass would be working with me, I mean we’ve worked together on nearly every case over the last year or so.” You stated.

“I trust you, and Mycroft trusts you. Plus I believe you speak Serbian, that might speed up the process. Now, Mycroft has your passports and other paperwork you might need. I’ve got to run, I’ve got a meeting with the Home Secretary.” M said, nearing the door and you nodded.

“Oh and 009,” he stopped and you turned to face him, “thank you and good luck.”

He spoke cryptically and you turned back to Mycroft with a brow raised after M closed the door.

“He says that like I’m not coming back.” You joked lightly.

“You’re not. Well not to MI6 at least.” Mycroft said, gathering some papers at his desk.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, shock.

Mycroft slid another file towards you, and you flipped it open to find a passport and other official documents. You opened it expecting to see a made up name, and were taken aback when the name you saw was your own… on a British passport.

“What is this?” You asked.

“Your citizenship. I had to pull a few strings, you haven’t met the required live in time but I think it will come over better if the Secret Service’s new Director General is at least a legal citizen.” He cracked a small smile.

“You want me to run MI5?” You asked, not thinking he was serious.

“Well it’s more of an assistant position, a figure head. I run it but as far as the public is concerned you would be the one calling the shots. I know what you’re thinking, and yes you are ready for this. It’s time you take that step forward in your career, stop selling yourself short. You’re capable of much more, and quite frankly we need you. I need you.” Mycroft said.

“What about the agent extraction?” You asked.

“The position becomes effective upon your return. Now Mallory mentioned the matter of your discretion. Agent 007 is to be kept ‘out of the loop’ so to speak.” He said.

“I can’t believe this… I came here to talk to you about–” He cut you off.

“Kitty Riley, yes she’s been taken care of. She’s been paid a meaningful sum and will serve her purpose as you step into your next role. She’s been moved to the Times where upon your arrive back into London she will write a story about your new appointment and convince the public of your capabilities. She’s no longer a problem. But… I do have to ask–” Mycroft began and it was your turn to cut him off.

“About Bass.” You answered or him and he nodded. “There’s nothing going on between us. I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

You took a deep breath and signed before continuing.

“He stood right here and said that sentiment was a chemical defect found on the losing side. It’s just taken some time for me to realize that he was right. Don’t worry Mycroft. I’m not the same girl I was when I was with him. I work and I work and I work. It’s what I do and I’m good at it, and I don’t let anything else or anyone else get in my way.” You said coldly and he nodded, handing you your extraction file.

“Good luck, I await your return.” He nodded, and you got to work.

Once you returned home you found that Bass was gone, and you began planning out your mission. You would have to infiltrate their ranks to the highest levels… that would take a few weeks tops. After that it should be a breeze to find this ‘Sergei Romanov’, but getting him out might prove a harder feat. MI6 had a safe house a couple miles out in the woods from the Serbian hideout, so if you could get him there in one piece you would be home free.

That night your brother called you and informed you that he, his wife, and two year old son would be coming to London on business and wanted to see you. You told him that you would be away for a few weeks for work, but offered them your flat to stay in for the time they were there. Apparently his wife was interviewing with a firm in London that she had been pursuing since their discharge from the military.

The next morning you visited Q in the lab to pick up some equipment before you left. Last night you had cut your hair, and felt like a new woman. Strange how little things like that can make you feel so different.

You were able to say goodbye to Bass before you left, and he promised you that if you got into too much trouble he’d come bail you out.

You stuck to your plan and within two and a half weeks had infiltrated the ranks of the Serbian office. It was actually easier than you expected, just shoot some nobody in front of everyone and they’ll know you mean business. They realized it was easier to have you working for them than against them. Each time they got stir crazy and there were whispers of over throwing you, we repeat the process.

By the third week you had access to prisoner logs.

“Vladimir!” You called your new assistant into your new office. He rushed in, bowing slightly. They really were terrified of you. Plus you had given them some seemingly brilliant terrorism plans. Though they didn’t know that all of them had loopholes that would take the targeted government seconds to crack and take down. You were dismantling them from the inside out.

“Дајте ми овај месец затвореника дневник.” You growled. Get me this month’s prisoner log.

“Да мадам. Одмах.” Yes ma’am. Right away. He scattered out of the room, soon to return and handed you the file. You ripped it from his hand and began to flip through it before landing on the name Romanov, S. Though it didn’t have a cell number on it. He was being tortured, most likely for the information he had.

“Таке ме овде.” You instructed, pointing to the file. Take me here. He nodded and complied.

You soon found yourself sitting in the torture chamber as the agent was tied by his wrists and whipped for information. You had to wade in, but you needed to get rid of his torturer first. You could simply order him out, but you needed to increase the window of time he would be gone and lower suspicion. Though you had to act fast, ‘Sergei’ wouldn’t last much longer.

His hair was past his shoulders, curls. His face was covered and his back was scarred.

You opened your mouth to speak, but heard the soft, pained, whispers of ‘Sergei’ instead. The guard grabbed his hair and leaned closer.

“Шта?” What?

“Па, шта је рекао?” You asked with an authoritative tone. Well, what did he say?

“He said that I used to work in the navy… where I had an unhappy love affair. That the electricity isn’t working in my bathroom… and that my wife is sleeping with our next door neighbour. The coffin maker… and if I go home now I’ll catch them at it. I knew it!” He yelled in Serbian, storming out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. How could he possibly know all that?

“You have no idea the trouble it took to find you. My apologies for not interviewing faster, but you seemed to have this under control, Mr. Sergei Romanov. You must be pretty important for M to send a double 0 to extract you.” You spoke, and he shivered as if he hadn’t noticed you in the room.

You stood and neared him, beginning to speak.

“There’s an underground terrorist network active in London, M worries an attack is imminent, apparently you’re the man for the job–” You spoke as you walked toward him and stopped short when you reached your hand to lift his chin until your eyes met.

You gasped and physically stumbled backwards.

“Y/N?” The voice asked in a gruff tone.

“Sherlock?” You whispered.

You were so angry that you pulled your arm back, ready to hit him, but dropped it and covered your mouth at the sight of his battered and bruised body. You unconsciously moved to untie his arms, and his body collapsed onto you. You held him and helped him stand. You followed out our meticulous plan and got him to the safehouse.

The two of you hadn’t spoken a word. Frankly you didn’t know what to say. You wanted to be angry, but clearly this time hasn’t been kind to him.

You lit the fire of the freezing safehouse and put a kettle on the stove. He sat on the couch, staring into the fire, a blanket wrapped around him. You grabbed the first aid kit from your supplies and sat next to him. You reached for his shoulder to pull back the blanket and tend to his wounds but he flinched.

“Sorry.” You whispered.

He turned to face you, a face you had nearly forgotten but had haunted your every sunny day.

You handed him a cup and some powerful painkillers. He took them gently, and allowed you to examine his wounds, you didn’t think he had any internal injuries, but the external ones were going to be painful and take time to heal.

“Please say something.” He spoke.

“I don’t know what to say, Sherlock.” You said and his name left your mouth with an unnatural feeling, it brought back every painful memory of the past two years.

“You know why I did it. To protect you, and John, and Mrs. Hudson, and Greg. All of them.” He pleaded for your understanding.

“I know. I just wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me your plan. A plan that changed my life too. A plan that affected me.” You argued.

“You didn’t know?” He asked.

“How the fuck would I have known? You jumped off a building! I spoke at your funeral! I visited your grave!” You yelled.

“Mycroft was supposed to tell you. He told me you knew, that’s why we used your flat as a bolthole for the first few days before I was sent out.” Sherlock argued.

“He never told me. He took me into his house, he took care of me. I didn’t know you were there, I would have wanted to see you before you left.” You said, a tear slipping down your cheek. That hadn’t happened in a while.

“I thought you were angry with me, it made leaving that much harder. But I had to do it, I had to dismantle Moriarty’s network.” He said.

You stood and walked towards the small kitchen. You didn’t know what to think. Your whole world had been turned upside down again. You placed both hands on the counter and hung your head, taking a deep breath.

Sherlock had followed you into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what those two years must have been like for you.” He said, his compassion and sympathy was shocking.

“You’re right, you don’t know, and you’ll never understand.” You shook your head.

“You said M sent a double 0 to extract me. Is that who you’re working for now? MI6?” He asked.

“I quit working at the Yard after you… left. And I visited my family, then I came back and I… it was a dark time for me. I fell into some dark habits and Mycroft pulled me out. He promised me a job if I sobered up and got clean. I trained and worked and at the time that was all I could do. I killed people, Sherlock. And I liked it. I’m not the same person you left two years ago, so please don’t pretend that I am.” You cried. You saw him motion to console you but you flinched away.

“Uh, there’s food in the fridge. We leave at 5 tomorrow morning, I’m going to try to sleep.” You pointed to the bedroom and he nodded. You awkwardly left the room.

You laid in bed thinking, staring at the ceiling for hours. You couldn’t sleep. Thoughts were running through your head. What was wrong with you? This was supposed to be the man of your dreams. This was your second chance. This was all you had wanted for the last two years, what was the matter?

A scream jolted you up in bed. You rushed out to the living room, gun in hand and found Sherlock asleep on the couch. He was shaking, screaming and tears were streaming down this cheeks. He looked so young and innocent, like a child. You placed your gun on the table and knelt next to him, gently shaking him awake.

“Y/N?” His eyes grew wide as he finally came to.

“It’s okay, just a nightmare.” You touched his arm gently.

He looked around confused for a few moments before focusing his eyes back on you.

“Sorry to wake you.” He said in a husky sleep deprived voice.

“I was up. Why don’t you take the bed, try to get a few hours in before we have to go?” You asked, helping him to his feet and leading him to the bedroom where he collapsed onto the bed. As you moved to close the door behind you on your way out you heard him call out to you.

“Please stay Y/N.” He said, and maybe it was exhaustion or stupidity but you crawled into bed next to him. You were so tired that your eyelids were too heavy for you to handle.

“I’m sorry for everything.” Sherlock whispered as you fell asleep.

“Me too.” You muttered before slipping into oblivion.

Tag list Hello Detective : @missmotherhen @castielgirl21 @buckybarnesslut @getmaximoffmyblog @haeminhee @cherryarchangel @foureyedsiopao @presidentmaggie @batgurl32467 @kumpmk @thegalaxybabyz @smol-flower-kiddo @captain-sherlockomg @unicornlaz @gonnamurderyou @phoebysthename @nattiebug10 @emmitje @evee2001 @dekahg @thecrazyhatwoman @meredith9811 @star-incandescent  @thiscuriouslymiss @icanthandleallthesebooks @suvikamahes98blr @vaultingphilosophy

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!


This is for an anon request for a Requiem AU:  Starts at Requiem- Scully is taken and pregnant and it’s Mulder looking for her again.

Read part One  part Two  part Three part Four



He can see her, can feel her shape against him, can smell her body, taste her sweetness. But she is not there. It has been several months now but he is not used to the lack of her. He starts to call her name, looks over his shoulder for her, waits for her admonishment, her support, her soft laugh, her warm kiss. He is waiting, waiting all the time.

              Skinner sits in the seat and slides a coffee towards him. His meaty fingers grip his own mug. The fluoro above is unkind, shining off his head. Mulder stares at the liquid in front of him. He is suddenly so tired that he could sleep for days, head on the formica table top, sugar granules digging into his face.

              “Agent Mulder, you were due to report to Violent Crimes this morning. Your supervisor was expecting you at 8am.”

              The words are delivered with precision, cut out from a phone call Skinner had no doubt received earlier from Bullen in VC. Where the fuck is Mulder? You gave me your word he’d be no trouble. I’ve got plenty of other talented guys waiting for their chance. Your spooky prima donna fuck-up isn’t going to swan around and waste my time.


              “I can’t do it, sir. I can’t give up like that.”

              Skinner sighs. “Nobody’s asking you to give up, Mulder, but the case has gone cold. You know there’s nothing more I can do. My hands are tied. Agent Scully will remain listed as missing and if any new leads come up then a taskforce may be assembled to investigate. But you can no longer just head off on a whim whenever a UFO is reported over the skies of Illinois or Florida or Wyoming. It’s just not going to be sanctioned any more.”

              The vinyl seat squeaks under him. His elbows press into the table top and he leans his forehead on his open palms. His skin is greasy. “I need more time. Scully needs more time.” A crash of crockery from the kitchen startles him. He lifts his head. “We all owe her that.”

              “I know you and Agent Scully shared a special bond, Mulder. And you know how much I respected…respect her. She was one of the best agents I’ve worked with. But the bureau will not give you special dispensation because you fell in love with your partner.”

              He lets out a bitter laugh. “Fuck you.”

His apartment is all shadows and ghosts. If he listens hard he can recall the sound of her, the way her clothes swished or her hairbrush sounded as she went through her morning routine, or the rhythm of her toothbrush, the soft pop as her lips opened to seek his, the sigh of her REM sleep.

              “Where are you, Scully?”

              I’m here, Mulder. You just have to know where to look.

              He blinks. Lifts the beer bottle to his lips. “I’ve looked everywhere. There’s no trace of the ship.”

              Look inside.

              The beer is warm and tastes fruity. He leans back against the couch, stares at the ceiling. The green light from the fish tank traces artful patterns. He makes a fist and smashes it against the arm, then places it against his chest.


              His heart beats quicker. He leans forward.


              “Here, Scully? Yes, here.” His fingers drum with his own pulse. He spreads them across his chest. Waits a few beats. Thinks of her face, the simple beauty of her. He drops his hand and slips in under his tee shirt, feeling up the line of hair to his belly button, higher across his chest. The skin is warmer there. Hot. “Right here, Scully. You’re right here. And I’m coming to get you.”

(If you're hurting) Lay it all on me

“Not now, Phil.” He heard her hard voice coming from the chair to his right. He could tell she was clenching her teeth; another sign she was trying to keep her emotions in check. She couldn’t fool him.

Also on AO3.

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They Can’t Get Us Anymore

Hey guys! I hope you all are having a wonderful day! Here’s a new one. Happy Friday! 

I’ve been meaning to get this one out of my system for a while now. Rewatching TWS and CW really gets me going because this Bucky stuff really hits me, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. We just love him so much and these scenes and his story are so heart wrenching. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. As always, if anybody wants to talk about anything I’m always here and my messages are open :)

Some things: 

Italics are a flashback from the mission that day.

(Y/N)-Your name


******WARNINGS****** Violence, enemy death, lots of angst, ends in comfort, this is dark so please be careful when deciding to read.

Summary: On a mission you do things that will change your life forever, only Bucky can comfort you.

Originally posted by amjeth

As a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, you were trained to remain calm in all situations because if you didn’t you would make rash decisions. Mistakes. You would put others in danger. And yourself. You always did what you were trained to do. But not today.

“Just strap in, okay? Drink this. We’ll be back in 20 minutes and then we’ll go down to the lab and stitch that up, okay?” Steve handed you a water bottle and clicked the strap of the seat for you.

You nodded.

“Alright.” His tone sounded defeated. Worried.

He walked over to the pilot’s seat in the jet, strapped in and prepared for take off. Once in the air, he messaged Bucky.

“Got it. Be back in 20. (Y/N)’s not so good. Meet us down in the lab.”

Your mind was a blank as you sat in the seat and waited.

Most of you were sent on the mission. It was a get in-get out situation that turned into a get in-take over-get what you need-get out situation.

Once the team was in the basement of the facility Natasha hacked into its main security system and closed the doors. No one could get in and no one could get out until S.H.I.E.L.D. had what they needed.

Clint, Sam, and Natasha took the east wing, you and Steve took the west. Your orders were clear and you were focused.

Until you stepped into that room.

You and Steve made your way down the hallway, he searched the rooms on the right, you the ones on the left. None of them had what you were looking for.

You stepped into the last room on the left, gun raised, muscles tensed, eyes like lasers.

Once you deemed the room clear, you turned on the light switch. You knew this room. You had seen it before. Your eyes searched for what was familiar, why this room meant something to you. You had never been here before.

Your search stopped when your eyes landed on that chair.

Your heart seemed to stop completely and then all at once, its beating sped to an unbelievable pace, your rushing blood roared in your ears. Adrenaline ran through your body, your gun shook in your hands, your knees wobbled.

Anger that you had never felt in your life ran through your veins. It rose in your chest, taking hold of your muscles and squeezing. You wanted nothing more than to kill everyone and everything responsible.

“Yeah, this is where we kept your friend.”

Steve clicked on the auto pilot and turned around in his seat to see you holding the still closed water bottle in your hands. You were staring at the ground, pieces of hair that escaped your ponytail hanging in your eyes.

His phone sounded. A message from Buck.

“Is she hurt”

Steve typed his reply. “Yes. Not too serious. She will need you when she figures out what she did.”

You spun around to see three HYDRA agents blocking your exit. The one who spoke had a wicked and disgusting grin on his face.

Steve found you just in time. You had been fighting off all three men at once. You had managed to get their guns away from them, but of course they had other weapons.

In perfect sync, the two of you took the three agents down, but not before receiving a long, deep gash that spanned from your shoulder to your chest.  

“We need their information.” He told you as you tied the agents’ hands behind their backs.

You patiently waited for Steve to finish his interrogation with one of the agents.

The grinning man was in front of you on his knees. While Steve’s focus was elsewhere, he whispered to you, “You’ll never put him back together.”

Quicker than a bullet you slammed the butt of your gun across the grinning man’s face and watched him fall to the side. You yanked him upright by his hair. “Tell me where it is!” the voice you heard screaming didn’t sound like yours.

“(Y/N).” Steve looked at you with wide and unbelieving eyes.

Your dark eyes slid back down to the grinning man and you watched the red blood drip down his face.

Then you heard Sam in your ear. “We know where it is. Steve we need you in the east wing, third room on the right.”

“Stay here” Steve said with a look that said don’t do anything until I get back.

“Little dollface got left with us.” One of the other men spoke up.

“Maybe we should tell her all about how her little boyfriend begged for death when we put his brain in a blender.”

With a strong hand on your lower back, Steve led you out of the jet and into the lab. He sat you on the table and laid out some supplies while you absent mindedly unzipped your leather suit and pulled it off your shoulders and let it sit around your stomach.

There was a tense silence in the room as he wiped the blood off your skin. Steve was trying to think of what to say and just how to say it when he saw Bucky stand in front of the glass door. Steve had told him to wait until you were patched up to come in.

Steve had stitched up the team many times. Deep cuts were a regular occurrence with everyone else, but never with you. You were an agile fighter and level headed. You were never violent unless you had to be, and even then he hardly ever saw you use your gun. You were a great teammate, an even better fighter, you just always could get what you needed without seriously injuring anyone.

In your years on the team, this was the first time you had ever killed people. And judging by the way you stared at the unopened water bottle still in your hands, what you did hadn’t registered yet. And he knew when it did, it would hit you harder than a truck.

Steve covered the stitches with a bandage and gathered the dirty supplies.

“I’ll be right back.” He said with a hand on your shoulder.

He walked out of the lab and left Bucky standing by the door. Bucky willed his feet to move forward but just couldn’t make himself go in. He wasn’t sure what he could say.

He thought of the pain and guilt he feels from what he’d done as the Winter Soldier. He would never wish those feelings of despair on anyone, especially you. He killed people because he was forced to. He just couldn’t imagine you doing it by choice. He knew you to be so kind and gentle.

Steve’s absence left the air in the lab empty and still. And for the first time you thought about what you did.

“He used to beg us to kill him. What a blubbering idiot. Little baby Barnes would cry every time he killed someone, ‘member guys?”

“What a COWARD.”

“He’s a murderer. It’s only a matter of time until he kills you too.”

And something in you snapped. Like a rubber band being pulled too hard, something broke. Maybe it was your conscience.

You didn’t do it quickly. They didn’t deserve it. It was slow and agonizing. One by one you kicked and punched, watching droplets of blood fly and listening to their grunts turn into whines and screams.

When one passed out you moved onto the other.

All the while, Bucky’s screams echoed in your mind.

You came across the video of his torture at HYDRA before he became a part of the team. You just couldn’t understand how someone could come back from that. How someone could be anything but a ball of hatred, but he’s not. He became your dearest friend on the team.

Finally, one by one, you snapped their necks. Only when they were all dead did Bucky’s screams stop in your head.

As the third lifeless body hit the floor you picked up one of their weapons and aimed at the chair. When that gun ran out of ammo, you picked up another. They wouldn’t be able to do this to anyone else. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

As the ravaged chair fell to the floor in pieces, you felt Steve’s strong hands on you, pushing you out of the facility and into the jet.

Alone in the lab you finally noticed the blood. All over your hands and suit and face reminding you what you did.

The silence in the room allowed the screams in your mind to grow. Coward, coward, COWARD, COWARD, COWARD. Snap, Snap, Snap.

Your sobs leaned you forward too far on the table. Your feet missed the floor and your knees broke under you.

The second you fell you felt warm, strong arms and legs wrap around your body, making you feel small and safe for the first time that day. A familiar smell washed over you and even with your eyes screwed shut you knew who was there.

“Bucky” you sobbed out.

“I’m here, (N/N).”

“I hate them.”

“I know, (N/N), I know.”

He held you between his legs and pulled you close to his chest. His fingers ran through your hair and up and down your spine. He sushed your cries, always talking to you so you knew he was there.

You held his waist as tight as you physically could, the sobs wracking your body sent into his chest. You just wanted his body to absorb yours, to be a part of him so neither of you ever had to be alone again.

After your cries subsided Bucky felt your tense muscles relax. He continued to speak to you and run his hands over your body. Your face that had been glued to his chest finally surfaced for a short moment of eye contact.

Your face was red and wet with streams of tears, but it was your eyes that spoke to him. He saw that you would never be the same. You’ve seen things and done things that you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmares. And you’ll never forget it. He understood that.

But your eyes also told him that you were still his (N/N). Your irises were the same beautiful color and behind the tears, they still glistened. You would be okay.

After the quick moment, you leaned into the crook of his neck and he felt fresh tears run over his skin.

“We’re okay, (N/N), they can’t get us anymore.”



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