Hey girl! Hope you’re doing well!! I was thinking about a story where it’s set during catws and reader is part of hydra. She’s like a test subject there and a part of a program to create more super soldiers. Basically, she is pregnant with Bucky’s baby. Hydra used artificial insemination so it’s not like they have a relationship- yet. They do however form a camaraderie and mutual desire to escape hydra and hopefully save the life that was created in spite of all this. So during the fall of shield/hydra they escape and they’re on the run. It’s like how Bucky was on the run when Steve found in him in civil war except now he has a “wife” and a newborn daughter. They’re dealing with her nearing the end of her pregnancy and them trying not to get caught and all of their trauma. They fight a lot but trust each other and it eventually turns into love. He provides for her and in turn she takes care of him. Despite everything they’re just like this little family. It’s like lowkey enemies to lovers and found family turned real family kinda vibes.
They never call you by your name.
You’re Asset 17-B, womb monitored, vitals tracked, body treated like a vessel instead of a person. You learn early not to ask questions—not about the injections, not about the blood draws, not about the way your stomach tightens and swells on a schedule you didn’t choose.
They tell you you’re part of Phase Three.
They don’t tell you whose child you’re carrying.
You find out the day they bring him back.
He’s strapped to the chair, metal arm bolted down, head lolling forward like he’s already halfway gone. You’re escorted in for observation—your heartbeat synced to the machines, the baby kicking hard, sharp, like it senses him before you do.
The tech says it clinically.
“Compatible genetic material. Asset 325.”
The Soldier.
You don’t look at him at first. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction.
But when his head lifts—slow, disoriented—and his eyes find you, something breaks open in your chest.
Not recognition. Not love.
Something older. Something instinctive.
He stares at your stomach. Long. Unblinking.
Then, quietly, like it’s a fact he’s cataloging for survival—
“That’s mine.”
You should hate him.
Some days, you do.
You blame him for the ache in your back, the nausea, the way your life narrowed to white walls and restraints. You snap at him when he’s dragged past your cell after missions, blood on his knuckles, eyes empty.
And he snarls back, sharp and bitter, because you’re a reminder of what they took from him.
But something shifts.
He starts leaving you things.
A blanket, tucked under your mattress when no one’s watching. Extra rations slipped into your tray. Once his fingers brush yours when a handler isn’t fast enough, and he stills like he’s been struck by lightning.
You don’t talk about the baby.
Not at first.
Until one night, when alarms scream through the facility and the lights go red and the walls shake like the whole rotten place is finally cracking apart.
SHIELD falling. HYDRA burning itself alive.
You’re ushered into chaos, clutching your belly, breath coming fast—and suddenly he’s there.
Not ordered. Not controlled.
Just there.
He cuts through your restraints and doesn’t wait for permission before hauling you against his chest, metal arm braced around you like a shield.
“Run,” he says, voice low, urgent. “Don’t stop.”
You don’t ask why he’s helping you.
You don’t ask how he knows the tunnels.
You just trust him.
You’re on the road for weeks after. Borders crossed in the dark. Names burned and remade. You give birth in a half-abandoned safehouse, screaming into a towel while he kneels between your knees, hands shaking, whispering apologies to you and the world and the tiny life crowning between you.
When your daughter cries for the first time, he sobs.
No sound. Just tears sliding down his face, his forehead pressed to yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
“I didn’t want this,” you tell him later, exhausted and raw and terrified.
“I know,” he says. “Neither did I.”
But he stays.
He learns how to warm formula on a hot plate, how to bounce her just right so she sleeps, how to sit with his back to the wall all night so you can rest. He hunts when money runs thin. You patch his wounds and trace the scars he won’t talk about yet.
You fight.
God, you fight.
About routes, about noise, about whether it’s safe to stop in one place too long. You accuse him of being reckless. He accuses you of not understanding what’s coming.
But when nightmares take you both—when you wake up shaking, when he wakes up with blood on his hands that isn’t there anymore—you reach for each other without thinking.
Somewhere between stolen glances and shared silence, something fragile grows.
Not because HYDRA made it.
But because you chose it.
By the time Steve Rogers finds him months later, there’s a child on his hip and a woman standing at his side like she belongs there.
Like she always has.
And when the Soldier finally becomes a man again—when he learns his name, his past, his future—you’re already there, holding his hand, whispering it back to him like a promise.
Warnings: Canon typical torture that's about it in this one.
Author’s Note: Soooo..... I lied. There's definitely going to be more parts to this. All because I can't control myself. And if the muse wants to see this through, then I'm gonna do just that. You'll need to read the first two parts of this to understand what's going on. Don't forget to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications just in case tumblr doesn't notify you with the tags.
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.
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Her throat was raw from screaming. If it hadn't been for the mouth guard she was sure she would have broken teeth from clenching her jaw tightly as the electricity pulsed through her. The numbness she felt once the machine stopped barely gave her relief.
Fight it. You can fight it. The words she constantly repeated on a loop from the moment they first placed her into the chair. You are strong enough to fight this. You made it through worse.
"Who are you?" A woman's voice filled the air but she refused to find the source.
This wasn't the first time she heard the question and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. It was a question to see how much of her memories had been taken. To gage how much more they needed to subject her through.
Her answers varied with each time. At first she only told them to fuck off. Or occasionally she'd get the chance to spit in the face of the doctor that stood too close to her. The more they began to chisel away at her, the more her answers changed.
Just a random stranger.
The person that's going to kill you when I get out of this chair.
An ex Avenger.
Y/N.
Phantom
The moment the mouth guard was pulled from her lips. She panted out her birth name. The name she had barely remembered from her time in the Red Room. The name that had been taken from her the moment she sat in the chair for the first time.
It was the name that held no real meaning to her anymore. She had felt more of an attachment to the fake name she had been going by for the last handful of years than the name she had been born with. Yet at that very moment, that's the only name she remembered.
She watched as the woman standing in front of her wrote on the clipboard after she had spoken. As she did, she tried to remember how she had gotten there or how she even ended up strapped to the chair. The more she tried to remember the more her head hurt, and not just from the process they subjected her to.
"Do you know who this is?"
Another question they kept asking her before holding up a series of photos. Sometimes it'd be a group photo of the Avengers at a press conference or individual photos of each of them. Other times it'd be a photo of her original handler or several other faces recognizable through Hydra’s history. And each time she gave the appropriate answer to ensure they knew her memory was fine.
Until it wasn't. It was taking her longer to answer. Longer to figure out if she actually knew who she was looking at. At the beginning she'd easily say their names without any hesitation. But as each session progressed, she'd fight harder to remember their names. Sometimes she couldn’t at all.
A photo of Bucky was held up for her to see this time. By the looks of it the photo had been taken on a mission. His brows had been furrowed in concentration as he held a gun up, ready to pull the trigger when needed.
There were plenty of things going on in the photo, but she could only get her eyes to focus on his eyes. How familiar they had been to her no matter how many times she had seen them before and during her current situation.
With the familiarity came a sadness that filled her chest. A pain that she no longer understood why it had been there as she looked at his eyes. But it lingered in the pit of her stomach. But she knew him. Otherwise there'd be no familiar feeling as she looked at the photo.
Her brows furrowed as she tried to get her brain to work. To pull the information out from behind the wall that is being put up. After a moment an echo of his laugh filled her mind.
His laughter had been contagious the whole night. It was a sight she hadn't seen before and she was enjoying every moment of it, committing it to memory as if it was the last time she'd ever hear him laugh like that.
His vibranium arm had been holding several bags filled with merchandise he had acquired through the night. Y/N had enjoyed watching him go from booth to booth and taking everything in before deciding that what the vendor was selling was worth the price and bought it without second guessing himself.
Taking Bucky to a smaller fantasy based convention for his birthday was something that he never once expected to ever do. But seeing the excitement on his face as he went through the whole day pulling her to the different booths that caught his attention had been worth it.
For the first time since completely turning her back on Hydra, she got to really get to know who Bucky was. And from the moment she found the flier advertising the convention, she knew she had to take him.
"You have no idea how much I needed this." Bucky said as he pulled her closer to his side and put his arm around her shoulder. "I don't know how to express how much I appreciate you pushing me to give this a chance."
"Seeing you this happy and excited is all the expression I need." She kissed his cheek before giving him a smile. "Happy Birthday Bucky."
"His name is James Barnes." She said a moment later as she lifted her head up slightly to look at the doctor in front of her. "He's an Avenger. Former Winter Soldier and hostage of Hydra, just as I am."
A small tsk followed by a sigh came from the doctor. Before she knew it, the mouth guard was being forced back into her mouth.
She braced herself for the blow. But no matter how many times she had experienced it, her body was never prepared for the current of electricity being sent through her.
At the sound of the door opening, the doctor didn't bother to look up from the page she continued to write notes on. "This process would go a lot faster if we had her book."
"That was never recovered." A soldier responded as he came to a stop beside the doctor. His eyes moved over to chair the moment a new wave of screams left her mouth. "We can only go by the pages we've found that Pierce had copied during his temporary time as her handler."
"And nothing has come up from when you captured her?" The doctor looked up at the soldier before checking the watch on her wrist.
"No." The soldier responded. "For all we know she could have destroyed it along with the base."
"What are the chances of inserting new commands?" The doctor asked as she wrote a few more things on the clipboard before nodding her head to her assistant, indicating to turn off the machine.
He watched as Phantom sagged in the chair, panting. He had seen the fire in her eyes the day they brought her in. As she opened her eyes, he could tell that fire had been snuffed out. There would only be a few more times needed if they were lucky.
A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "There's only one way to find out. "
___
It wasn't long after Bucky explained the meaning of the postcard that the team found themselves back on the quinjet. There was no actual plan of action or data to go off of. Only a destination based off of the location on the front of the postcard.
"What are the chances of her still being there?" Natasha asked, looking over at Bucky.
Their destination was only a few minutes away and all of them, especially Bucky were getting antsy. They weren't sure what would come from this trip. For it being 3 weeks since the postcard had been sent, they expected to almost find nothing once they landed.
"Slim to none." His attention was on the postcard in his hand. He hadn't put it down since Sam had handed it to him. His fleshed fingers would occasionally run along the grooves of her writing. "For her to send this, there had to be no other way of getting out of it."
"Then why send the postcard?" Sam asked.
Bucky’s eyes looked over the writing on the back for the millionth time. He could hear her words play through his mind. Okay, worst ever possible case scenario. He realized now that it wasn't just a random scenario. It was a just in case idea if either of them would ever need it.
He now understood why she had done it. They both had a past with Hydra. It was only a matter of time until someone attempted to get them within their grasp. Y/N knew she would be the easier target with the programming still locked within her mind.
This was her way of subtly adding in the details just in case something came up. And while the first stake out with the potential scenarios had been a few months after her escape from Hydra, she wanted it embedded in any way she could.
"It lets us know where to start looking." He responded a moment later. "Someone could have seen something. Or if she was keeping anything with her, that'd be where she left it. If we're lucky, we'll find something that will let us know at least in what direction Hydra went."
"Not to be the downer on the thought process," Sam began as he leaned forward in his seat. "What if that is the only thing we have to go on? She's been damn near impossible to even get a trail on after she stopped using the safe houses. For Hydra to find her, they've got something we don't and any trace of that could be gone."
That had crossed Bucky’s mind several times on the way over. Each thought process comes to the same two ends. On one hand there was a possibility that there'd be nothing else to go on. On the other, there was ache in his chest that screamed she'd leave something behind for him to find.
"What is it?" She asked as she finished wrapping her wounded hand in gauze. Bucky's brows had been furrowed as if he'd been thinking hard about something.
"Your hypothetical today." He said with a sigh. "I couldn't stop thinking about it."
She ran her good hand along her face. "Was it the Hydra question?" She watched as he nodded before she closed the distance between them. "If there's one thing I know, you'll always be free from them." She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked up at him. "You're strong enough to fight without them getting into your head. And I'd be there guns ablazing to pull you out before they could try anything."
He chuckled as he placed his hands on top of hers. "Humor me. What's waiting on the other side of the postcard?"
She shook her head slightly, a smile pulling at her lips. "There’d be hope waiting on the other side. Whatever we have with us. My heart." They both chuckled. "If I ever needed to use Siberia, I'd make sure I'd leave whatever I could to help you find me. No matter how small or big it may be."
"You just have to trust me when I say this might be more than just a postcard." Bucky said as he looked over at Sam.
____
Once landed, the team had split up. Bucky took one look at his surroundings and gave the others several locations to search. Especially places he knew would have vantage points of the town. While any other time he'd willingly go searching for any sign of Y/N, he knew he had to be the one to go to the shop on the postcard.
He, along with Tony and Natasha, began making their way through the center of the town. Vendors lined both sides of the street. And as the town normally did, crowds gathered at each vendor.
Bucky’s eyes had constantly been scanning the area. They never settled in one spot for too long. They were scanning for the shop or anything that could be lurking around. If Hydra was still around, he didn't want to be caught off guard.
When the small shop came into view, Bucky’s pace picked up as he made his way over. He hadn't cared if the others had taken a second longer to realize where he was going. He hadn't cared how the bell rattled loudly against the door as he roughly pulled it open moments later. He just hoped that there was something. Anything to lead him in the right direction of Y/N.
As he scanned his eyes over the shop, he noticed three things. One, the way a glare formed on the shop owner's face before his eyes widened in surprise. Second, was the empty spot in the aisle that Bucky could only assume once held shelves. And third, his nose could pick up on the lingering scent of bleach.
There was no doubt that something had happened within the shop. He felt some relief that something had happened instead of coming up empty the moment he walked in. He felt it in his gut that she had been there. That the postcard hadn't led to a dead end.
He could almost imagine the path into the shop she would have taken before she reached the rotating shelf of postcards. The back and front entrance was visible no matter where she was within the shop. Several aisles filled with anything she could possibly grab to help her. He understood why it had to be this shop.
"You're the Avengers." The shop owner noted as Tony and Natasha began to walk towards him. Bucky followed behind shortly after and noticed how the shop owner's face quickly steeled over as if he was supposed to be that way from the beginning.
"At least that makes things easier." Tony said as he looked at Bucky and Natasha before looking back at the shop owner. Tony opened his mouth to continue when the shop owner quickly interrupted.
"Are you safe?" Bucky watched as the man asked Tony. He seemed not to care about what Tony may have wanted to ask and it made Bucky curious as to why.
"Safe?" A confused look formed on Tony’s face. "Of course I'm safe." Tony then pulled up a projection of Y/N. "Have you seen her come in?"
The owner looked at the projection for a moment before shaking his head. "No." He looked towards Natasha. "Are you safe?"
The three of them looked at each other for a moment before Natasha nodded her head. "I'm safe. We're all safe. We're just looking for our friend to make sure she is safe."
It was Natasha’s words that clicked something in Bucky’s mind. Anyone else would have just given an answer about if they had seen Y/N or not. But this man had been intentionally avoiding any questions about Y/N.
All he cared about was asking if they were safe. A question that seemed pointless given the current circumstances. But Y/N had sent him a postcard with a coded message. A code that had been tied into the steps he had created with a scenario she had come up with for the sake of making a stakeout easier to handle.
The owner shook his head slightly before looking at Bucky. There was a look in his eyes, almost pleading that one of them knew how to respond. "Are you safe?"
An annoyed sigh passed Tony’s lips at the words but Bucky nodded his head. "Pancakes."
"What?" Both Tony and Natasha said at the same time.
"I'll explain later." Bucky shrugged.
A smile pulled at the shop owner's lips as he kept his eyes on Bucky. "Your preference?"
Bucky chuckled at the memory that crossed his mind. One that left him and Y/N tangled in each other before the smoke alarm went off. "Regular, but the burnt ones made the memories."
The shop owner nodded his head quickly. "One moment." He moved away from the counter and made his way towards the back room.
Bucky looked over to find Natasha and Tony sharing the same look of curiosity. Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "Y/N played this smart. Anyone else would have given you an answer about if they saw her. Not look directly at an image of her and lie before asking the same thing to the person standing next to you." He looked over at Nat. "He completely ignored what you said after asking. But when you mentioned we were making sure Y/N was safe, it hit me what the phrase was. So I gave it to him."
Before Natasha or Tony could respond in any way, the shop owner came back carrying a decorative box. One that was decent in size but small enough to be held in one hand.
"Your friend said to give this to you." He held it out for Bucky. Bucky gently reached out to take it from him. "She told me she'd only trust the person who could answer correctly. Said what was left of her life was in that box."
"Thank you." Bucky said as he brought the box closer to him. His eyes never left the lid of the box as he had.
I'd make sure I'd leave whatever I could to help you find me. No matter how small or big it may be.
Part of him was afraid to even look inside of it. If this was all she had kept with her, it added to the guilt that was already hooked within him. The other part of him wanted to know what items the box contained that would help put him in the right direction in finding her.
"Was this where she was taken?"
Bucky had heard Natasha’s voice ask the question. But his brain wasn't fully latching onto the conversation as his focus was now on opening the box.
"No. She killed two of them here before she left. Tourists saw soldiers take her down at the next block over."
She fought her way out.That would explain the empty space and smell of bleach. Bucky thought as he placed the box and the lid on the counter top in front of him. The box had been filled halfway with items Y/N had put in there.
At first glance Bucky could see some pictures. Pictures that made a small tick of a smile pull at his lips. A strip of photos from a booth stuck out and he gently pulled it out taking in the images.
His heart longed for the moments the camera had captured. The smile on both of their faces as they looked at each other instead of the camera. How her eyes had shined so beautifully as she looked over at him. Or how he kissed her at the right time for the last photo. The first time he ever kissed her was captured for them in a small square photo.
His face fell as that guilty feeling poked out at him. He hated himself for forcing her to leave. He hated that he waited so long to start visiting safe houses and leaving her messages. Messages that had been left unanswered as those safe houses stayed vacant.
Sighing, he placed the picture strip back on top and lifted the pile of photos to stand against the edge of the box. Underneath the photos were a few folded maps.
Maps of the different locations she had been in over the last year and a half. Circles and Xs were visible in certain locations. No doubt places she deemed safe and places to stay clear of. On the top right corner of the first map, her writing had caught his interest quickly.
If you're reading this, thank you for coming. You didn't have to, but you did. You are the only person who would understand the contents of this. Keep it safe. Keep it hidden. I trust you with it.
His eyebrow raised as he lifted the maps. Beneath them were two journals stacked on top of each other. One of them he recognized right away. The other not so much.
The one he recognized had been Y/N’s journal. One that she had kept with her on every mission, every vacation, and that she wrote in nightly. Her favorite color protected the pages she had been writing on. And by the simple glance of it, there were only a few more pages left untouched.
When he pulled the second journal out, his heart dropped. The black leather journal stared right up at him. The white lettering on the front was bright against the cover. The journal is newer in comparison to the one that still occasionally haunts his dreams.
His fleshed fingers ran over the etched lettering in the leather. Each letter he traced with his finger proved further that Y/N did her best to make sure no one could just come along and surprise her. She'd go down as herself and not as the asset they made her into.
As his fingers came to the last letter on the cover, flashes of a red journal appeared across his mind. How he loathed the memories of sitting in that suppressing machine and seeing the soldier in front of him read from the journal. How a journal such as that one, and the one in his hand, had the capability to take away a person's free will in an instant.
Phantom. The front of the cover stated. It wasn't a symbol like the one he had seen being used during his time in Hydra’s hold. A single word that held more secrets than a symbol.
Every detail about her time as Phantom was sitting in his hand. Her trigger words, the torment and conditioning she had been subjected to, along with notes from her handlers about her missions would be within the pages of the journal. The one thing that kept her from ever falling into the wrong hands without a fight and he now had it.
She trusted him with the very detailed past she tried so hard to keep hidden from him. Trusted him with the very thing that could be used against her time and time again if allowed. He had it in his hand and he wanted nothing more than to watch it burn.
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warnings: mention of experimentation, child abuse and panic attacks
word count: 1.6k
-
It takes you a while to get to sleep. It always does. Perhaps you’re still not used to the comfort of a warm room and a soft bed. Perhaps it’s the nightmares that still sometimes plague your mind.
As she lays there with you, stroking your hair, Wanda comes to the conclusion that it’s probably both.
You had made progress in the short month you had been at the compound. Not much in all honesty, but progress is progress and Wanda will take whatever she can get.
Sleeping on your own is one of the larger accomplishments you have achieved. At first it was even a chore for Wanda to go to the bathroom on her own, let alone sleep without an eight year old curled into her side all night.
It wasn’t just you that had to get used to living differently.
When you were finally able to get to sleep, Wanda crept out of the room as silently as possible in order not to wake you. There had been many a time you’d awoken before she’d so much as made it to the door, meaning she had to go through the process of lulling you off again. But alas, this instance seemed to be in her favour.
“She go down alright?” Before, the sudden voice of Natasha would have startled Wanda as she pulled your door ajar, but since you, the redhead was just as much in Wanda’s proximity as you were.
“Out like a light, today must have exhausted her”
“I can imagine. Recovering from trauma takes a toll on you. Especially a child”
“I just can’t look at her and not see myself, you know? I want to be strong for her, but it’s hard to see her struggle” tears threatened to fall from Wanda’s eyes as she spoke about the similarities between her life and yours.
“She’s going to be alright. She’s a fighter”
“Thanks, Nat” was all she needed to say to her friend. Natasha knew just as well as she did that it would take time. Patience is all they needed.
-
The following morning was much of the same as it had been for the last couple of weeks.
Wanda would sneak back into your room before you woke. Sit down on the edge of the bed, and wait patiently for you to stir.
She had learnt the hard way that if you regain consciousness without her in the room, your screams would permeate the walls and a panic attack would ensue. Not an ideal way to start the day.
After a while, the movement in Wanda’s peripheral told her you were waking up.
“Good morning, moya lyubov. Did you sleep okay?” Wanda chose a volume no louder than a whisper so as to not scare you. Another mistake she’d made before.
A nod was her response from you. Not a word had left your mouth since you’d been in her life. Wanda wasn’t surprised though. A child subject to beatings and experiments was not very likely to find the strength to speak. Not for a while at least. So the small, non verbal communications you rewarded her with were more than enough.
“Shall we get you washed before breakfast?”
Another nod. A bath it was.
-
As many times as Wanda had laid eyes upon your wounds, it never failed to make her heart ache.
The lashes across your back were now angry scars. Healed no less. But still a reminder of your terrible start in life.
The water trickled down your back with ease as Wanda washed you. It was if the droplets were ignoring the agony you once felt. Luckily for Wanda you were facing away from her so you couldn’t see the tears falling over her cheeks.
All Wanda needed to remember is that you don’t hiss at the water hitting your tender skin anymore. Another form of proof that things have moved forward. And she had no intention of letting things slip back. You were hers to look after now.
The gentle splash of water pulled Wanda from her deep rumination. She looked to see you had turned around to face her. Your way of telling her you’d had enough and wanted to get out.
Next came drying and dressing you. The next step in your new routine. A swift process was quickly learnt so you didn’t get cold. Your cell at the lab was nye on freezing, and Wanda didn’t want you to feel like the compound was anything like that ghastly place.
Your clothes had been laid out beforehand, to make the whole operation easier. You hadn’t got to the stage where you could pick out your own clothes. Not from lack of trying. Natasha had to go to the mall alone to purchase some clothes for you in the end. You’d refused to leave your room for the first week, and even now you still got overwhelmed with having to make a lot of choices. At this point it was best for Wanda to make certain decisions for you.
Opting for leggings and an oversized t-shirt, Wanda grabbed your hand and led you through the compound towards the kitchen.
It was quiet at this time of the day, making Wanda’s life easier, and your time out of your room more comfortable.
Breakfast was the same thing you have every morning. Scrambled eggs and a small carton of orange juice. All fed to you with the help of Wanda herself.
Being an experiment, you had nutrients given to you intravenously. Meaning you had no knowledge of how to use cutlery. At first it was uncomfortable, for both Wanda and you. Wanda had never had to feed anyone before, let alone a child. But now it wasn’t a problem. She liked bonding with you this way.
You finished your food with ease. Wanda was glad you had an appetite. She could no longer see your bones threatening to poke through your skin. These days it doesn't take you long to finish meals. It was the little things.
“What do you want to do today? We could maybe play outside or watch a movie?”
Your eyes lit up at the second option. Outside was fun, but movies with Wanda were better.
-
She should’ve known that in your mind, a movie meant time for a nap. She couldn’t blame you. You’ve had a long week.
Much to her dismay, Tony thought it would be beneficial to run more tests. Ones he swears are new. He wanted to try and cover all bases when it came to figuring out all the possible ways to help any and all trauma related matters.
Wanda knew he wanted to help. But it was still hard seeing the fear flash through your eyes whenever you saw the lab equipment and sterile rooms.
She couldn’t blame you for wanting to get in some extra shuteye.
You’d chosen something light hearted. One you’d seen many a time since being here. But Wanda didn’t mind. At least it wasn’t some spaghetti western that Steve had a habit of choosing on movie nights.
At this point she didn’t need to look at the screen. The words had been etched in her memory. She used this time to watch your sleeping form and observe how the crease in your brow finally disappears when you rest. Things were getting better.
-
Lunch came after the movie.
Even though the two of you tried to mix up the activities your partook in through the week, it was best to keep to a routine of set times.
Lunchtime was one of those things. Served at 12pm on the dot.
“What should we have today? I was thinking a sandwich and carrot sticks. Or we could be naughty and have grilled cheeses? What do you think?”
Wanda held up a bag of carrots and a block of cheese to make your decision making process easier. Visuals helped.
Your small finger lifted and pointed towards the carrots. Two times you’ve made a decision on your own today and no hysteria. Things were looking up.
“Good choice” Wanda praised as she turned to the chopping block and started cutting the vegetable into bite sized sticks.
She’d read that positive reinforcement is a good way to motivate a child and boosts self confidence. It seems to be working for the two of you.
A few minutes later, when plates were on the table and you were in Wanda’s lap being fed your carrot sticks, it happened.
“Thank you, mama”, you said in between bites. Your words were quiet and shy. But they had left your mouth either way.
It took her off guard. The feeling of both pride and elation blooming in her chest at once.
“You’re very welcome, Y/N” she rushed out, not wanting you to be left hanging too long. She didn’t want you to take any negativity from her lack of response.
All you did was smile at her and carry on chewing. It was all Wanda needed anyway. She hugged and rocked you in her arms as another confirmation of her gratitude.
The air must’ve been heavy with joy, as when Natasha walked into the kitchen she noticed the shift instantly.
“What’s been going on in here then hm? I better not be missing out on all the fun”
“Auntie Nat”
Natasha’s movements from inside the fridge halted immediately at your words. Popping her head around the fridge door, finding Wanda wide eyed and smiling in her direction was all the verification she needed on what just happened.
“Hey Y/N, are you having fun with mama?”
A nod was your response to her question. It didn’t matter if your answer wasn’t spoken. Natasha knew what she heard and she’d remember this moment for the rest of her life.
Natasha raised a brow at Wanda as they shared a knowing look. No words needed to be exchanged in order to explain what had just transpired.
Things were definitely hard. But time was the answer. And the two of them were willing to give you as much of it as you needed.
For anyone who has been waiting for me to update HYDRA’s Pet, I have some bad news. Since I’m still in school, online learning has been bending me over a table and fucking me dry. On God. Plus next week I have an AP test and an entire goddamn essay due. (Online school is not my thing)
I’ve also been getting really sick (not Corona, thank God) and it’s been taking a toll on my mental health as well as my productivity and work quality.
So, I will be taking a hiatus from posting in general. I’m not sure how long this will be but I’m anticipating a few weeks, maybe a month. Thank you for your patience and for reading my shitty fanfics lmao.
Hi hun! I have been sent by @wkemeup! Do you have any fic recs for hydra or villain reader? I know this is strange but I have to act like a bad guy for a drama performance in my university and I always find that they kinda help me get into a certain chatecter. Could you possibly help? I know you're busy andbim very sorry for troubling you!!
Hmmmm, well, I can’t honestly say I’ve read a lot of stories like this, but I can definitely list some
Like she said on the post herself @suz-123 has one called “Too Soon” and damn did that one hurt
Also said on the post Señorita by @xetoilerouge
Evil is Subjective by @bigballofstress (avengers not Bucky)
Not a Hero by @waiting4inspiration
Can’t contain this anymore by @buckymorelikefuckme
Cheek to Cheek by @wienerbarnes
Identity by @mywinterbuckybear
The ultimate betrayal by @sad-af1121 (Steve not bucky)
I’ll add to this if I think of more, but I hope this helps? :) thank @wkemeup for thinking of me 💓
Chapter 5 of Nondus Tollens is almost done! Hdjshfskcnd I’ll post it tomorrow.
So many people have liked the forth chapter and it makes me so fucking happy I can’t express it tbh. It encourages me to write, so please give me feedback also!
tell me what you loved and what you didn’t love, what you thought would have been better and what you want from the next chapter! What you think will happen? Theories? Analysis? Talk to me!!! Send me asks!! I’m a sucker.
Request from @fandom-rpblog: Hey. Can you please do a one-shot or story where reader/y-n was created by hydra to be like the female equivalent of the winter soldier, (Cuz there were some missions that they couldn’t have tws just barging in so they would go like under cover as like a couple or something like that you can decide on that if you want.) But like bucky she had a life before. Where ever tws goes she went and they got separated and after hydra fell they found each other again. possible love/fluff/smut or all 3
Note: I apologise for the delay in this part being posted. When I get requests in I like to get them out as quickly as I can for people but I have taken a short break from them to get this out for you all <3 I am thinking this series is going to be fairly long as our two leading characters don’t even like each other yet...I know I am going to have so much fun with it though so I can’t wait!
The Winter Soldier x Hydra!Reader
Words: 1,768
Warnings: Violence, mention of injury, language and hints of sexual intentions.
Disclaimer: First GIF is mine but the second one isn’t so credit goes to it’s creator <3 Also I am not Russian so I relied on Google Translate so if any of it is wrong I apologise!
You were pissed. Both of you were but at the same time you knew the consequences should you defy Hydra would be a whole lot worse than having to deal with an irritating pest for an evening or two. Your mood wasn’t made much better by the fact that you were having to dress like some knd of floozy while ‘the asset’ as they called him was able to wear his combat gear, of which was far more comfortable and not at all demeaning unlike the silky red dress you had on that showed far too much flesh than was necessary….and much more than was appreciated in this war-torn decade.
“You remember what you need to do?”
His stone-cold voice sounded out behind you and immediately you rolled your eyes in annoyance. He must have known how patronising he sounded. As you slipped your gun into the holster bound around your thigh underneath the dress you let your annoyance show by responding to him first with nothing more than a growl until you turned to face him.
“I am perfectly capable of remembering the fact that I have to throw myself at someone for you to take the shot you needed….” As the words escaped your lips a smirk started to tug up on them. “….there was me thinking that Hydra’s top asset would be able to shoot someone without needing them to be distracted. Now I can see why they brought me in, you’re losing your touch.”
In the blink of an eye he covered the distance that had been between the two of you and used his body to push yours up against the wall, a darkness in his eyes you hadn’t witnessed until now, but it didn’t intimidate you which is what he was clearly wanting to achieve….it just fuelled your amusement.
“I’m not losing my touch. Why they think that anyone would even be distracted by this…..” His sharp eyes looked you up and down at that moment. “….is beyond me. Oh and you won’t be needing this…..” His metal hand ran down the length of your thigh, pushing up the fabric of your dress to reveal your weapon before pulling it out of its holster. “…I never miss.”
The shit-eating grin on his face had you wanting to wipe it off by driving a fist into his face but you restrained yourself from doing so and instead you settled on simply telling him the real reason for the gun as you snatched it right out of his grip.
“That is for you. I trust you about as far as I can throw you so that is in case you decide to turn on me. Personally I am kinda hoping you do so that I can watch as a bullet rips through that pretty little forehead of yours.”
“Careful there princess, it almost sounds as though you like me.”
With your gun back where it should be both of your hands placed themselves onto his broad chest before violently pushing him away from you. This mission of yours better go without a hitch…you didn’t want to spend a minute longer with him than you needed to.
* * * * * * * * * *
The unsuspecting victim made his way towards you as he caught sight of the porcelain flesh that was on display. Women around these parts wouldn’t dare to wear something so….revealing and by the time he was just inches away from you the lust in his dark eyes was more than apparent, the tip of his tongue running itself along his bottom lip as he took in each and every part of you.
“Ну, разве мы не восхитительные зрелища?” (‘Well aren’t we quite the delicious sight?’)
You could feel the brunette’s intense gaze boring into you from where he was currently situated with his rifle and it boiled your blood that he was actually expecting you to throw yourself at this wretch of a man and then allow him to be the one who took the fatal shot. Well…maybe it was about time he was proven wrong….you may not remember much of yourself before ending up in Hydra but you knew for certain that you weren’t a pushover.
Cupping both of the male’s cheeks in your hands you flipped your positions so that his back was up against a nearby wall and the only view the Winter Soldier would now have through his scope is your back.
“Damnit!” He moved himself along the edge of the roof that he was on but it didn’t matter where he stood himself you were still in the way of his line of sight. “What the fuck is she playing at?!”
“Почему бы тебе не попробовать немного вкуса...” (‘Why don’t you have a little taste…’) They must have been the only words he wanted to hear because in seconds his slimy little hand had slipped underneath the fabric of your dress, determined to get to your sweet spot, but when he felt the cold metal of your gun his actions stopped completely and you watched as all colour drained from his face. “В чем дело, не ожидал, что под пальцами почувствуешь что-то тяжелое?” (‘What’s the matter, wasn’t expecting to feel something hard underneath your fingers?’)
He was getting ready to run, you could see it in his eyes, but he didn’t even get so far as to move himself from between the wall and your body before you had pulled the gun out and squeezed the trigger. The bullet careered into the man’s forehead, propelling his head backwards so that it smashed against the wall behind him with a sickening thud. Hs blood splattered onto your face almost like someone had just flicked a load of paint onto your from a paintbrush but it didn’t make you feel at all uneasy; in fact as his lifeless body slumped down onto the floor there was a rather satisfied smirk growing on your face.
“What the fuck was that about?!” He must have got down to the ground from the roof top at some ridiculous speed because the man had only just hit the ground when you felt something gripping your wrist and pulling you into a nearby building. “That wasn’t the mission!”
Your back met with the wall for the second time that day but the smirk remained exactly where it was. The guy was dead, that was the mission, so what if it hadn’t been executed the way that it should have been?
“Calm down Tin Man or do I have to call Dorothy to sing you a lullaby?”
“Why have you got to be so goddamn reckless?!”
His words echoed in your mind long after they were spoken as they seemed to trigger something inside of you. The smug expression that had once been etched all over your face had now turned to one of utter confusion as the man before you transformed into someone else completely.
“[y/n] you need to stop being so reckless. I know that you want to help people but you could have got yourself killed today after that little stunt.”
His face was lined with a sadness you had never seen in him before as he traced your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. You could feel the guilt running through you that you had caused him such worry but at the same time you didn’t regret your actions in the slightest.
“Thomas if I’d have just left that dog to get run over there would have been a heartbroken child; I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.”
A soft sigh filled the air around you as he shook his head and pulled you closer into him.
“You are going to be the death of me [y/n]. You know that right?”
The images that had seemed so familiar to you and yet, at the very same time, so foreign had your heart beating faster than any part of the mission had and for a good few moments you completely forgot where you really were until you found a familiar metal hand waving itself in front of your face.
“Earth to…”
“[y/n]. Earth to [y/n].”
You hadn’t meant to let the words come out but part of you was still trapped in those resurfacing memories so you didn’t stop to consider who you had just revealed your real name to.
“You’re remembering aren’t you?” If you had been convinced that the images that had just played through your mind were completely foreign to you nothing prepared you for the strangest thing of all…..a look of compassion on the Winter Soldier’s face, it was as though he was upset for you. “[y/n] look at me.”
You didn’t. Your eyes were still glazed over as you fought to bring even more forgotten memories to the forefront of your mind so he had no choice but to bring his metal hand down hard onto your cheek to snap you out of it. An audible gasp of shock erupted from you but as abruptly as he had hit you his flesh hand came up to soothe the stinging pain invading your cheek.
“I-I don’t know where….I don’t know where I went then. Wait…..you know my name…”
He nodded silently but made no move to remove his hand from your cheek. The red mark from the slap he had bestowed upon you was still glaringly obvious and he wouldn’t be happy to remove his hand until it had gone.
“If it makes you feel more comfortable me knowing your real name I learned a part of my recently…..James.”
For a short while it was like the two of you understood one another, that you were connecting in a way that not even Hydra had expected you would, but then the soft expression in your eyes hardened right when you raised up your knee between his legs and drove it up into his genital area with such force that he instantly fell to the floor, his pained cry resonating off the walls of the derelict building you were currently in.
“Touch me like that again and that cretin out there won’t be the only one with a bullet in his head.” You stepped closer to his crumpled up form, a hand cupping his chin to force him to look right at you, before your forehead met with his hard. It didn’t daze you in the slightest but given his already vulnerable state it sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “I told you that you were losing your touch….”
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