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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

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Run To You - Chpt.1

Summary: Bucky has had the day from hell and all he wants is to buy what he needs and get home to his sick kid. Enter Steve Rogers in the wrong place at the wrong time and Bucky’s day goes from bad to mortifying. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: A smidge of bad language, but really ya’ll should expect that from me by now lol

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to start a new adventure with me? I knew I wanted to write a kid!fic with Bucky and Steve but I didn’t expect it to go quite this way until I jokingly called a friend “Captain Clueless” and then couldn’t get that name out of my head in relation to Steve. I fell completely in love with this little universe as I went and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. XOXO - Ash

Chapter One

Bucky Barnes is not at his finest. He just got off a sixteen hour shift from his job as an ER nurse and can barely keep his eyes open. The shift should have ended four hours earlier, but a tour bus accident had them overwhelmed on what had already been a busy night. Bucky was looking forward to catching a few hours of sleep while Becca was at preschool but nope, he came home to a frazzled best friend/ babysitter and a sick four year old. It was always something with Becca, her immune system just wasn’t what it needed to be. Bucky couldn’t fault her for that, she had been born premature and that unfortunately resulted in a whole host of health issues for the little girl. He would never regret adopting her, it was the best decision he’d ever made, but some days parenthood wore on him.

Bucky moves the load of laundry Natasha had started for him into the dryer. It smells clean but there will forever be a slight stain from puke on the ladybug print sheets. He can try his heavy duty stain remover on it later, but he knows there is only so much that can be done for white fabric and bodily fluids. There’s a reason most of his scrubs are black. After checking in on Becca, Bucky begs Natasha to stay a little longer so he can run down to the bodega to pick up a few things for when Becca wakes up. He would have sworn they had an extra bottle of Pedialyte, but apparently they’d used it up during Becca’s last bout with the flu.

Natasha waits patiently, listening to Bucky complain about his shift while he quickly changes out of his scrubs into a pair of soft grey sweats and an old Blink 182 tshirt. She’s been his best friend since their first year of college when they met in Intro to Biology. The two of them have been inseparable ever since, both even choosing to stay in Brooklyn after college instead of going back to where they were from. Natasha’s family was from Russia but traveled a lot so she was happy staying in the city that felt like home to her, and Bucky would have done just about anything to avoid going back to the tiny town in Indiana where his parents were still selling drugs out of their trailer and making each other miserable.

Bucky had thought he was free of his family forever when NYU accepted him into their nursing program. It was his way out of a poverty stricken little town that people rarely escaped from. Bucky had left home at eighteen with no intentions of returning, and he probably never would have, but during his last year of nursing school he found out through Facebook that his thirty eight year old mother was pregnant. To no one’s surprise, his mom was still dealing, still with his deadbeat dad, and was too far along when she found out she was pregnant to have any other option than having the baby. It was a repeat of the situation she’d found herself in at sixteen when she had Bucky. Knowing what it was like to grow up in that house, Bucky couldn’t allow another child to be brought into such a toxic environment. As soon as his mom confirmed the news was true, he hopped on the next flight out to Indiana and started the process to legally adopt his sister once she was born.

When Rebecca Grace Barnes came into the world nine weeks early the doctors said it was a miracle she survived. She was so small, just barely three pounds, and needed to stay in the NICU for just over a month. Bucky had made arrangements with his professors to turn in exams and papers online, barely managing to finish up his nursing degree while biding his time before he could go back to Brooklyn with his baby sister. It had been a wild ride trying to get his nursing career started while caring for a newborn but Natasha had been a life saver. She and their other friend Clint had stepped up in a huge way, helping to watch Becca when he needed to work and daycare wasn’t open. Their schedules had gotten even messier recently when Becca started preschool. Bucky is counting down the days until kindergarten starts so their schedules will align enough for him to only lean on Nat and Clint one or two days a week at most.

“Are you even listening to me?” Natasha throws a balled up Minnie Mouse sock at Bucky who’s too tired to dodge and instead gets a face full of pink fleece.

“Yeah, Nat,” Bucky sighs, wishing he could take off his aching prosthetic but knowing he’ll need both hands for shopping bags. “I’m getting you a choco taco and a red bull this time. I got you.”

Natasha nods happily, completely unphased by Bucky’s eye roll. She’s getting her wake up juice and her crunchy chocolatey sugar, and that is all that matters.

Bucky rushes around the bodega grabbing everything he’ll need to deal with a sick kid, throwing things in the basket without even bothering to check price tags. His bank account will hate him, but he doesn’t exactly have time or options to find the best deals. Grabbing Nat’s items and an iced coffee for himself, he waits in line as an older man chats with the clerk while the teenager rings up his order. The television in the corner is playing the local news, apparently Captain America visited a rec center in Brooklyn recently. There are sound bites from elderly residents and young kids fawning over him, and one of the Captain himself extolling the importance of community and keeping kids off the streets.

Bucky thinks his eyes will get stuck in the back of his head with how hard he rolls them. “This fucking guy.” Bucky grumbles as he places his basket on the counter, unloading his stuff.

The clerk nods in silent agreement.

“I’m sure he was a ‘bright shining beacon of hope’ back in WWII but he has no clue what’s going on in the real word nowadays.” Bucky continues.

The clerk nods once again and Bucky, feeling particularly exhausted and grumpy, yells over at the TV, “It’s not all rainbows and sunshine Captain Clueless!”

“Captain Clueless?” A deep voice rumbles from behind him, “I’ve been called a lot of things over the years, but that’s a new one.”

Bucky sees the clerk's face go pale and the kid freezes, confirming what Bucky feared when he heard that rich baritone behind him. Oh fuck.

Turning around, Bucky prepares himself for the worst. Instead, he finds an extremely amused looking Captain America holding a bottle of water and a bag of swedish fish.

“I’m… I… I didn’t mean…” Bucky stammers. He doesn’t know how to politely explain I meant every word but never meant for you to hear it.

The register pings as the clerk frantically finishes ringing up Bucky’s order, trying to get both men out of the shop before the situation can get any worse. The sound startles Bucky and he turns around to see the green blinking $58.79 on the little box. His stomach sinks, there went grocery shopping for the week. But, he reasons, Becca won’t want much for a few days while she recovers and he’s no stranger to a ramen-only diet. They’ll get by, just like they always do.

Before Bucky can hand over his last three twenties, a sleek black card taps against the card reader and the machine starts blinking, processing it. Bucky spins around in surprise only to literally face plant into a solid wall of muscle. Muscle that smells like tea tree and mint, yum. Bucky moves backwards in surprise, bumping into the counter but getting himself away from the giant of man who’s also moving backwards after their collision.

“It’s on me.” Steve tells him with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Bucky insists, “I insulted you.”

“You were just being honest.” Steve reasons, “I don’t get to hear people’s honest opinions all that much.”

“That has to be weird.”

Steve chuckles, “Pal, you got no idea.”

“Well, thank you. And I am sorry you heard that.” Bucky collects his bags, still dumbfounded by the whole experience.

“I’d like to hear more about why you said it. Whatever you think it is I’m missing about the twenty-first century. I’m just out for a run so if you don’t mind company on your way back to wherever, maybe we could talk?”

Bucky shakes his head. The man actually wants to learn how to be a better person after being insulted by a random grungey stranger in a bodega. “You really are Captain America.” Bucky murmurs, still stunned.

Steve chuckles again; a deep, throaty sound. “Yeah, guilty as charged. But you can just call me Steve.” Steve winks conspiratorially and Bucky thinks he might actually combust. No one should be allowed to be that good looking.

Bucky waits as the cashier rings Steve up for his things and Steve taps his card again to pay. “I thought it was weird enough getting a card that swiped when I came out of the ice, but now this one doesn’t even swipe. It just taps and poof, done.” Steve says with a faint tone of awe.

Bucky can’t imagine how many things Steve needed to adjust to after waking up from the ice. “Far cry from what you were used to, huh?”

“Well, it sure beats keeping coins in old coffee cans.”

Bucky glances over at Steve as they leave the bodega together, “You do that whole ‘awe shucks, man out of time’ thing really well. Is it real though? No offense, you can’t really be that well adjusted. You’re still human.”

Steve meets Bucky’s eyes for a moment, crystalline blue piercing into smoke grey-blue, assessing him. After a few beats he decides Bucky is someone who can handle the truth. “It’s a lot easier to do that than to curse up a storm every time some piece of tech pisses me off. Plays out a lot better with the whole Captain America image too.”

“I didn’t think Captain America even knew how to swear.” Bucky teases.

“He doesn’t, but Steve Rogers does. I grew up in Brooklyn, I know how to curse.”

Bucky laughs, swinging his bags idly as they walk in silence for a few steps.

Steve breaks the silence, reminding him of why they’re walking down the street together in the first place, “So really, why do you think I’m so out of touch? Because I thought SHIELD did a bang up job teaching me about the world and what I missed while I was out.”

“I’m sure they did, but SHIELD is still an agency with their own ideas and agendas. I promise you, you got a watered down version of real life. Do me a favor; when you get home look up what they say about The Great Depression and WWII. Do a little research on how we look back at those times. Then think about how it really was back then when you were living it. I would bet you lunch that the two don’t line up.”

“I never thought about it that way.” Steve admits. “I’ll look it up today, promise.”

They arrive on Bucky’s stoop and he climbs up a step, looking down at Steve instead of up at him. He wants to know what Steve thinks once he does some research but doesn’t know how to ask. Luckily, Steve beats him to it.

“I’m going to need your number if you’re taking me out to lunch.” Steve says casually, a light hint of teasing.

Bucky blushes, trying to remind himself that he was the one who threw the lunch bet out there. Steve Rogers would never just ask him out like that. “I… uh… um…” he fumbles anyway.

Steve takes a step back in retreat, his own cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry, that was. I’m sorry. You clearly have a sick kid to get back to, and I’m sure a lovely wife waiting for you too.” he motions at Bucky’s bags. “Thank you, for being honest with me.” Steve turns to hurry off and, thankfully, Bucky’s brain catches up with him.

“Steve, no.” he blurts out. “No wife. Sick kid, yes. But no, um, no one else. If you want my number, I’ll give it to you. My schedule is a little weird because of my job but I do want to know what you think when you get done looking things up.”

Steve smiles up at Bucky, soft and hopeful and genuine. It isn’t the All American facade grin he uses for the cameras, and it feels all the more special to Bucky because of it. Steve hands over his phone to Bucky so he can enter in his contact info and then sends him a quick text so Bucky has his number too. “So, I’ll call you later then?” Steve tries, sounding a little unsure still.

“Yeah, I’ll look forward to it, Steve.” Bucky looks up at his doorway, knowing he needs to get back to Becca but not wanting Steve to leave quite yet.

Steve takes the hint and gives him another soft smile and a small wave as he turns and heads off down the bustling city sidewalk.

Bucky stands there a moment, collecting himself and trying to process it all, before hurrying back upstairs to his little apartment to relieve Natasha of babysitting duty.

*** New chapters will be posted on Sunday and Wednesday nights until the fic is complete ***

#stucky #stucky fanfic #shrunkyclunks #modern au #modern day au #steve rogers #captain america #non winter soldier bucky barnes #nurse!bucky #parent!bucky #becca barnes #kid!becca barnes #adopted child #marvel #steve rogers x bucky barnes

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years

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The French Connection - Chapter 1

A HardyxMiller AU

Ellie Miller is left to go on her honeymoon alone after a devastating secret about her fiance comes to light - halfway through the wedding ceremony. Sitting in St Pancras International in London waiting for her train, she runs into none other than her uni rival/best friend Alec Hardy, on the run from his own recent heartbreak.

They decide to make use of Ellie’s pre-paid trip, rekindling their friendship and escaping real life; yet, it turns out their years at uni are the hardest to outrun. Based on this prompt from @timepetalscollective

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday and Sunday. Beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma

Masterlist | AO3

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Ellie Miller sat slumped over a table for two, picking at her unappetizing, healthy breakfast wrap as she waited for her train. She still had twenty minutes before she could begin boarding, and despite having already made the effort of getting into London, wasn’t even certain she would be on the train when it pulled out.

In fact, she might be quite happy to remain at this table forever. No one who knew her, no one to bother her, offer advice or sympathy, scold or belittle her. She might, if she was lucky, never have to hear her own name ever again.

“Millah?”

Spoke too soon, she thought bitterly, eyes slipping closed and turning her head away from the direction of the voice, hoping whoever it was would believe they were mistaken and continue on.

“The hell are you doing?”

Her eyes snapped open as her table jostled, and sure enough, it was exactly who she’d suspected (feared) now in front of her.

“Fuck off.”

While most men would cower at her vitriolic tone and icy stare, Alec Hardy had been her rival for top of the class at uni, and was therefore all but immune to her intimidation tactics. Being a Scot, he probably considers that a friendly greeting, she rolled her eyes.

He’d helped himself to the chair opposite her, folding his arms on the table and leaning towards her, that curious look in his eye that said he thought he was on the scent of something. “Well aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine? I thought I was the grumpy one. I distinctly remember you ordering it to be so.” The corner of his mouth twitched, and despite her irritation, hers quirked in response.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Running away. You?”

“The same.”

Staring down at her sad breakfast, she could no longer stomach the thought, and pushed it across the table at her one-time schoolmate. “Here, it’s rabbit food, you’ll like it.”

Hardy made a face, poking at it, before shrugging. “Thanks.” He took a bite, grimacing as he chewed, and gingerly set it back down. “You know attempted murder’s a crime, don’t you?”

“You should arrest the bloke in the shop then, ‘cause he promised me it was good.”

That got her a soft laugh, and they sat in silence for a minute, not quite meeting each other’s eye.

“So, how long has it been?” he eventually asked, brow furrowing as if trying to do the math himself and getting nowhere.

“Eight years?” She hadn’t seen him since graduation – or more specifically, the morning after graduation. Involuntarily, her cheeks flushed at the memory.

Hardy froze for just a moment. “Right,” he said, perfectly neutrally, the moment growing more awkward by the second as they both tried to pretend everything was normal.

“What’re you running from?” Ellie asked, just to change the subject, before wincing.

“My girlfriend was having an affair with one of our coworkers, I decked him in the middle of the bullpen, and am now on forced vacation.” He rolled his eyes, slumping down in his chair. “I’d been working thirty-six hours straight so they let me off with just a warning, but strongly suggested I take the next two weeks off.”

Ellie hummed in sympathy, cuddling her coffee cup to her chest to resist the temptation to reach out to him. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “Me too.” He paused a moment, before glancing up with a wry grin. “It was a shitty punch, didn’t even break his nose.”

She laughed, some of her tension easing, though it reappeared instantly when he continued speaking.

“What about you? What’re you running from?”

“Eurostar, London to Paris, now boarding. This is the first call for Eurostar to Paris.”

That was her, but she ignored the announcement to confess, “Yesterday was my wedding day. Halfway through the ceremony, my husband-to-be was arrested on child porn charges.”

“Shit.” Hardy’s eyes went wide, and let off a low whistle. “Shit. Sorry, yeah, that’s worse.”

“It’s not a competition,” she tried to laugh, lower lip wobbling. Don’t cry. Whatever you do, do not cry in front of Hardy. “But, thanks. Anyway, I’m off on our honeymoon alone. Maybe. Where are you headed, though? Where’re you spending your time off?”

He shook his head, shrugging. “I was just going to buy the cheapest ticket and see where it took me. Anywhere but here, you know?”

“You could come with me,” slipped out before she even thought about it, cheeks flaming as she realized what she’d said.

“What?”

“I have two tickets,” she explained, ignoring the little voice saying what’re you doing? Wouldn’t you rather be alone? “Everything’s paid for, and I promise not to ask about your ex if you don’t ask about mine.”

“Second call for Eurostar to Paris. All passengers please make their way to Track Two for boarding.”

Hardy stared at her, a slightly incredulous expression on his face, but after a moment, he shrugged. “What the hell. If you’re sure, why not?”

“Excellent!” Ellie chirped, jumping up and grabbing her luggage. “Shall we go, then?”

As soon as they found seats and settled in, Ellie fell asleep against the window, leaving Alec alone with his thoughts as he watched the countryside fly past.

Eight years, he wondered, slightly amazed. Has it really been that long? In some ways, it did feel that way – it felt like ages since she’d been a part of his life, and it had been jarring, going from seeing her near every day to never again. They’d had a complicated friendship while in school to say the least, one that barely even qualified for the word ‘friendship’, but it was the best description he had.

In other ways, it felt like only yesterday they were antagonizing each other, fighting for top of the class and trying to out-perform each other. In the moment, he hadn’t realized how much fun it was to have her for a sparring partner. For as much as they would argue, it never felt like fighting.

Focusing on her reflection in the window, he considered the utter coincidence that they had both ended up at St Pancras’ on the same morning wanting to run away from their relationship problems. He wouldn’t go so far as to say it was fate, given he didn’t really believe in the concept, but he also didn’t believe in coincidences after so long as a detective, and yet running into her had to be one.

If nothing else, this will be a memorable trip.

Doubts plagued Ellie as soon as the train began to move, and she quickly feigned sleep to avoid any conversation.

Apparently she feigned a bit too well, because the next thing she knew Hardy was gently shaking her shoulder.

“We’re here,” he said quietly, and she sat up, yawning and brushing the hair from her face, horrified to find a bit of crusted drool on the side of her mouth, which she tried to frantically swipe away as they shuffled off the train into Paris’ famed Gare du Nord dragging their luggage behind them.

“Now what?” Hardy asked when they came to a stop in a relatively quiet, out of the way corner, and Ellie let go of her suitcase to dig through her purse for the folder she’d made with all the arrangements.

Yawning again, she re-committed the hotel address to memory before safely storing the documents. “Taxi to the hotel.” She reached for her suitcase again, only to find his hand already there.

“I got this,” he shook his head, “you just lead the way.”

Feeling disoriented for so many reasons that had nothing to do with the foreign country or language, she led him through the train station and out onto the street, joining the queue for a taxi. Thankfully it moved quickly, and soon enough, they were settled in a cab and winding their way through Paris.

“Look at this,” she murmured, staring out the window at the architecture flying by. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” They didn’t pass any famous sites on the way, but Ellie wasn’t bothered; she’d be seeing them soon enough.

On the plus side, I’ll actually get to accomplish my itinerary instead of staying in bed all day, she thought wryly, focusing on Hardy’s reflection in the glass. He was looking out the other window, which was probably for the best. She was still more than a bit stunned at his presence, but after the chaos of the previous twenty-four hours, it was low on the ‘shock’ factor. And he’s certainly not going to ask me about Joe.

The thought of her former fiancé hurt, but she couldn’t quite muster the energy to cry – she’d spent the entire night doing that, curled up alone in her bed, sobbing why? over and over.

She’d hadn’t gotten an answer.

The driver cleared his throat, and she realized they had arrived at their hotel. Situated on the north side of the Seine directly across from the Île de la Cité, it offered an amazing view of the city, and was conveniently located for walking to all the top sights.

“Merci,” Ellie said, but before she could pull out her money, a few notes crossed in front of her nose, and she turned to find Hardy with his arm outstretched.

“I got it,” he shrugged, gesturing his head for her to climb out. He followed quickly, unloading their suitcases from the back, and with a final check, they sent the cab off and headed into the hotel. Again, he grabbed her suitcase before she could, sending her ahead.

I don’t remember him being such a gentleman, she thought, before pasting on a bright smile and checking them in with her admittedly rusty French.

Within moments she was handed two plastic room keys with a cheery Felicitations!, and with a nod, she led him back towards the lifts.

They rode in silence, smiling awkwardly at each other, but thankfully it was a short trip and they quickly spilled out into the hallway. It wasn’t until she opened the door that Ellie remembered she had booked the premiere honeymoon package.

“Shit,” she muttered, holding open the door as she stared inside, Hardy looking over her shoulder. It was a romantic’s dream, but at the moment, the vision just made Ellie want to throw up. “Oh, fuck.”

It was a fairly decent sized room for Paris, a small bathroom immediately on the right before opening up into the main area. A desk and chair sat under the window, offering a view of Paris and in the distance, the towers of Notre-Dame rose above the rooftops.

The main feature, of course, given that it was the honeymoon suite, was the bed.

“Am I losing my mind,” Hardy asked from behind her, “or is that bed really heart-shaped?”

It was, with a delicate canopy to boot. Loose rose petals covered scarlet sheets, while battery-operated white candles were arranged on every flat surface, giving the room a romantic glow despite the lack of real flame. A bottle of champagne sat nestled in an ice bucket next to the desk, two flutes ready nearby.

“Uh huh,” she said faintly, finally moving forward enough to enter the room and letting him in behind her, neither paying any mind to the door slamming shut behind them.

He coughed, shifting his weight. “This is cozy.”

“This was a terrible idea.” Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes, and she had to viciously bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “This whole thing. I never should’ve come – what was I thinking? Oh, fuck.”

“Hey, Miller, it’s okay,” Hardy fumbled, patting her back, only pushing her closer to tears.

“Just give me a minute,” she sniffled, turning into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her before letting her emotions go.

Left alone in the entryway, Alec looked around the room with a frown. Doing his best to ignore the sobbing from the bathroom he stepped further into the main area, crossing his arms as he took it in.

Deciding to try damage control, he cleaned up the rose petals and shut off the candles, doing his best to remove the more romantic overtones. Not that he could do anything about the shape of the bed.

Glancing towards the bathroom door he saw no indication she would soon be emerging and investigated the room a little, pulling open drawers and closet doors to see what they were working with.

No evidence of a sleep sofa meant they would have to share the bed, and he grimaced at the thought. Not that he didn’t think they could do so without incident, but more because he feared it would absolutely send her over the edge.

Eyeing the champagne, he decided to open it – it came with the room, and maybe a little alcohol would ease the tension.

Not too much, the little voice in the back of his mind warned as he popped open the bottle, the last thing either of us needs is a repeat of graduation night.

He kindly told the voice to get stuffed. Just as he finished pouring the second glass the bathroom door opened, and he held out one of the flutes towards Ellie, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

“Champagne?”

#bbatcfic #broadfic #Broadchurch #HardyxMiller #Alec Hardy #Ellie Miller #AU #The French Connection #platonic honeymoon fic

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imagine-loki · 6 years

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Monsters and Magic

TITLE: Monsters and Magic

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 13/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a vampire who helps the Avengers defeat an evil seethe of other vampires, and Loki befriends you after you end up in their custody

RATING: T (so far)

NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

“Striga, you’ve gotta wake up, Doll,” Bucky informed you an indeterminate amount of time later. You groaned as you rolled over and slowly, stiffly sat up. You were a mess of aches and pains from the previous day’s activities. You noted as you sat up that the pillow had been placed back under your head and the blanket had been over you until you sat up. Yup, Bucky was definitely Cap’s friend.

“Striga?” you asked as he pressed a bowl of porridge into your hands.

“I got you something to eat. It’s not much, but this isn’t exactly a five star restaurant… as to Striga…” he flushed a little. “You needed some kind of nickname, and it’s the name of a type of vampire in Romanian,” he explained a bit sheepishly. He really was just like the rest of the team under all the brainwashing. They all loved pet names and determining levels of friendship based on different pet names and nicknames. They were serious about the nicknames too. As far as you knew, the reporter who tried to call Nat ‘Tasha’ was still in the hospital months later…

“You’re gonna fit in with the Avengers just fine. They’re all obsessed with nicknames too,” you told him dryly, giving him a smirk as you dug into your porridge. He actually gave you a small smile. “I thought you weren’t allowed to leave me alone?”

He shrugged. “You were dead asleep. Besides, the actual order was the keep you from escaping. I’m choosing to keep you from escaping by feeding you, but we have to hurry, there’s not a lot of time…”

“Time before what?” you asked concerned, especially with that tone and that haunted look in his eyes.

“They want to start training you for field duty as soon as possible,” he explained sadly. You blanched. That sounded terrible and horrible and about a zillion other synonyms for awful. “We can’t escape. Not yet. I can’t break orders and they’ll be keeping too close an eye on you for a long while yet. If they think I’m helping you in any way, they’ll put my brain back in the blender,” he reminded you firmly before you could try to convince him that you should try to escape. “And don’t even think about going alone. If you get too far from someone carrying one of the remotes, that thing will go off,” he gestured to the obedience disk on your neck. “You’re safe in the compound, but…” you nodded, you’d be doomed trying to escape without dealing with the obedience disk first. “We have to wait until we have an opportunity,”

You nodded and steeled yourself for hell.

And hell it was.

You prayed that Loki couldn’t feel what they were doing to you. You remembered the sunburn on his arm from yesterday and hoped harder that Loki was free of sharing this pain.

It was days, weeks, months? of near 24-hour combat lessons, brainwashing, torture, training. Hell. They fed you barely enough blood to keep you alive and ordered Bucky to keep from feeding you again. All the while they were trying to mess with your mind, you were slowly rebuilding Bucky’s. You were immune to most of their mental meddling because of your telepathic powers being able to shield your mind. They couldn’t blend your brain like they’d done to Bucky. It didn’t stop everything, but it let you keep yourself despite everything. Despite the torture, pain, attempted brainwashing. You stayed you and Bucky commented more than once that you managed to remain a ball of sunshine despite everything.

Slowly, slowly, Bucky became himself again, and slowly you defended and strengthened his mind as you put it back together.

You lost all track of time as the days and days of nearly no sleep blurred together.

You couldn’t contact Loki again, though you tried in fits of desperation. There just wasn’t enough power to go around and you couldn’t gather enough power to do anything useful. You disabled any listening and surveillance device they placed in Bucky’s rooms. He was impressed with your skills with the bugs, since you managed to disable them while making it look like you hadn’t done anything. Your big brain was good for something at least.

It took awhile, but you finally convinced Bucky that he could sleep on the bed too during what sleep you were actually allowed. Neither of you were interested in the other and that was very firmly established and agreed upon. You even let him have the pillow on the condition that you could use him as your pillow. He seemed to sleep easier having your head on his chest and he sheepishly admitted one morning that Steve used to sleep like that all the time when they were kids and he always slept better on those nights, considering Steve’s multitude of medical conditions. He was also warm so you slept easier curled where you could steal his warmth. He didn’t mind since he knew you couldn’t regulate your body temperature yourself.

“Come, Scarlet,” Bucky told you one afternoon after you’d changed from workout clothes to the blood red knee-length dress they insisted you wear. They didn’t give you shoes or a jacket so you could have sleeves around the compound, claiming that vampires who weren’t trying to escape didn’t need such things. The lack of shoes made you look even tinier, innocent, and adorable especially next to the hulking Bucky.

Bucky’s voice was gruff when he spoke where you could be overheard. He was also careful to call you Scarlet, since Hydra decided your name was supposed to be Scarlet Death. Stupid name really. You were both keeping up appearances that he was nothing more than your keeper, that he was still a brainwashed zombie. You were impressed with his acting skills. You just had to pretend to be an adorable ball of sunshine, which wasn’t hard. It made the Hydra agents uncomfortable to see what was being done to you, when you were so tiny and small. Even they didn’t like the innocent being harmed.

He led you to the cafeteria and gestured to your table, the one set a little apart from all the others. You sat obediently. He’d shocked you once in front of all of these people for show and apologized for like an entire day over it, but none of the Hydra agents had liked seeing you shocked either. It was a dangerous game you were playing and you both knew it. So you sat and waited while Bucky went and got you both something to eat, keeping one eye on you the entire time he was away from your side. He dropped the tray and it’s unappealing stew, slice of bread, and an apple in front of you when he returned. “You’re to stay in the bunk after you’ve eaten. Your first mission is tomorrow,” Bucky told you while you smiled and dumped half of your stew into his bowl. He growled at you to stop it, but it was for show, part of the cute innocent act. Also, he needed more calories than you did, plus you didn’t really need much human food to survive, so it was a good addition to the act.

After Bucky’s statement, the rest of the meal was in silence.

“We’re supposed to be terrified of her?” one of the agents asked incredulously as he looked you over. His voice was soft and you weren’t supposed to be able to hear it. You wouldn’t have if you weren’t a vampire with heightened senses. You offered him a bright smile and polite head nod as you passed him and his friend. “The girl at my daughter’s birthday party who played Tinkerbell-”

The next thing you knew you were jolting upright on Bucky’s bed, panicked. “Easy, Doll,” he told you gently.

“What happened?” you demanded, panicked and terrified. You didn’t remember anything after nodding to the agent on your way out of the cafeteria.

“It looks like they affected your brain after all. The trigger word worked,” Bucky explained. “After what he said, you dropped like a stone,” he explained. After he said ‘tinkerbell’, you realized. Oh gods. If they got that through your shielding, what else had they done? You pulled your knees to your chest and sobbed helpless tears. After an awkward moment, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you. “You’ll be ok. We both will. We’ll get through this,” he promised and held you while you sobbed yourself to exhaustion. “Get some sleep, Striga,” he told you and pulled the blanket up over you. “Tomorrow’s going to be rough on us all and you haven’t slept properly in…ages,”

“Y/N! Thank the Norns!” Loki greeted you. The world around you was hazy, but focused quickly. Loki was in standing in front of you, dressed oddly in a green tunic and black pants. The room was unfamiliar too, but that wasn’t a concern right now. Right now all that mattered in the entire universe was that Loki was here. You ran the few steps of distance between you and threw yourself into his arms. He held you as tightly as he could, his arms around your waist while you stood on tiptoe your arms around his neck.

“Loki, how?” you asked, whispering against his neck as you took in his scent, ran your fingers through his hair, held onto him like he was the last real thing in the world.

“This is a dream, love. I’m sorry it took so long for me to learn, but I finally learned to dreamwalk. Thor has been annoyed to no end that I’ve been practicing on him,” he added lightly. You laughed at that, imaginging Thor’s grumpy expression of having magic practiced on him.

“Poor Thor,” you said and dropped back to your feet to look over Loki. He looked you over too. You reached up and touched his neck, there was a burn mark there in the same place the obedience disk was on your neck.

“I’m fine,” he told you before you could start fretting.

“But how-?”

“Your power latches onto mine when they hurt you,” he explained. “With unpleasant side effects. It’s atypical, but not unheard of, especially since I am the one teaching you magic, and you’ve been trying to make the telepathic link. It’s not surprising there’s bleed-through. And don’t you dare try to stop now that you know, either, sweetheart. It’s one of the few things letting me know you’re still alive,” he told you firmly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” his finger pressed against your lips.

“It’s alright, darling,” he told you. You leaned up and kissed him when he dropped his finger from your lips. It didn’t matter that this was a dream. He broke the kiss. “Darling, even my power has limits. I know you’re alive, and in one piece, but are you ok?” he asked softly. He didn’t want to hear that you weren’t.

“I’m in one piece,” you agreed. You didn’t want to tell him what they were doing to you. That wouldn’t help anything and would just make him angry. He understood though. You weren’t alright.

“I hate to push, but have you learned anything that might help us find you? They’re blocking me from finding you somehow, even through dreamwalking I can’t get a lock on your location,” he growled in frustration.

You pointed to the obedience disk in your neck. “This thing somehow casts interference so you can’t find me,” you explained. “Tomorrow will be the first time I’m leaving the compound since I was taken. Some kind of mission for Hydra. I don’t know what it is,” you told him, fear in your voice as you held onto him too tightly. “This stupid disk in my neck. Whatever this mission is, I have to do it,” you sobbed into his chest.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. Whatever they make you do, it’s on them. It’s not your fault,”

“But I’m choosing to do it. Choosing whatever awful task to avoid a little pain,” you whimpered, telling him your fears of becoming a true monster.

“It is hardly a little pain, darling. Not with how much bleedthrough I’ve felt. That much pain is torture, and your actions under torture are not your fault. You’re not a monster, sweetheart, no matter what they make you do. I’m sorry, love. My magic is coming to an end. We’re coming for you, I swear it. We’ll put all of our resources out tomorrow when you’ll be out of that compound. We’ll find you and I will kill them for hurt you,”

You kissed him again. “I love you, Loki,”

“I love you more than anything, sweetheart. Stay strong for me, dearheart,”

“I’m trying, Loki. I’m trying,” you whimpered as more tears came unbidden to your eyes.

“I know, my darling,” his fingers ran through your hair. You kissed him again. You couldn’t keep your lips off of his, not when he was finally here. The kissed broke momentarily, and his spoke, his lips brushing yours. “I love y-

“Come on, Striga, it’s almost dawn,” Bucky told you and shook you harder. The tears were still in your eyes, and you could still feel Loki’s lips on yours. “You ok, Doll?” he asked when you didn’t wake as fast as usual.

“Sorry, magic and dreams,” you told him as you disentangled yourself from the blanket. “Loki… came and visited my dream,” you explained at his confused look. He still didn’t seem to understand, but nodded his agreement anyway.

“Get dressed quickly, we leave at dawn,”

“I can’t see in the sunlight,” you reminded him as you ducked into the bathroom to change into a clean blood-red dress that had been laid out for you. Bucky handed you a black leather jacket as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom. You slipped it on and sat on the bed to tie on the black combat boots.

“I know you can’t. So do they. It’ll be alright,” Bucky told you, but wouldn’t clarify past that. When you were dressed he pulled out a long ribbon the same red as your dress. “Close your eyes and trust me, Striga,” Bucky bid you. You balked.

“No, nonono,” you told him firmly, scared of being even more blind.

“Doll, you have to. They aren’t leaving anything up to chance,” Bucky told you and you could hear the hurt in his voice of what he was making you do.

“Buck, I can’t,” you told him. Balking at this final straw.

“Y/N, neither of us has a choice. I’ll be there the entire time and will do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe,” he reminded you firmly. “But if we don’t hurry, they’re going to come in here and it’s going to be a lot worse and a lot more painful for both of us,”

You sighed, trapped again, and nodded, stepping over to him and turning around so he could tie the stupid ribbon over your eyes. He fastened it securely and touched your hand with his when he was done. You gripped his arm automatically, too tightly, but he wouldn’t complain

He led you through the compound, through the maze of hallways to the exit. You couldn’t remember the last time you breathed fresh air. You were loaded onto a jet with Bucky at your side. He stayed beside you the entire trip to wherever this mission was going and let you hold his hand, knowing you were terrified to be out in the day, that you were scared to be without your vision even worse. It was a long, long trip before the jet landed again. You dozed off on Bucky for part of it, and they actually gave you a coffee cup of blood to drink on the way. It was human, you noted and you briefly wondered whose. You weren’t going to turn it down regardless. You’d been surviving on teaspoons of chicken blood, which was gross and not enough. An entire coffee cup of human blood was desperately needed.

Bucky removed the ribbon from your eyes once the jet had landed. It was dusk. German man, whose name you never actually got, ordered you from the jet. Bucky trailed behind you as you followed the German man, trying to tell yourself that whatever you were forced to do was force and not your choice, no matter how it might seem.

You were led to the edge of a village where a bunch of Hydra agents were waiting in fancy suits. They all had chairs like they were here to watch a show of some variety, and big screens with security camera footage of the village in front of them. It looked like the entire village was on display. “Gentlemen, thank you for coming to this little demonstration,”

“This better be good Herr Schneider. We were promised a powerful new weapon,” one of the men said, shaking German man’s hand.

“I think you will be most impressed with this demonstration,” German man, Schneider, pushed you forward. “It doesn’t look like much, but this is the weapon. Scarlet Death we call it. It’s even more powerful than the Winter Soldier, and will be more so after we train it up a bit more. Now, let me show you what it’s capable of,” Schneider told the men. “It’s been trained with activation words, naturally. So. Shall we begin?” The men nodded and took their seats, intently watching everything, including the screens. Schneider turned to you. “Hugin,”

“Munin” said the Schneider and the world came back into focus slowly. You were wet. Why were you wet? You looked down and saw that you were soaked. Drenched in so much blood that your blood red dress looked black. Your skin was smeared in blood too. It was sticky and still hot on your skin. It was also very much definitely blood. You were a vampire. You could tell.

It was then that you looked around you and your hands went to your mouth in shock and horror. You were in the eye of a storm of carnage. There were bodies surrounding you. Men, women, children. The village around you was burning. But it was the bodies, bodies you knew that you were somehow responsible for that held your attention and horror. A hundred people? More? You couldn’t tell from the pile of carnage around you. They were dead, so very, very dead.

You fell to your knees, the ground squelching beneath you. Tears of shock and horror streamed down your cheeks, dripped to add more blood to the already blood soaked earth.

You had killed all of these people.

You couldn’t remember doing it.

One word and you had.

You were viciously, violently ill at the knowledge of what you had done. It didn’t matter that it was against your will. It didn’t matter you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter you had no idea what you were doing.

You had done it.

They succeeded.

They won.

They had succeeded in turning you into a monster after all

#Loki #Lover #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #monsters and magic #chapter 13 #nekoamamori

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