Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Repayment (2)

Request by Soldier15MS

Warnings - blood, mentions of death, description of torture, needles, mentions of past trauma

*UNEDITED*

All Bucky could see was red and black. His vision was fading in and out, but he was seething at the sound of your whimpers. All he could hear was your pleads and begs, how fast your heart was beating, and the few questions of his where abouts.

He knew his plan would be shitty. Leaving you alone in the room when you could barely stand had been the worst thing he's done, but he had promised your safety, and now, he isn't even sure of his own. His hand are tied down, and he can barely see the few feet in front of him, but his anger is keeping him from dropping unconscious on the floor they're keeping him on.

Hearing you ask where he is makes the guilt pile on top of him. After everything, even dragging you out after your assurance you would be fine, you were trying to see if he was safe. Asking what they had done to him and that you would comply if he wasn't harmed.

what.

Bucky sits up when your tone changes to desperation, please and begs basically falling on deaf ears before your whine comes out. He lifts his head up enough to see the table you're strapped on, legs, arms, torso, and head unmovable as feet approach him on the floor.

"Bucky," you whisper out in relief, your eyes just barely meeting his before you cough up blood that falls down the corner of your mouth. "What did you do to him?" Your voice so sounds broken, and he was going to comment on your own well being, but he was pulled up, the chains around his wrists stopping him from moving any further into the room.

A hand grasps his chin, and he forces to look the other way, only having to watch as a hand slips around your throat. Fingers grip your skin, and you squirm on the table, gasping and clenching your fists as your back arches off.

"Okay!" He shouts in hopes he would stop, but it only goes on for a few more seconds, your face turning red as you pull on your restraints. He pushes against the spike-induced cuff, hoping to break free, but it only causes him more pain. "Fine! Just stop! You're going to kill her!" His hair falls in his face from the effort, but he's able to see the hand be removed from you, your coughs hard as you relax against the table with heavy pants.

Seeing you barely breathe has Bucky even more pissed. Blood covers most of your barely clothed body, and he could tell you were still being affected by whatever they had been doing to you most likely hours ago. Sweat and tears was falling off your face, and depsite almost being choked to death, you were more red in the face and flush at the neck.

They had done this to you. Sweet, caring you. The girl who forgave him for something he had no control over, but just wanted a little space to get used to it. The girl who would congratulate him if a mission went by successfully only a month after you found out he had been the person you watched kill your parents.

Bucky has slowly grown to know you over the years, and eventually, he likes the small piece of quietness you give the team. How you recollect everyone, and watch over them as they drink their entire life in just one night. He likes how caring you are despite how wrong you're done, even if you're too naive to see it.

Seeing you on the brink of death has something igniting in him. He doesn't get to talk to you much, but when he hears the small slur in your words after just half a glass of wine, he knows he's going to keep you safe from the pervs of the party. To watch out for your glass when Natasha or Wanda are too drunk to watch their own when you walk away.