Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Favorite Crime

Hehe

Warnings - blood, gore, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, reader kinda gets violent, nightmares, hospital type stuff, eating disorder (?), very violent fic

Reader goes through it guys

Know that I love you so bad
I let you treat me like that
I was your willing accomplice honey
I watched as you fled the scene
Doe-eyed as you buried me
One heart broke, four hands bloody

The bed isn't as uncomfortable as it used to be. The chains are still around your ankles, but they're not as tight, your wrists finally free as you feel the window bring in air. Steve had left a few minutes ago, having trusted you to stay on the bed and do absolutely nothing.

This is how it's been for awhile. You get to wander when he's here, but you mostly stay in the tiny room with only a bed and blanket. The walls are blank, your mind empty as you try and wrap your mind around things. Most of the events are blurred now, but your body has some reaction anytime Steve comes near you. You want to run away and hide, but you have this unknown trust that lets him get close.

When Steve first brought you here has been a mystery for awhile. You've been compliant since you realized he wasn't going to hurt you anymore if you just listened, and he got sweet. He buys you food, he works hard, and you get to stay inside like the good girlfriend you are. You just listen and do what he asks.

The few cuts around your fingers are form his demands, but he sewed them back on, took you to the emergency room where you have your fake id and came back to clean up the mess. He's emotional, you know this. You should've listened to him from the start, and now you feel the rough edge from where the knife had slit open your tissue.

Steve wasn't a bad man. He cared for you in everyway a partner should. He works for as long as he can and comes home to take care of you. You know most of the problems he has can't be solved, but some of them are the ones you caused.

There was this screaming in your head that always told you to get out. But you wouldn't be able to live without him. You weren't sure how you did it in the first place. Steve was everything you needed. This room was your life. You weren't going to leave it behind because of the pain.

The door opens in the other room, and you look towards the sound, waiting for him to greet you as he always does. There's only a few footsteps, too heavy and much too loud for him as they make their way around the messy apartment. You sit up on your knees, looking out the window with bars to try and see if there was anything that would tell you what's going on, but you only saw the few trucks and kids playing outside like usual.

Everything stops when your bedroom door opens quickly. You meet eyes with some familiar face and sit up. No one is allowed to be here, Steve had told you that. He's not back yet, not supposed to be for maybe a few more hours.

"Stark, Romanoff, I need you up here. Now." He speaks into his wrist, not breaking eye contact as more and more people stand at your doorway. Most of them are in a black, tactical uniform. Guns are lined in their arms, faces covered with masks as they most likely wait for a command. "Bring medics," the man continues into his wrist, "I found Y/N."

There's a heavy silence as he stares at you, eyes wide and full of unshed tears. Cars run by quickly, and you finally hear the sirens from down the street, looking back at the window as two fancy card pull up and barely park before people are running out of them. Something is happening, and it's not good. Steve wouldn't want this.