#hope someone relates to the tags I guess. and in the meantime I’ve gotta find the courage to use the block button. I never have before

[edge-oftheworld]

if your fave says that someone makes them happy btw. the least you can do is believe them. if they say that they feel safe and a bit calmer and they’re getting a chance to heal. you gotta respect that. even if you have your own concerns and reasons not to be happy about it, in the end it’s their well-being and they have a right to live and to tell their own story however they choose. and if you refuse to believe basic evidence that’s right in front of you, you don’t deserve to scrutinise their life or who they have in it.

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Spread Your Wings - Pt. 5: The Words

Summary: Reader is a HYDRA experiment (like the Maximoffs, but not voluntary) who grows wings (like Angel from X-Men). She escapes (escape covered in Prologue) and is now trying to rescue and prevent further kidnappings and experiments.

Word Count: 1987

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of phobias

A/N: Here it is. A very, very large THANK YOU to both @imhereforbvcky, and @writingwithadinosaur, for their general wonderfulness and amazing writing skills! I have tagged everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on the prologue, if you would like to be tagged, or untagged, just let me know! There’s a few POV changes here FYI

Spread Your Wings Masterlist

Updated: 9/6/18

“Barton” turned out to be Clint Barton, or Hawkeye. A sarcastic archer, who you decided quite quickly may be your new best friend.

You met him when Bruce Banner arrived, and he Tony and Wanda took you down to the lab to start running scans on your head. Clint came in just as Bruce attached the last electrode to your head.

“I see you guys finally talked someone into getting your cerebral hair extensions,” he drawled as he passed behind Tony, and clapped Bruce on the shoulder.

Wanda chuckled, as did you. Tony rolled his eyes, but Bruce smiled good-naturedly, and introduced Clint to you before he explained what all the wires and sensors would be doing for the test.

“Basically they’re gonna fry your brain, kid,” Clint said from his position leaning back against a table with his arms crossed, legs crossed at the ankle.

“That’s assuming I have one left at all,” you replied. Clint laughed.

“Why are you even in here, Legolas? Don’t you have a secret family in the country to bother?” You cocked your head at Tony’s question; you knew there must have been a story there, you’d have to ask about it later.

“Natasha called me, and asked me to come help out with the kid you found. As for me being in the lab, I just wanna bug you, Tony.”

“Clint,” Wanda interjected as Tony opened his mouth to retort, “it may be best if you wait to bother Tony until he’s not messing with Y/N’s brain. Go find Nat, she’ll be with Tomas.”

Tony shot her an indignant look, Clint chuckled and made to leave, but stopped at your side briefly.

“Whenever these guys let you loose, we should talk; I know all the gossip,” he said with a wink as he left. You smirked and shook your head very slightly, careful not to dislodge any of the wires resting on your skin.

…

“Well, it looks like we shouldn't remove the chip at the moment. I’m not saying it’s not possible, but we don’t have the right equipment for that here,” Bruce said after studying the test results. Your shoulders sagged a little; you hadn’t wanted to get your hopes up, but a part of you had really hoped the chip could be gone.

“But, I think I know what’s wrong with it,” Tony said from across the lab. He was looking at a large screen suspended from the ceiling that appeared to have detailed schematics on it. “We should be able to fix it up in the meantime. Might even make a few upgrades.”

“So long as they’re not like the HYDRA ‘upgrades’, that sounds good.”

“Nothing like those,” Tony said, coming over to stand in front of you, “anything happens that you’re not comfortable with, we’ll stop. You just gotta tell us.” He reached out a hand and rested in on your shoulder. You looked at him, Bruce, and then at Wanda, who was still in the room. Wanda gave you a small smile and a nod. Everyone in the room understood your apprehension; your fear. You met Tony’s eyes again, and nodded.

“We’ll get on the upgrades then. Give us a day or two, and don’t use your chip until we upgrade,” Bruce said as he and Tony set to removing the sensors from your head.

“Should be an easy promise to keep.” You smiled a little and Wanda led you out of the lab.

…

Later that evening, you were on the roof of the building. It wasn’t particularly high off the ground, but it was enough. Enough that when you spread your wings to their fullest extent, and felt the breeze brush over your feathers, you could breathe a sigh of relief. Though your back, and still healing wing ached, open air would always make you feel better, safer. Not that bundling up with a million blankets next to a fireplace wasn’t nice too, but at your worst moments, you sought places high up, off the ground and open to the elements; something easy to launch off. It was a great source of comfort for you, but you knew that it was the opposite for most people. Especially, it seemed, Bucky.

Bucky had come to the roof looking for you. In general, he tried to avoid the roof of anything over two stories. Bucky had enough traumatic memories associated with falling, that heights and edges were among his least favorite things. But seeing you standing there, backlit by the setting sun, he almost forgot his fear. Almost; he still didn’t approach the edge.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for ya,” he called, causing you to turn around.

“Sorry, I needed the height.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for, Doll. But would ya’ mind stepping away from the edge a little?” You complied, but tilted your head in question; not only at his request for you to step back, but also at his use of a nickname. You didn’t mind, quite the opposite actually, you just hadn’t expected it.

“I, uh, I don’t like heights much,” Bucky explained, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. Fear you could understand, even if this particular fear was entirely foreign to you. You nodded and came closer to him, pulling your wings tighter to your body.

“It’s called Basophobia, the fear of falling. Fear of heights is Acrophobia. They’re different things, but sorta related I guess. I have Merinthophobia,” you paused at Bucky’s confused expression, “it’s the fear of being restrained, or tied up. I guess I’m Claustrophobic too, but I think that’s more cause if I’m in a space that I can’t spread my wings out, it sort of hurts. Aaaaand I’m completely babbling, aren’t I? Sorry.” You began mentally berating yourself. Nobody gave a shit what their phobias were called, let alone what yours were. You didn’t really talk to people much, but for some reason, Bucky made you want to talk.

Bucky chuckled lightly.

“Don’t have to apologize,” he said. There was a small smile on his face as he said it, but you still felt the need to apologize again; the awkwardness had diminished but for some reason you were still hyper-aware of every single thing you did when Bucky was present. Everything that he did too.

At that moment he had closed most of the distance between the two of you. He was looking at your wings. The setting sun was filtering through the filaments of your primaries, making them look especially soft. Buck seemed transfixed, barely stopping himself as he reached put his right hand to touch the feathers.

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t even ask,” Bucky said, pulling his arm back quickly and muttering something that sounded like “way to go, ya jerk”, under his breath.

You laughed quietly before saying, “it’s okay to touch them; I don’t mind.”

Without thinking, you reached out, grabbed his right wrist and brought his hand back up to your left wing.

He looked to you, still unsure, but you smiled and nodded slightly in encouragement. Ever since leaving HYDRA, you’d been sensitive to touch; you sought it out, craved it almost, especially when it came to your wings. The scientists at HYDRA had only ever touched your wings in a rough, cold manner. After escaping, having people touch your wings was a reminder that you weren’t in that place anymore; that you were free. You took great comfort from other people’s gentle touches.

Bucky seemed awestruck. He hadn’t taken any comfort in touch when he’d first escaped HYDRA; he had even flinched away from Steve. He could enjoy physical contact after a while, but he was shocked at you. Not only had you not stopped Tomas or him from touching your wings, which Bucky knew would have been the focus of most of HYDRA’s experiments (much like his arm had been), but you’d welcomed it.

He spread his fingers, lightly brushing them over the top arch of your wings and down the feathers.

“They’re so soft,” Bucky brought his face closer to your wings, looking at the feathers. He was just a breath away from you, you could feel the warmth from his skin just as he could feel the warmth of your wings.  He hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten to you. The moment he did, he went to move away. However, at that same moment, the door to the roof banged open, starling both of you. Then Bucky was startled again.

Bucky who had been standing with his back to the door, had quickly turned his body to face it, and brought his right arm behind him to move your body entirely behind his, placing himself between the door and you. But your instant reaction had been to wrap your wings around the both of you, just as you’d done to shield Tomas, but now it was Bucky. Bucky, who was so used to being the one to put himself in the line of fire to protect other people. Whether it was out of a twisted self-hatred, or the knowledge that he was physically able to handle more damage than most people didn’t matter, he did it. Except, you had done it instead. The only other person who had put themselves in the line of fire for him was Steve. But while Steve did it because of years of friendship, you’d put yourself on the line for him after only having known him for a few days; it threw Bucky for a loop.

When you realized that the person coming out the door was not a threat, you retracted your wings quickly and completely, hiding them from sight, but you didn’t step away from Bucky. You were almost pressed to his back, but his arm had wound its way around your side to hold you in place as you’d wrapped your wings around the both of you; he hadn’t released you yet.

“Steve? What’s got ya slammin’ doors all of a sudden? I know your ma raised you better than that,” Bucky teased a little stiffly. He held his body rigid, his arm tightening around you.

“You gotta come to the conference room. Tomas remembered something, but we can’t make heads or tails of it. We’re hoping Y/N can.”

“What’s the rush?” you asked gently, not wanting to startle Bucky, who was still tense.

“He said it was something the HYDRA soldiers had said after their ‘angel’ comment.”

“Then let’s hear it,” you said, resting your hand on Bucky’s forearm, just enough to remind him that he was still holding you. He moved his arm slowly, glancing over his shoulder at you as he did. You gave him a half-smile as you walked around him towards Steve, and you gave his arm a light squeeze as you passed. Bucky smiled a little as he followed you and Steve down the stairs to the conference room.

That was where everything went to shit.

You sat in the chair closest to the door, Bucky on your right, Natasha on your left, and Tomas repeated the words he’d overheard the soldiers saying. He struggled a little since the words were not in his native Portuguese, but in Russian. But it didn’t matter because the words still had their desired effect.

“желание, рушиться, восемнадцать, сумерки, кулер, девятнадцать, злокачественный, отъезд, ноль, двигатель” (desire, crumble, eighteen, twilight, cooler, nineteen, malignant, departure, zero, engine)

You barely even heard the third word. Your ears were filled with a ringing sound and your vision was narrowing and unfocused. But the moment the last word was spoken, the damage had been done. It was only made worse by Tony speaking up when he noticed the change in your demeanor.

“Angel?” he asked, using the name you hated. He meant it as a harmless nickname, but for you, it was more.

“готов к полету,” you responded. (ready to fly).

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