#my wanda skin is so lonely without her brother

[lemoniiiiiii]

fortnite if you can have all this x-men stuff and wanda AND MAGNETO in the game then you can add quicksilver pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls do it plsssss 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

[blushing-starker]

For my Gracie dear. What would I do without you in my life? Merry Christmas darling. @vaguekiwi

"Well, you wouldn't really be in this position if you had accepted my proposal, baby cheeks. In fact, I'm practically drooling over the thought of you saying fuck it and coming to visit with a few surprises beneath that second skin you're rocking." Two sentences, two very different tones of voice, both trying to coax him in. Reprimand and flirt, the only possible courses of action for Wade when it came to them.

"So I guess it's true what they say; chivalry died when you were born, Wade. Every single conversation between us is proof and the world knows it." He grinned as soon as he heard the exaggerated gasps over the landline, always loved these tennis matches with his partner in crime.

Sure, the 'red devil' of Cliffwood often threaded barely subtle, often outlandish innuendos into their interactions and never denied the neighborhood a chance of seeing him draped over Peter, but it was, God forgive him, fun. Exciting and a little thrilling.

And also past their bedtime. So to speak. "I gotta go and I know Wanda likes to cook late. Go help her in the kitchen, Mr Gifted Hands. Vision might give me an A in the next exam if I told him I encouraged you to make his favorite lasagna." It won't happen, obviously. The Maximoffs, because Vision had adopted the name on his second date with Wanda long before their wedding, were usually chaotic neutrals that tried sticking to the right side of the law. Hopefully, Mr Maximoffs' morality would at least allow the man to add a five point bonus on Peter's next physics test.

"Oh, you finally admit my hands are gifted, Mr Parker? How forward of you." If there was one thing that he loved about being friends with the incorrigible Wade Wilson, it was how the man oozed sex like it was nothing. His surety in it, in flirting, in courting and joking made Peter feel at ease. Most people, even those like Mr Rogers with his slightly conservative views, enjoyed Wade's antics because they were harmless.

Most of the time. The guy had slept with two thirds of the town, after all.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Wade. What would Vanessa say of-"

"Please, the woman basically throws me at people in the hopes of watching me sleep with them."

"you being with me before her?"

"..."

Peter squinted at a shiny red nail, worried he'd somehow messed up Morgan's job of decorating him in the Christmas spirit. The lamp next to the couch is a tad dimmer than usual, right, he has to swap the bulbs. He'd completely forgotten in the midst of playing with Morgan and Rocky, baking them brownies, battling the upstairs shower mold, decluttering the toy boxes and throwing something semi appealing for dinner. There was a spare light in the, was it the garage? No, his memory had been reduced to physics laws and the kids' allergies, but Peter's sure he would have noticed. Maybe Morgan had hidden them in the office, Rocky liked chewing on light bulbs so it's not too unlikely

"Shit, Parker, now I'm thinking about that, Jesus. Christ on a bicycle! Hmm? It's nothing, Wanda, just Peter being a brat and a tease."

"Hey, I'm not a brat!"

"Says you. I bet a certain member of the awesome facial hair club could evidence the opposite. Actually, I'll go right over and ask, hey!" The sound of Wade distinctly face planting onto the Maximoffs couch sent Peter into enough hysterics he could barely make out what Wanda was saying.

"I sincerely apologize for the little devil-"

"I'm almost two heads taller than you!"

"that can't seem to mind his manners no matter how many times we try to teach him how to be human."

"It's," God, he's wheezing like a freshman first day of gym with Coulson, "perfectly alright, Miss. I'm the one that should say sorry for keeping him up so late, I know he has chores to do around the house. Lovely Christmas lights, by the way. I think you guys might win the competition again this year."

There's a tiny worm of guilt crawling up his throat; how could he distract Wade when Wanda had her hands full with an energetic baby ready to sprint out of the house at any moment?

"Oh sweet Peter," she drawls out the vowels, like they're honey and she's trying her best to stretch them out, savour them, "you really think so? I thought the yard looked perfect, but Vision insisted on decorating the roof to 'ensure our win against my dear brother in law'. And please, a happy Wade that's finished his teasing for the day is wonderful for us. He cleans faster and doesn't kiss my cheeks as much."

"Wait, you did the roof?" He knew the Maximoff siblings were intense, had witnessed Pietro stabbing flamingos into Clint's lawn just to add some color to his already bright remodeling a weeks ago.

"You haven't seen it? Tell Morguna's father to take you outside to see it while the kids are watching television. That way you can go back with an excuse if you get too nervous with him."

Peter spluttered, ignored the fact his cheeks were flaming, pretended he couldn't hear Wade's howling through the phone. "I don't, I wouldn't, it's not like, I mean. The, the kids will probably sleep early tonight."

"Perfect, you won't have an excuse and he'll finally kiss you. Oh, Vision. Hello, dear, I'm saying goodbye to Peter. That idiot might kiss him tonight."

"Hello? Hello, Peter. I'm very happy for you both; but may I request you kiss after midnight? I'm afraid I made a substantial bet regarding that kiss and was hoping to get Clint back over Banner and Natasha."

Great, he'd died and entered a hell where the only thing he could do was stutter and flush crimson. Typical Parker luck, really.

"SurebyeMrandMrsMaximofflaterWade."

He slammed the phone back on its pedestal, dove into the leather couch and screamed until his throat ached.

--------

"Daddy? Peter, daddy's here! Don't let him go to our room until we're done with the Christmas card, please!" He yanked his head from under the cushions, scrambled to the door, tripped over Morgan's race car, narrowly avoided the destruction of Rocky's Lego chop shop, hastily stashed a pink apron in the drawers by the door, failed to straighten his sweater (a gift from the kids' grandmother) and took all of ten seconds to fix his hair before opening the door. In the exact moment the owner of the house leaned against it to enter.

There's a second where realization kicked in, worry is splashed over both their faces, he darted forward to help so the man's heart didn't shut down on them right then, said man wanted to preserve such a young, healthy body; they tried to control the damage.

They failed. Spectacularly. Crashed into each other, somehow elbows and knees sunk into bad spots, bone snapped, ligaments wept in pain, a chest became winded, one of them got a black eye and the other a constricted throat. This was, of course, before it started raining and two idiots got drenched while piled up on the front door.

Peter gasped, wasn't sure whether it was better to lie under his dream, his wet fantasy, his goal in life or allow his brain some oxygen.

To be fair, this would only happen the once. He could breathe for the rest of his lonely life.

"Uh, welcome home, Mr Stark. How was work to, today, sir, that's not my thigh." Wade would know. Jesus, Wade would find out Mr Stark touched his dick for the first time and it wasn't even on purpose.

"Kid, I'm so sorry. Here I was wondering if I could give you your Christmas gift without ruining the box and now look at me. Peter, you don't have to come back to work if you don't want to-"

"Wait, you got me a gift, Mr Stark?"

"I will pay you for this whole month, obviously." The man shuffled back, attempted to shakily stand up like a foal and immediately slid down onto the sleek young man.

"Not come back to? Mr, ow, Tony, I'm not going anywhere. Not on Christmas, not ever. Look at me." Don't look at what's between my legs, Peter prayed, don't look at how you are between my legs, don't look.

Tony Stark glanced down, inhaled sharply and snapped his gaze to the au pair's. He may have leaned against what he hoped was his Christmas gift. Maybe.

"I'm not leaving, Mr Stark." The rain kept drizzling into the house, his throat continued to ache, the distance between their two bodies remained the same. But there was something in Mr Stark's eyes now, yes indeed, something Peter had resolutely ignored for the past six months while working with the sweetest family he'd ever known. It was the same something Wade yelled about when talking about his best friend's employer's face as it regarded the au pair.

"I think Wade might kill me if -"

"Rhode's is gonna choke me out if-"

"Are you two gonna kiss or not?"

They risked whiplash to peer right at, or, in Peter's position, upside down at Morgan and Rocky who unflinchingly stared at the ridiculous site their fathers made. Rocky even shook his head the way Tony did when he was disappointed. Little Morgan criss crossed her arms and Peter thought he'd sob because that's just how he taught her.

"We were going to put mistletoe on the door when you came in; we finished the holiday card months ago so that was the one thing left on the to do list."

"Months ago? I helped you two make one last week!"

"Oh yeah, how were you going to hang up mistletoe, daughter mine? There's no nail." A soft thwump over the doorway. It seemed Clint had given Morgan her own bow. And she knew how to use it.

They collected their courage, scraps of reduced pride, some drool and a tiny drop of sweat before turning to the man they'd been waiting for for so long.

"Mr Parker, will you do me the honor of bestowing a kiss upon an old man with creaking bones and heating hair?"

Oh. Oh, this was happening.

"I love your hair and I'll get you a walker that has a cup holder for water and a few pain pills. Mr Stark, will you kiss a kid from Queens who's so into you the red devil of Cliffwood himself doesn't dare sleep with either of us and get in the way?"

"Well, first of all. A walker, really, am I that old. Second, nice call on the pain pills, very good save on the hair. And please. He'd never get in the way of us two-"

"Great, are you gonna kiss me?"

"Why, Mr Parker. Don't mind if I do." It was a soft statement he would otherwise confuse as a plea.

"Fucking finally." That was a bit more of a pained gasp instead of a sigh of relief, but Morgan and Rocky were doing enough sighing for the both of them afterwards.

Afterwards though, when the blood is finally distributed to the right places

"Yeah, I think I broke my wrist and you should get that throat checked. I'll get the car."

"Tony, it's the fifties. I can get the car while you call Bucky to look over the kids. Anyone talks to me and they'll think you had something to do with my throat."

"That is a fantastic idea, sweetheart. Save it for later, maybe raincheck?"

"Get the car, Tony."

"Yep. Come on, you rascals. Help an old man out."

----------

Wade can't look at Tony without howling, mutters something about a limp wrist while Vanessa sighs and apologizes, compliments Peter on surviving life with a ridiculous best friend by his side. He says it's ok. Wade's his go to guy for whenever Peter has to get his head in the game and his lips on Tony's.

[shy-violet-soul]

The Itty-Bitty Babysitting Brigade

Title: The Itty-Bitty Babysitting Brigade Characters: Alpha! Bucky Barnes x Omega!F-Reader, Assorted Avengers Summary: A team of experts are ready to help Bucky with the twins. Warnings: fluffity fluffy fluff.  A bad language word. Word count: approx. 2,400 A/N: This merry little band wouldn’t let me rest until I snuck a peak at how they do with the new pups! You don’t have to read part 1 & part 2, but you should.

A/N 2: a very big fluffy thank you to my 2 beta’s, @thesassywallflower​ and @pinknerdpanda​. You ladies are super-fab - bless you for putting up with my text onslaughts!

This is a work of fiction based upon characters owned by the MCU. My work is not to be published elsewhere without my written permission.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. Before you and the twins darkened the apartment doorway on your first day home as a family, he’d created pup care schedules, matrices, and plans that would put Nick Fury to shame. The failure of the infants to follow said schedules, matrices, and plans gave him chest pains.

“Bucky, my love, it’s okay. They were all warm and cozy where it was dark and quieter. Here, it’s noisy and cold and bright. I’m sure they’re a little scared because everything’s so different. Crying is the only way they have to talk to us.” Then, you did it again - hand over his heart, blinking your tired but happy eyes up at him. “They’re so lucky to have a strong, brave daddy to help them feel safe.”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. After eight days of carefully crafted pup care plans being shot straight to hell, the soldier went back to his roots - guerilla warfare. Having spent decades perfecting the art of surveillance, he quickly learned the twins’ little tells that gave away possible maneuvers. Ruth Natalia, for instance, went back to sleep if she just rubbed her eyes with her fist. Rubbing her face into the blanket - imminent nap ceasefire. If Joseph Steven had the hiccups for longer than 3 minutes 18 seconds - prompt conflict escalation. Ever the tactician, Bucky quickly adopted the jarhead motto of ‘improvise, adapt, and overcome’ that allowed him to anticipate and quickly intervene. A swift pacifier tucked into Ruth’s mouth bought him an average 6 minutes extra peace time. Swaying Joey side to side tucked in his arm like a football was always a successful diversion. It’s when they joined forces in joint engagement that left him with palpitations and shortness of breath.

Watching you made it easier. Motherhood looked damn good on you. Even if you were covered in spit up and the clothes from two days ago. You showed him the best swaddle techniques, encouraged him to be unafraid while burping them (“they won’t break, Bucky”), and filled his phone with photos of him and the pups.

Even though Bucky grumbled that it had only been a few weeks, your willing daycare back-up Wanda had to get back to missions. The night before you were supposed to resume daycare duties, the babies engaged in full scale attrition warfare, including deployment of the famous Pincer movement.

Simply put, they ganged up on their mama and daddy.

Bucky’s heart broke when you sagged to the floor between their bouncy seats where they both shrieked like they were being tortured, and cried right along with them. You had nursed, and rocked, and walked, and bounced, and bathed, and sung, and nursed and swaddled and unwrapped and walked and vacuumed and nursed and nothing. Was. WORKING. 

“I don’t - I don’t k-know what to d-do!” you sobbed as you held pacifiers to their mouths. Your red-rimmed eyes shone garishly, skin pinched and pale from pure exhaustion. Your nursing top hung raggedly off one shoulder, and your loose pants were stained from dinner two nights before. Both his omega and his pups were in need before him, an expert warrior and master assassin. He felt like he was gonna throw up.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. And an Avenger, dammit! His alpha snarled and snapped with anxiety - protect! Soothe! Fix! Kneeling down behind you, he wrapped you up in his arms, being careful to avoid your painful breasts, and purred into your neck. You and both babies paused in the moment; you quaked like a leaf against him as the pups snuffled, his calming scent of rosemary and sandalwood pacifying them for a moment. He didn’t know what the hell to do, so he did what any rational person would do. He lied.

“I know what to do. You’re going to go take a shower, and lie down and sleep. The babies and I are going downstairs to be with the daycare pups.” 

Your lack of protest said more than any words as you wiped your nose on your sleeve. “C-can I just lie down here?” you croaked out pitifully. Bucky wavered for an instant before putting just enough alpha in his voice to get you moving.

“No, doll, you’ll wake up all sore. Go shower, go sleep.”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The fact that he took enough equipment downstairs to satisfy a doomsday prepper wasn’t noteworthy in the slightest. The pups’ reactions, however, was. Parents were abandoned without a backward glance as they ran pell mell towards the occupied bouncy seat/swing contraptions. 

“WAIT!” Heidi/Dimples the omega bellowed, freezing Chad/Lightning Bolt and Jeremy/Steve in their tracks. “Sanitize! Who knows what germs you’ve picked up out there!” she ordered, swiping the pump bottle and doling out globs while Bucky hurriedly took care of sign in. Bucky would later chuckle with you at the militant little omega refusing access to the babies until every pup had been liberally sanitized. The ooo’s and aaa’s, soft touches, and light distracted the babies as Bucky scrambled to get morning snack lined up. Then…

“Look at that! Baby Joey has the hiccups!” giggled Micah/Iron Hulk.

Shit.

“Mr. Barnes, sir? Ruthie keeps rubbing her face in her blankie,” Heidi advised.

Dammit.

Servings of apple juice globbed into sippy cups with no attention to equal servings as Bucky’s heart rate rose along with the volume of the twins’ fussing. When Ruth gave one piercing cry, Bucky ripped open two packs of graham crackers and dropped them on the table, ignoring the crumbling result as he sprinted back to the babies. Elaine/Warrior Princess had already figured out the Stark tech on the swings, but the smooth movements weren’t doing anything to mollify them. Joey joined in his sister’s cries, both little faces screwing up as they hollered. Seven pairs of pup eyes turned to look at Bucky expectantly.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The fact that he felt like vomiting was irrelevant.

“Hungry. Maybe they’re hungry,” he said more to himself as he stumbled to plug in the bottle warmer.

“Mmmm, I dunno. They don’t sound hungry,” Chad pondered, hands on his hips. 

“How do you know? They’re still fresh out of the wrapper, they don’t know how to cry different.”

Chad scoffed at Elaine. “Because my mama is a baby-makin’ machine, that’s why! She says so all the time, and my dad’s sleeping on the couch till he gets some kinda appointment made. I got two little brothers and one little sister at home.”

Sera studied Ruthi seriously, bobbing along with the baby as she scrutinized. “He’s right, they’re not hungry. See? She’s just lonely.”

Bucky tried not to hyperventilate as he fished out two bottles of breast milk, bobbling one until he slammed it into the warmer. Distantly he saw the pups gather in closer to the babies, heard the murmur of certainty in the ‘ooooh, I see!’ that chattered through the room. While mashing buttons, he chanced a look over his shoulder when Micah declared, 

“I know what to do!” But a mechanical beep of annoyance from the warmer took his attention and sent his pulse hammering in rhythm with the babies’ cries. Failure loomed over him like a towering tidal wave, his throat sticky with stress and hyperventilation. As his vision started to turn white at the edges, Bucky didn’t notice the activity behind him: Micah explaining the plan, Elaine leading Jeremy and Sera to move the big blue chair, Natalie running to the art supplies, and Chad and Heidi leaning over the babies.

Little hands grabbing at his arms knocked Bucky off his pins, the second bottle clattering from his hand. He almost took the blue chair down with him when Elaine and Jeremy tugged him into it, wooden feet groaning an inch or two across the floor in protest. Sera tossed the blankets previously covering the twins across his legs. Natalie appeared at his right, wobbling on a step stool and brandishing a pair of rounded safety scissors while Chad and Heidi clutched the screaming babies against their bodies.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Barnes! This won’t hurt a bit!”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The fact that there are now ten holes ripped into the arms of the big blue chair is immaterial.

Before Bucky could even free up a brain cell to respond, Micah grabbed the left side of his tshirt and pulled it taut, and Natalie sliced a cut from nipple to nipple like she ninja’d her way through toddler tap dance class. Micah then yanked the gap wide, and Chad and Heidi plunked the babies against his bare chest.

“There!” Micah and Chad chimed out victoriously. Bucky didn’t know what ‘there’ was. Or where. He was thoroughly occupied with maneuvering the two squalling, still very tiny babies against him.

“Son of a bitch!” he ground out.

“MIS-ter Barnes! You can’t use bad language words!” Heidi clapped her hands over the closest baby’s ears, glaring ferociously at him. Deaf to her scolding, Bucky yelped when Ruth’s face slid into his armpit and Joey slipped head-first towards the side.  Sighing with exasperation, Chad climbed up to the left arm and clapped his hands on Bucky’s face.

“Listen. Calm down. You’re giving off all your bad alpha smells and freakin’ ‘em out!”

“Deep breaths, Mr. Barnes!” The little pups started coaching the Avenger, breathing in and out exaggeratedly until he followed their lead. Gradually, he noticed the scent of gunsmoke choking the air, causing more than one wrinkled pup nose. He forced himself to relax, his left arm chinking slightly as the plates shifted.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered to himself. Elaine’s head bonked him on the chin as she tugged Joey back into place, the baby flopping like a bobblehead before she climbed down to sit on the floor.

“Nobody knows what to do with kids, Mr. Barnes.”

Finally manuevering Ruth into place, Bucky tried to pay attention. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. My mama tells us all the time. ‘What the hell am I gonna do with you?’” Elaine quoted solemnly.

Jeremy nodded in agreement. “My daddy says parenthood is the toughest hood he’s ever been in. But I don’t know about that ‘cuz I never see him wear a hood, he only wears a ball cap.”

Both babies now lay cautiously secured in his hold. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off them as they still fussed and grizzled unhappily.

“Now what?”

Chad joined the little band crisscrossed-applesauced in front of Bucky. “The two p’s.” The little guy nodded as if to tell him to get busy. Like he wasn’t speaking in a foreign language at all.

“Which two p’s?”

Rolling his eyes and sharing a chagrined look with Elaine, Chad answered, “purr and pat. Bust out that legit purr and pat ‘em on their little hineys.” 

Bucky swallowed hard around the still-pounding pulse in his throat and tried to purr; the sound started croakily at best. But as his alpha settled into the calming action, Bucky felt his muscles relax a hair. His eyes closed as he let himself just be in the moment - the tip-tup dance of their heartbeats against his thrumming warm beneath them, the gentle herby lavender and spiced vanilla of their scents gradually lifting to thread with his rosemary and sandalwood. And gradually realized he nor the babies seemed about to immediately explode.

When he opened his eyes, he blinked at the bright grins waiting for him.

“Good job, Mr. Barnes!” Heidi crowed, clapping happily. Micah offered him a double thumbs up to go with Sera’s chef’s kiss, while the others offered him proud, smiling nods.

“Just need to figure out the pat, and you got this!” Chad encouraged. “They just needed that skin to skin time.”

Jeremy was nodding vehemently. “I helped my mom with that when she was conzausted.”

“What’s conzausted?” Natalie wanted to know.

“It’s when my mom gets really tired.”

“Oh. My dad must get conzausted, too. He says having all us kids is like having a blender with no lid.”

Sera perked up, eyes wide with an epiphany. “That must be why my mom cleans all the time!”

Bucky felt one of his calf muscles cramp up, and tried to relax a little more. Ruth and Joey dozed, happily nuzzling round cheeks and tiny noses into his warmth. Their sleepy little sounds tugged a half-smile onto his face. When Bucky stole his gaze to the daycare pups, Chad gave him a pleased head bob. Unbelievably relieved pride sent more calm into his belly, and Bucky let himself relax even more as the children’s candy-coated happy scents filled him. They whispered and murmured in hushed tones, eager to help with their newest friends and their Sergeant Alpha.

Suddenly, Steve came somersaulting shield first in the craft room window, glass shattering and scattering. Sam splintered open the front door to the tune of pups screaming - all nine of them as the babies were yanked from their nap. Weapons drawn, they both scrambled around the room.

“Bucky! I got your 911 text. Where’s the threat?”

Bucky’s omega is a reasonable woman. The fact that she nailed Sam with a baseball bat was blown entirely out of proportion. The other fact that she kicked Steve in the balls so hard he cried was not.

An hour later, the daycare pups were in the upstairs living quarters, happily munching on popcorn to go with an impromptu ‘Phineas and Ferb’ marathon. Nat and Clint had carted away the incapacitated Captain and Falcon while Tony’s bots worked on door and window replacement. Clint nearly required medical attention himself when he laughed so hard at the ‘conzausted’ Mrs. Barnes’ terrified omega rampage that he fell off the porch. Bucky had taken your scolding shamefacedly, although he truly had no memory of sending the text. Abject panic will do that to you.

As he cuddled the calmed and re-sleeping babies against his bare chest, his omega dozing beside him on the coach, and a pile of pups and pillows before him, Bucky knew he could do this.

He knew they could do this. Even without schedules, matrices, and schedules.

[holylulusworld]

Unwilling to give up

Request: Au, where hydra & avengers are a kingdom. The reader is married off to Steve. He's not very keen about it. The reader is Brock's adoptive sister, he raised her only so to get in avengers' secrets. The reader is oblivious to all this, she's just an innocent girl. When avengers find this out they to torture her in telling the plans & secrets. Amongst this torture, she loses her baby. Brock seeing all this surrenders. Readers fate in your hands. 

I set this AU in modern times. 

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Bruce x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: angst, mentions of miscarriage/torture (nothing graphic), fluff, comforting, sad reader, isolation, rejection

Request sequel to: Unwilling Spy

Weeks later you were finally allowed to leave the medic bay. Steve had hoped you would soon be back to your former self, sadly he was wrong.

Silence is all he got since you left the medic bay. Instead of sleeping in his bedroom you moved back into your small room. All you said was that you could never sleep in his room before.

“Why changing things now…?” These words echo through Steve’s mind and he can blame no one else than himself. He was the one rejecting you. He was the one making you feel unwelcome.

Sitting in his empty room Steve glances at the gifts you sent back to him. Not once you accepted anything he wanted to give you. He’s silently sniffling as Bruce finally told him you were too afraid to tell your husband about your pregnancy. That you believed he would get mad, or even hurt you.

Hiding in your room most of the time, not even talking to Bruce you try to cope with the loss of your baby.

“What else can I try?” Choking on his words Steve pleadingly looks at Bruce. “I need her…”

“I don’t know, Steve. Honestly…” Sighing Bruce points at your door. “Y/N hasn’t changed her behavior, Steve. She always spends her days and nights alone. Just now you realize she’s not by your side. Before…”

“I get it, Bruce. All those months I ignored her and made her feel like she’s not welcome in my home. Y/N must’ve felt so lonely…” Steve wipes a few tears away, stepping closer to your room. “What can I do now…?”

“Steve, she lost her baby and got hurt badly by one of your best friends. Her brother used her to get information. Maybe she believes that everyone in her life only wants to harm her.” Bruce's words cut deep into Steve’s heart.

“You think my wife believes I wanted Natasha to hurt her? That I wanted her to kill our baby?” Desperately grasping the flowers in his hands Steve looks at his friend.

“Not the part with the baby, as you didn’t know but…” Trying to find the right words Bruce looks at the flowers in Steve’s hands. “She heard you and Natasha talk; saw you spend time with your friend instead of your wife.”

“Y/N saw me with Natasha? You think she believes I was with Nat…oh…god. Does Y/N believe I cheated on her with the woman killing our baby?” Sitting onto the floor Steve drops the flowers.

“I don’t know what Y/N believes or not, Steve. The fact is, she’s not leaving her room, not even to get food. I had to bring her lunch or dinner. Instead of getting books or go for a walk in the garden Y/N hides in her room.” Bruce gives his friend a cracked smile before he leaves him alone.

“She believes…” On wobbling legs, Steve gets up to grasp the flowers.

Whatever he must do he will do so. Steve is unwilling to give up on you…

----

Glancing at the book in your hands you try to read a few lines, but you can’t concentrate on anything but the dull ache in your chest or the loneliness you feel.

“Y/N…” A gruff voice brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to flinch as Steve enters your room. “Please talk to me, doll. I know the way I treated you was…” Kneeling Steve places the daisies onto your lap, looking up at you.

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you take care of your people, friends or anything else than me…?” Looking away you stare at the wall behind Steve, not caring he gently touches your hand.

“Please, Baby Girl. I need you, Y/N. The last weeks were hell without you. I want nothing more than hold you in my arms.” Steve’s voice sounds broken but all you do is sobbing silently before you get up to turn your back toward your husband.

“All this time, I wanted you to hold me in your arms. At night I was lonely and felt the coldness creep into my bones and heart. I needed you to love me back, but you didn’t want to. I knew you don’t love me, but I had hoped after we…” Sniffling you point toward the bed. “Maybe we could at least give each other shelter. I never wanted to marry you; Brock forced me into this marriage. There was that nice man I liked, and he liked me…”

“Baby…please don’t leave me for another man. I love you and I would’ve loved our child. I never wanted Natasha to hurt you, neither did anyone else. Bucky, he told her to not touch you, still, she hurt you…killed our baby…” Steve wants to wrap his arms around you but right now he offers no comfort.

“Don’t touch me, Steve. I know you only came to me to pretend everything is alright and that our marriage is not the farce it is…”

Bitterly spatting the words into Steve’s face you take a step back when he tries to touch you once again.

“Doll, I know you are hurt and believe I do not feel anything for you, but I just tried to suppress my feeling as I hate your brother. Brock, he’s the reason Bucky lost his arm, and I almost got killed.” Steve tries to explain why he hates your brother.

“My brother, he’s not a nice man. I understand you do not like him, but I never betrayed you. Please leave now…”

Steve silently leaves your room, while his heart clenches in his chest and he loses all hope…

----

Two more months passed in which you remained in your room, not letting anyone get close to you. Spring is close and for the first time, you walk out of your room, wrapped in a cozy jacket to have a look at the garden.

Your footsteps are unsteady as you step out of the Mansion, the large castle-like house you call your prison. No one dared to enter your room, not even your husband, so you were able to think about a few things in silence.

While you glance at the tulips you feel eyes on you and a shadow fall over you. With shaking fingers, you pick a tulip as Steve steps closer, not knowing how to talk to you.

“I’ve missed you…” Steve’s words make your knees wobble and you turn around to look into tired and sad blue eyes.

Steve’s hair is longer, a thick bead hides his chiseled jaw and you need a moment to recognize your husband as he’s wearing an old shirt and worn-out jeans.

“Steve…” His name leaving your lips is a balm to his sore soul and he tilts his head, giving you a shy smile before he glances at the tulip in your hands.

“I asked Wanda and Scott to plant flowers for you. I had hoped you would come here to have a look at the tulips and uh—hyacinthus.” Steve nervously holds onto his belt, waiting for you to talk to him some more.

“That’s a nice garden, thank you.” Your fingers are shaking when you gently slide them along his jawline, giggling as his chin is scruffy. “You grew a beard…”

“I can shave…I just…”

“Will you walk with me for a bit, Steve?” Grasping Steve’s hand, you intervene your fingers with his, making him gasp asat the gentle gesture.

For a while he’s silently walking next to you, enjoying you are still holding his hand. When you keep on talking he smiles, nodding now and then, afraid to say something wrong.

“Steve, I’m sorry for ignoring you for that long. I needed time to think about a few things. While I was in my room, I thought about leaving you and this marriage.” Stopping in his tracks Steve pants, looking at the hand holding his he shakes his head.

“Please, don’t leave me Y/N. I know…” Pressing your index finger to his lips you look up at your husband, giving him a sly smile.

“I thought about it but decided against it, Steve. I know we will need time to cope with the loss of our baby, but I want to try to be with you.”

----

“Bruce, do you think I should go to Steve’s room? I know he’s lonely, and I heard him walk around last night. I think he can’t sleep…” Your friend smiles, but he doesn’t answer your question right away.

“Y/N, I can tell you what to do or not. I only can tell you Steve misses you and that he regrets he ignored you for that long. Losing his baby and almost losing you hit him harder than you might think.”

Bruce squeezes your hand, encouraging you to talk to your husband.

----

Silently entering Steve’s room, you can see him lying on his bed. He’s holding a picture to his heart, not recognizing you stand in front of his bed, watching him.

“It was the first ultrasound Bruce made.” Sitting onto the bed next to Steve you  cover the hand holding the picture with yours. “I wanted to show it to you but was afraid you wouldn’t want a baby with me.” Sniffling you look up at Steve before you crawl onto his lap, cupping his face.

“Y/N, please believe me I would’ve been so happy to become the father of your child. I never was happier than the moment Bruce told me you are pregnant…only to tell me seconds later we lost it.” Sniffling Steve wraps his arms around you, bringing you close to his body. “I love you…”

Softly kissing his forehead, you close your eyes for a moment, just ghosting your lips along his skin.

“I love you too and I want to try again, not now but one day I’d love to have a child with you.”

----

Snuggle into Steve’s side you sleep peacefully in his arms. For the first time, Steve is wide awake but happy about it. Feeling you close to him and holding you in his arms is all he dreamed of for weeks.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, promised. No one will get close to you. From now on I’ll stay by your side, protect you with all my strength and make sure you’ll have all you need.” Kissing your hair Steve feels your hands gently caressing his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Steve. Can we sleep a bit? I’d like to tell you about everything I thought about over the last months.” Sleepily moving closer to your husband, you smile as he pecks your neck. “You’re scratchy…but I like it. Keep the beard and the longer hair…”

“Anything for you…my wife…my queen…Sleep now. I’ll be here in the morning.”

“Goodnight, my king…you know, I’m unwilling to give you up too…”

All works Tags

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[eboysheartthrob]

The Reason — A Bucky Barnes Romance.

Summary: there's none, actually, I'm terrible at this so I'll just resume for you. Bucky turns up to be face-to-face with his past. Now he must deal with his feelings.

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, smokin' hot smut, heart stabbing angst. It takes place between Civil War and Infinity war but Bucky is not a popsicle in the end. Mentions of abuse, torture and rape, so be careful and keep your mental health.

Word count: 1300+.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OC and big brother! Steve Rogers/ OC.

A/N: thank you for the love guys! Today was my first day at college so I got really hyped and here's another one. Love and feedback are always welcomed! ❤️❄️

Chapter Two.

Steve once heard Wanda quote one of her favorite authors over her feelings towards Vision. "There seemed to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance", she read out loud for him. And that would also resume what he felt while watching Bucky with his old roommate. Only three days went by, but he loved to have her sleeping over with them. Wanda helped her shop for normal clothes the very next day, but she kept her Hydra uniform just in case of something bad happened. Bucky had been telling her everything about the 21th century since she grew up blinded to anything besides Hydra's tyranny. Nora loved everything new, she would always observe her surroundings with a curious glimmer in her eyes that made her look like a child seeing the world for the first time. And she actually was, indeed. 

Steve liked the way that after every dinner, she would play some good old songs back from the 40's because she knew that would ease Bucky in a more peaceful night of rest. By matters, it eased him too. She would push them both into the small living room to dance, one at a time,  until they were almost breathless; the slow one's was her favorites. He didn't mind waking up to her figure half-sleep-half-awake in their couch, it was funny how her hair was all up and she couldn't barely answer a simple question. She was not a morning person.

By the morning of the fourth day, he woke up a little bit later than usual and headed to the kitchen after a cold shower that helped him get more alert only to find Bucky and Nora giggling in the kitchen. She wore soft pink pajama pants and one of his big henley's because that way she could pretend she was back in the 50's, staying late in his room. Classical piano music was playing softly in his phone, a steady and intense melody as he showed her how to properly flip a pancake on the pan.

"That's it, you got the way now", he said. "Good morning, punk".

"Good morning, Cap", she mimicked, looking over her shoulder and smiling over him.

"Morning".

The day passed slowly and calm. Bucky didn't do the usual Steve's routine, so he would only stay at home, reading, cooking, trying to learn more thing about this century. Now, with his little friend back, he was even more content on just spending time with her. Back in the damned days, there was times he wouldn't speak, mostly after receiving the shock treatment, but sometimes he just didn't have energy for it. Now, when they weren't chatting about nothing and everything, he enjoyed the confortable silent that rulled between them once in a while,

Normally, he felt thankful for everyone around him, but there was spare seconds that more dark thoughts filled his mind, making him feel like he didn't deserve any of this, the place, the friends, his new life. But when Nora would smile at him, he could see that little girl again. Bright eyes and all grins for him, happy to have someone that didn't treat her only like an experiment. Nora has been trough so much, he knows it, she told him everything in the first night when both couldn't sleep and she thought Hydra was coming back for their pet. She was scared they might found him too and she didn't want to ruin his life as it was now. She was afraid of hurting him. Little did she know he was better than ever.

The golden light of the sun setting framed her body, she was curled up by the window sill, lost in her book. Every second, different feelings washed over her features whenever she finished a line. Bucky caught himself way to deep in his observation. Feeling his heart hammer against his chest, he suddenly forgot he had to breath and cleared his throat, turning back to his own book.

In nights that both of them couldn't sleep, they would curl up in the couch together, dim light of a lonely lamp casting shadows around them. He liked to lay his head in her lap to listen to her soft and melodic voice as she chanted the words like a storyteller from the fairytales. She always lingered at him when it was his time to do the reading, cuddled into his side with the weight of his prosthetic arm around her shoulders, she felt safe. She didn't dare to fall asleep when it was his turn to read her bedtime stories, even though her eyelids couldn't take no more. Other nights, when they didn't feel like books, she would open the window for the cold air to sneak in trough the curtains, knowing he liked the fresh breeze. And she sang. Lovely slow songs from the old times and the new ones she had learned days ago, brushing her fingers trough his hair until he fall asleep on top of her. Bucky Barnes was just a big baby, and she loved that on him. How he would aloud only her to have this intimacy when no other could do more then hug him for a split second. She liked taking care of him. She always did.

When Steve got home from his routine, he needed a moment to absorb the scene in front of him. He lingered at the door frame, silently, as he watched Bucky swirl Nora around only to pull her close again. She still didn't get used to dancing, it wasn't something she was good at really, but he made sure to make her as confortable as possible. Taking her feet above his and leading the steps. Their giggles filled the air and the low lights worked their magic, their eyes locked onto each other without missing a blink. Steve didn't want to interrupt them with the subject he have to bring up to his best friend, so he silently made his way to his room and tried to sleep.

The other day, Bucky told him Nora was at the store next to the building, doing daily groceries because she needed to get out alone once in a while to take in everything around her. She was raised amongst technology, but the only information she had was the one Hydra permited. Both the boys were by the window, watching the rush of the city while sipping coffee casually.

"You have feels for her", Steve contested, not daring to eye his friend's reaction. It wasn't a question, and Bucky noticed it.

"Is not like that, punk..."

"Is totally like that, Bucky", he turned. "The way you look at her is the same way I looked at Peggy". There was a hint of melancholy in his voice that made Bucky cringe and squeeze his mug tightly, he knew how Steve missed his girl. Both of them watched as Nora hopped her way back home with two huge bags, one in each arm. Bucky was a fairly reasonable man. Fairly. He tried keep his emotions at bay and often completely ignored them. But when it came to Nora... Well, he just couldn't. She had a big part in his life, still as a mere child, she was there for him at his worst. She had seen his worst only, and yet was good enough to like him innocently. He couldn't help the  feeling of being at home around her.

"I've talked to T'challa recently", Steve admitted.

"The cat guy?"

"The cat guy", the blonde mimicked. "He was talking about how his younger sister would love to work on you. He said she can help taking Hydra from your head. Definitely."

"At what cost?" Bucky questioned, sudden darkness falling to the brightness in his irises.

"You must stay in Wakanda for some time, for the treament. Like... therapy."

He felt the urge to accept the offer without even thinking about it. Something inside his mind screaming he would be a lot safer around Steve, Nora and others if he went to Wakanda. He wanted to accept it, but first, he needed to talk to his best girl, ask how she felt about it.

Nodding, he gave a hopeful look at his friend and turned when the door swung open. The small girl hidding behind the brown bags of groceries, almost tripping on her way to the kitchen. Bucky imediately rushed to her side to offer help and she greets him with the sweetest smile. The smiling fade away when she noticed his serious gaze downing at her. She knew him well enough to bring that together. 

"Something happened?" She asks. Bucky nods and let a long sigh, a faint smile appears to ease her nerves. She felt her heart stop for a moment when he took her hands in his and started playing with her knuckles. Fingers slowly caressing her soft skin. She wanted to know what was that strange sensation in her tummy, like something was causing a havoc in her insides.

"There may be a way of getting rid of Hydra, take them out of my head", her face lit in hope and happines at his statement, but it soon washed over as he restarted to speak. "I gotta be far away for this, for a long time, maybe."

"Where?"

"Wakanda".

She nodded and stepped back, turning from him and tugging her own skirt between nervous fingers. She took a deep breath one, two, three times, and put a huge smile on her face as she turned back. 

"Anything for you to be happy", she dictated.

He was happy, yet afraid lingered there, lurking in his chest. He attatched at her words for a moment. She didn't used any word in the meanings of healing. She didn't even think he was broken at the first place. That thought made his chest heavy again, his heart started to pound intensily. How loving could she be?

Bucky catch the glimpse of what must have been a tear straming down her cheek before she whiped with the back of her hand, he instantly pushed her against him, embracing her until he could felt the sobbing and her shoulders bucking up against his arms. He tried to soothe her crying caressing long stripes across her back with his flesh hand.

"Yankee?", the mention at his old nickname made him chuckle. She didn't said his name or called him by his nickname since she came home with them.

"Yes, ledyanaya printsessa?"

"I'll miss you. Please come back this time". She said, rising her face just for him to take a glimpse at her teary eyes. With his index finger, he swiped them away and smiled fondly, pressing his chin against the top of her head.

"You won't get rid of me easily, printsessa."

[artemisegeria]

Scarlet Vision Dating Site AU

A/N: Inspired by this list of AU prompts for the: “I signed up for a dating website to get my mom off my back” au.

Human/No powers AU

 Wanda was going to kill Pietro.

She had set up an account on a dating site a year or so ago in a moment of desperation after her last bad breakup. She had checked on it for a few months before giving up. She’d focused on her friends and career since then and been perfectly happy without a relationship, but she was growing lonely again. Wanda decided to log in, for laughs if nothing else, when she saw what had happened to her profile page.

There was only one person who could have guessed her password and would have dared to mess with it. Her carefully selected picture that she had worked with Nat for hours to craft was now an image from her most awkward stage during her first year of college, when she wore braces, had been using the harshest black box dye she could find, and was flipping off the picture taker. Her interests were listed as long walks on the beach, watching Fight Club, listening to Nirvana, and planning to overthrow the government. Her bio said that all she was looking for was a strong man to take away her problems. Despite the disconnect between the different parts of her profile, Wanda had several hundred messages that she refused to open.

Insult was added to injury when the site would not allow her to make any changes without verifying her identity. Pietro had changed her security questions, too, and she could not crack them. She wished there was a chat option to contact customer service, but only a phone number was available. She dialed it and listened to the hold music, dreading the moment she would have to explain the situation. After fifteen minutes or more, a new dial tone sounded and the most beautiful voice she had ever heard greeted her on the other end. “Good evening, my name is Victor. How may I help you today?”

Wanda cringed. This would be even worse. “Uh, my brother hacked my account and I can’t fix it.”

“This happens surprisingly frequently. Do not worry.” Somehow, she felt soothed already. “May I have the name of the account?”

“Wanda Maximoff.”  

Wanda could practically hear him smiling through the phone. “At least your brother did not change your name to something I don’t feel comfortable repeating. That happens frequently as well.”

“I should be grateful for small mercies, I guess.”

“And am I correct in assuming that these were not your original security questions?” His voice was slightly choked.

“Yes,” she grumbled, wondering exactly what embarrassing answers Pietro had chosen.

“I must say your brother was thorough, but there is one more thing we can try. What is the phone number associated with your account?” She gave him her cellphone number. “Ah, your brother did not think of that. I am having the system send you an authentication code by text. Once you receive it, you can enter it on the log-in page. I will stay on the line until you gain access.” She entered the code, breathing a sigh of relief when she could edit her profile.

“I’m in. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome. Good luck with your brother.”

“Thanks. Have a good night.” Once Wanda had edited her page and security questions and picked a new password, she started planning her revenge.

***

Wanda was going to kill Nat.

Wanda had edited her account to keep Pietro out. She had not anticipated Nat accepting a drunken challenge from Pietro to hack her account a second time. Nat was the one who was most cheerleading for Wanda to date again, after all.

But Nat still locked Wanda out and merely shrugged when Wanda questioned her. No threat or cajoling made Nat divulge the new password she had chosen. Wanda was left to call customer service again. She was torn between hope and dread that the man with the golden voice would answer her call a second time.

“Good evening, how may I help you?”

Her hope won out. “Hi again, my friend locked me out of my account.”

“Miss Maximoff?”

“Um, yes. You remember me?”

“Yes, I have a condition called hyperthymesia, which allows me to remember most events in my life with clarity. I can recall our conversation perfectly.”

She thought of how it would be to remember every slight or every embarrassing moment or every bit of pain so clearly. She supposed there would be benefits, but she imagined it was not all it was cracked up to be. “I’m sorry. That must be painful.”

The man did not respond for a moment, and Wanda was about to apologize when he finally said, “Thank you. You are the first person who has ever understood. No one believes me when I tell them it is not a fun experience.”

“I imagine it’s a lot to keep track of. If all your past experiences are in your mind all the time.”

“Yes, it is difficult to focus on the present.”

“When did you realize you had this.”

“I was exactly five years and six months old. My care-givers thought something was terribly wrong with me, but the doctors insisted that my condition was difficult but not dangerous.” There was a pause on the other end before the man continued, “My apologies. I do not usually talk about myself that much.”

“No, no, I’m interested. Go on.” Wanda felt that listening to him read a grocery list would be entertaining enough.

He proceeded to tell her about his life. His early life in the foster care system in England. Finding his way to the United States. Working his way through college. Being desperate to find a job to extend his visa and stumbling onto the call center job. Wanda gathered that he desperately needed someone to vent to. When he reached the present day, he apologized again. “I did not realize that so much time had passed. May I hear about you?”

Wanda told him all about her days. She found herself telling him things that she had told no one else, with the safety of an anonymous person on the other end of a phone line. They continued until Wanda heard a vaguely threatening voice wherever Victor was. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I must go. Do you want the code to unlock your account?”

“Don’t bother. But since you remember my phone number, feel free to use it any time.”

“I will take that under advisement. Have a pleasant evening, Wanda.”

“You, too, Victor. I hope you’re not in too much trouble.”

***

Wanda was going to buy Nat and Pietro a present.

She still felt that she owed them vengeance, just for the principle of the thing, but she was willing to put it aside for now. She would buy them lots and lots of presents.

She tightened her arms around Vision, resting her head between his shoulder blades. One of his hands settled on top of hers. “Good morning.” His voice was hoarse and raspy; it made him sound even sexier than usual.

“Mmm.”

“Would you like to go out for breakfast?”

“Don’t wanna leave the bed.”

“I would make you something, but I could not help but notice when you gave me the-” his voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “…the tour of your apartment last night that you don’t have anything in your refrigerator.

Wanda smirked against his skin. “You weren’t complaining last night.”

Victor turned in her arms, kissing her deeply for a moment. “Oh, I would not dream of complaining, but I for one am rather hungry.”

Wanda’s stomach growled loudly just as Vision finished speaking. “I guess I am, too.” She yawned and stretched luxuriously. “I’ll let you drag me outside.”

They dressed and walked down the stairs to the street below. As they walked toward a nearby café hand in hand, Vision said, “Oh, I almost forgot, I think you’ll like the profiles I created for Natasha and Pietro.”

[sillyfeathers]

Butterfly (Maximoff Siblings)

Butterfly Warnings: mention of character deaths Relationships: Wanda Maximoff x reader, Pietro Maximoff x reader,  Steve Rogers x reader Summary: you’re the youngest sibling of the Maximoff family. Set after the events of infinity war, and mourning the loss of both your older siblings, Steve finds you one night remembering what your life was like before Wakanda. Words: 2,250

A/N: This was meant to be a short, normal tickle fic but it escalated into something... more. I enjoyed writing the reader character, and I think I’ll turn it into a series! Flashbacks are in italics, and are set pre AoU, post CW and during IW respectively. Also there’s nowhere near enough Maximoff tickle fics so I shall provide ¯\_(��)_/¯

Just for a minute, not even, you closed your eyes.

You rested your head on your folded arms, pushing away the papers and textbooks, and you closed your eyes.

Just for a minute, you told yourself.

Just a minute.

“Just a minute!” you called out to your sister, Wanda, scrambling to grab your things. You, Wanda and Pietro were taking advantage of the warmer weather to go to the park and have a picnic. Your parents had even said that you could go alone, given that you went to the park and only the park.

“Y/N, hurry up!” you heard Pietro yell, and you turned to run out the door; before skidding to a halt as you felt your backpack break.

“Oh god, oh god,” you mumbled under your breath, dropping to your knees and trying to shove everything back in, hoping the tear wasn’t big. But it was as though someone had taken a knife and sliced all the stitches loose: it was useless.

You blinked back angry tears, curling your hands into fists. Even though the bag was a few years old, you knew that your parents had paid good money to get one that would be able to last you through school – and now you’d gone and broken it.

“Y/N, what’s taking so long –” Wanda paused, seeing your hunched over frame through the doorway. You heard her walking over slowly, in the silent way she did when she didn’t know what to say, and you wiped your tears hurriedly.

But all the same, you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder. Wanda assessed the situation  without a word, taking note of the fruit and napkins spread across the floor and what was once your backpack discarded in a corner.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” she said after a minute. “Pietro and I still have some room in our bags.”

You shook your head, biting the inside of your lip so you didn’t cry. “Mom’s gonna have to buy me a new one,” you managed. “You know we don’t have that kind of money.”

By this time, Pietro had approached the sisters from behind, and you sensed him bend down on your other side, ruffling your hair.

“I’ve got an old one you can use in the time being, butterfly,” he reminded you, nudging you gently. You softened at the nickname, and offered him a weak smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You took a deep breath and stood up, rubbing your eyes. You were still feeling a little upset, but you managed to keep it hidden; at least, you did until you heard the thundering of rain against your roof.

That was enough for a frustrated sob to force its way out of your throat. Even though you knew it was impossible, you somehow felt like it was your fault.

"Hey – hey, it's okay, we can have a picnic inside!" Pietro suggested, the eagerness in his voice a little too forced. But you managed a nod all the same, turning away from him so he wouldn't be able to see the disappointment on your face.

"C'mon, butterfly, cheer up," Wanda said softly. "Forget the backpack – we have the house to ourselves!"

As she spoke, you felt the ghost of a hand running up your side, and you flinched, hiding a smile.

But before you could protest, Pietro had grabbed your wrists and was holding them behind your back, and Wanda was scribbling her fingers up and down your sides. You tried to resist, but soon dissolved into giggles.

"I'm – okahahay!" you squealed, falling to your knees in an attempt to get away from Wanda's fingers. But your siblings acted like they hadn't heard you, Pietro pinning you against the couch as your sister spidered across your stomach.

"Cheer up, butterfly!" Wanda teased as she crept her fingers up your sides to your armpits. You squirmed, a blush rising to your cheeks as you giggled. This playful side of Wanda was one that rarely was seen, and it made you happy to see her like this.

“Hehehey!” you giggled as Wanda fluttered her fingers around your ears. She smirked, but let you go. You fell back into Pietro with quiet laughter, burying your face in his shirt as you felt your face heat up.

“Mean,” you mumbled, your voice muffled. Your brother squeezed your side, and you yelped.

“You love it, butterfly.”

You jolted awake, your hands clutching at your own shirt. You could feel something damp against your cheek. You touched it gently, despite already knowing that you’d been crying. You felt a sob rising in your throat, and while your instinct was to push it down, you were alone, and your heart was aching, and so you just cried.

It started off as soft cries, but you were soon fully sobbing, your body jerking with each breath. Your tears stained the paper, smudging the work you’d done, and you found yourself grabbing it, ripping it to pieces. You didn’t remember what it was; you didn’t care. You were sad, and angry, so, so angry, because your family, your sister, everything you had was gone.

You felt yourself starting to lose control, your vision fading in and out and a ringing beginning in your ears. You pushed yourself away from the desk, but you weren’t prepared for the strength that surged through your arms and you sent yourself flying back, into the door.

No.

Into someone.

“Y/N?”

Steve.

You spun, pummelling your fists into his chest. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so lost, so broken, and so you fought.

But no matter how much brainpower you thought you were using, it was half-hearted, and you soon found yourself wrapped in his arms, sobbing into his shirt.

You emerged from the bathroom, rubbing your arms. The shower in the bunker only had two modes; an ice cold drip, or a scalding jet. You’d opted for the latter, but now your arms were covered in red marks from where the water had hit.

You didn’t know how long it had been since Germany.

You used to keep track of the days, and the places you’d been since Steve broke you all out, but you’d lost count a while ago. All you knew now was that the tiny bunker you were all in for the next few days was cold, damp, and lonely.

You were wearing one of Nat’s tops – an oversized nightshirt – and a loose pair of sweatpants. You found yourself collapsing next to your sister, wincing.

“Dumb shower,” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else. Wanda snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You curled into her side, closing your eyes and resting your head on her shoulder. It was late, and everyone was slowly dozing off. You felt Wanda gently tracing her fingers over your skin, and you relaxed into her, smiling slightly at the sensation. “Cut it out,” you whispered, biting your lip. She feigned innocence, tilting her head down at you. “I’m just making sure my butterfly isn’t in too much pain,” she replied, lightly tickling your stomach. You muffled your giggles against her chest, too exhausted to fight back, and if you were totally honest with yourself, you didn’t hate it.

It didn’t take you long to fall into a rhythm, giggling softly into your sister’s shirt as you drifted off to sleep. You weren’t sure when, or really how, but at some point you fell asleep and woke to Steve gently shaking your shoulders.

You blinked your eyes open. Wanda must have set you up with a pillow and blanket, because you actually felt quite warm. As your eyes adjusted, you saw that she, Steve, Nat and Sam were all awake, sitting around a low table in the middle of the room. Their hands were all wrapped around bowls – cold oatmeal, like every other morning – and you could see one for you, a space left between Steve and your sister.

They picked up a natural conversation as you joined them, crossing your legs and squeezing Wanda’s hand in greeting before starting your breakfast.

“How’s your skin feeling?” Wanda asked after a few minutes. Her face was innocent, but her tone had a teasing lilt to it, and you blushed.

“Fine.”

You’d both finished your breakfast, and it was almost too easy for your sister to gently take you by the waist, pulling you towards her as her fingers slipped under your loose shirt and began to dance across your sides and back. You were overwhelmingly aware that while the rest of the table seemed to be engrossed in conversation, if you made a noise then they’d notice you and your ticklish fate.

You were still pretty weak, and couldn’t get away without making a scene, so you buried your face into the crook of Wanda’s neck and giggled, melting at the gentle touches.

Despite your best efforts, the inevitable happened, and you were soon aware of the silence that had fallen across the room as they all watch you squirm in Wanda’s arms, the older girl laughing lightly at your predicament. She let you go after a few more seconds, but you stayed where you were until your face cooled down, internally cringing at the fact that your secret had been let loose.

When you resurfaced, conversation had broken out once again, although everyone was smiling a little more than before.

“I miss her.” It was the first words you said to Steve, still pressed against his chest in bear hug. He squeezed your shoulder comfortingly.

“I know, Y/N. But we’re going to get her back. All of them.”

You just nodded, hugging yourself closer to Steve as your brain slowly equalised everything. You both stayed like that for the next few minutes, in silence.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve eventually asked.

You pulled back from him, shaking your head.

“I just want to forget.”

“Hey.”

Your sister had her back turned to you, but when she heard your voice she turned around with a weak smile.

“Hey, butterfly.”

You sat down beside her, taking her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Your voice was small, and you avoided her gaze. You felt the cushions shift beneath you as Wanda sighed.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you. Vis and I just wanted to get away from it all, but…” she gestured out behind her, to where they’d just been discussing how they were going to handle Thanos and the Mind Stone. “It didn’t turn out so well.”

You hesitated, before leaning over and resting your head on her shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

There was a moment’s silence, but you couldn’t stop yourself any longer.

“I’m really scared, Wanda.” Your voice trembled, and you were only just holding back tears.

You felt her pull you closer, and you closed your eyes, pretending, just for a moment, that Thanos didn’t exist and that you were back in Sokovia, with Pietro, cuddling on the couch before dinner.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You shook your head. “I just want to forget.”

You pulled away from her, a sudden anxiety coursing through your body as you stood up, pacing around the room.

“I wish this never happened,” you continued. “I want to go back to Sokovia, with Pietro, and mom and dad, I want to go home, Wanda.”

Your voice broke, and you were sure you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. But for whatever messed-up reason, you just couldn’t cry. All the emotion was there, you could feel your chest and throat burning, but the tears just wouldn’t flow.

You cried out in frustration, digging your nails into your palms. You felt arms wrapping around you, pulling you close, and it was only when you were pressed up against your sister, with her whispering in your ear and squeezing your hand, that you found you were able to cry.

You sat down on the end of your bed, and Steve, on instinct, sat down beside you. He felt helpless. He’d seen you like this before, but he’d always had Wanda, or Sam, to go to and seek advice. But right now it was just you two, and he felt useless.

Well, not entirely.

He did have an idea, but he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. You were clearly hurting, and he didn’t think it was the best approach.

“Y/N, do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

You shook your head.

He paused, then carefully curled an arm around your waist, his fingers just brushing the skin.

“Do you want me to…” he faded off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. You knew what he was talking about, and you hesitated for a moment. You didn’t feel like laughing right now.

But you didn’t want to be crying right now, either. All you wanted was to forget.

And so, slowly, you nodded.

Steve pulled you even closer, and you relaxed into his side as he started to gently run his fingers down your sides. You closed your eyes, allowing a smile to pass onto your face, occasionally squirming or even letting out a tiny giggle as he continued.

It soon became less like tickling, and more comforting, and it didn’t take you long to fall into a rhythm.

You weren’t sure when, or really how, but at some point you fell asleep.

[thaisibir]

Bloodwrath (fic)

[Endgame SPOILERS] Wanda was born weak and poor, to a family that's no longer with her and in a country that no longer exists. Now she can strike true fear into the Mad Titan with her bare hands. [Oneshot. Contains Scarlet Vision and Maximoff sibling fluff. 2456 words]

Somewhere in the shabby urban sprawl of Sokovia, in the middle of a night that flashed lightning and wept rain, Wanda was born twelve minutes after her twin brother. Pietro had come out wailing between gasps, as healthy babies should. His little sister, however, emerged without a sound. She came out pale, limp, and still.

In the lush forest of Wakanda, right where she had knelt in defeat before her lover's broken, lifeless shell, Wanda came back surging with vengeance. She came back with enough power to rip apart the bastard who had ripped away her second chance for love, family, and happiness before her eyes. She stood straight, tall, very much alive, and ready to crack skulls in her fists. The very air crackled with violent red sparks of her aura.

The twins were born at home. Marya and Django Maximoff couldn't afford to have their children delivered in a hospital. Marya bit down on a rag to stifle her cries. The apartment was tiny and the walls were thin. The neighbors, most of them addicts and drunks, were best left undisturbed. The power flickered in and out, almost in the same rhythm as the thunder booming overhead. When Wanda wouldn't stir or cry, Marya clasped Pietro to her breast in silent, fervent prayer while Django rubbed Wanda's little chest with two fingers to coax her awake. For a while, nothing.

Then, just as the new mother and father believed that Pietro would be their only child, Wanda let out a thin, reedy wail.

Under the blinking lights, Django and Marya caught glimpses of a gaping cleft lip running up into their daughter's left nostril. Wanda struggled just to breathe and feed. She may have survived the night, but her parents feared that she wouldn't have long to live.

Wanda flew through the portal that Dr. Strange had opened up, away from the peaceful forest and thrust into the chaotic fray where the Avengers headquarters once stood. Flanking her were the Winter Soldier and the Falcon. From a portal nearby, the Black Panther had emerged with his sister, general, and army of Wakandans.

Wanda had held the dubious honor of outliving the rest of her family. When Thanos had snapped his fingers, she had turned her gaze upward in relief as she faded into dust. She could finally reunite with the loved ones she had lost and sorely missed.

But that death was not set in stone. The Avengers, the world, hell, the entire universe, still needed her. Thanos continued to pose a threat, and more importantly, Thanos could be stopped. If Wanda had a fighting chance in making that happen, she would take it gladly.

Five years ago, Thor had shouted it as a bold challenge for everyone to hear, but now Wanda muttered to herself through gritted teeth, "Bring me Thanos."

Pietro loved to run around outside, while frequent colds kept Wanda at home. She would look like a cocoon in her bed, swaddled in many blankets to keep her warm. Intractable coughing fits made her retch and gasp. She kept on a surgical mask to prevent the rest of her family from catching her bug. Going outside made her coughs even worse. The nearby factory always churned up smoke and contributed to the perpetual haze in her family's part of town. So Wanda would stay inside, away from the smog but also away from her brother, feeling left out and lonely, and wishing she wasn't sick all the time so she could play and keep up with him.

Somehow, despite the bad air, Pietro still dashed around the narrow alleys and bustling streets as the fastest kid. Sometimes he enjoyed challenging his friends to races and outrunning them, but most of the time he'd run to fetch medicine from the free clinic for Wanda. She would pull down the mask, then tip her head all the way back to wash down the medicine. She couldn't eat or drink like a normal person, or everything would spill out through the gap in her upper lip.

"Thanks," she'd always say to her brother, and one day she mumbled, "Sorry that I'm so much trouble."

"You're not trouble." Pietro plopped down on her bed and patted her back. "You're my baby sister."

Tears brimmed in her eyes and fell into the empty cup in her hands. "I wish I could be like you."

He pulled Wanda into a hug. "You'll never be me. You'll be better. You'll go farther than I ever could."

She pulled up her mask in time to cough into it. After catching her breath, she asked, "How do you know that?"

Her big brother grinned. "I had a dream about you last night. You're not going to run. You'll fly."

"Avengers, assemble!"

At Steve's rallying command, Wanda threw herself at the enemy without a moment's hesitation. She soared high in the air with Sam and plunged into the teeming, snarling horde. With savage swipes of her arms, by curling her fingers into claws and fists, she crushed chests and snapped necks without touching them.

Get out of my way. You're not worth my time.

Five years out of fighting had only fueled her anger, and stirred up that dangerous itch to hit the enemy where it hurt. Outriders twice her size and the amount of arms fell before her like wheat to a scythe. Wanda left piles of dead bodies in her wake. Avengers, Wakandans, wizards, and Guardians alike knew better to keep their distance and out of her reach. Could she tell friend from foe? No one on her side was daring or stupid enough to test that. The Scarlet Witch was on a bloody rampage, and for good reason. She didn't just wear red. She saw red.

Through the blood-colored rage filming Wanda's eyes, her target came in sight. Thanos ran to retrieve the Infinity Gauntlet on the ground, only for Wanda to intercept him with a slam of her feet into the earth.

She bared her teeth at Vision's killer. "You took everything from me."

Confusion flickered across the Mad Titan's face, then disdain. "I don't even know who you are."

"You will."

With that calm, quiet assurance, Wanda rose back into the air, picking up mingled remains of the Avengers headquarters and hulls of enemy ships. Thanos's genuine ignorance of her, and of what he had done to the love of her life, cut deeper than any taunting, gloating indication that he knew. She'll make damn sure that this Thanos from another time would know exactly who she is.

Much as her family wanted it so badly for Wanda, cleft lip surgery was much too expensive, an impossible luxury. Instead of having it fixed as a baby, she had to grow up with it. Wanda was afraid to go outside, not just because of the bad air, but some of the boys would follow her around and tease her, pry off her mask and laugh at her cleft lip. Pale, frail, and helpless, all she could do was hide her face behind her hands and cry.

Pietro got into fights with those boys. He could never call himself a good brother if he couldn't protect Wanda. He'd beat the boys black and blue, glare at their retreating backs, and dust off his hands. Then he'd turn around to dry the tears running down her cheeks. No one can make fun of his little sister and get away with it.

As long as she had her big brother always around, always looking out for her, she would be okay.

Debris buoyed under Wanda's control then hurtled straight down at Thanos. Braced with his double blade, he staved off the first, then the second. Wanda swung down joined hands like a hammer to send a shock-wave at him. He endured that, too, but she wouldn't give him even a split second to catch his breath or look away. 

You're not getting that Gauntlet. Eyes on me. 

She charged at Thanos like a bull, slinging blow after blow of her energy. Each impact to his arm, then his blade, knocked him back a bit, but not enough to topple him over. Wanda charged on. Power-laced hands clashed against the edge of a blade bigger than herself. Armed with nothing but her own thirst for revenge, that alone kept her from being cleaved in half.

She took on the infamous Mad Titan by herself. Held her own without help from anyone else. Either that made her very reckless, or just that strong. Maybe a bit of both.

Wanda wished that her first kiss with Vision had been under better circumstances, when she wasn't weak from sedatives and torture at the Raft. Still, she would never forget it, and would hold that moment close to her heart.

Steve freed her from that horrible shock collar and straitjacket, then stowed her, Sam, Scott, and Clint away into a Quinjet, where Vision awaited them inside. The sight of Wanda, who was subject to the most security and the worst treatment, who could barely stand and had to lean on support between Clint and Sam, robbed the android of his usual articulate, aloof manner. He pulled her into a fierce, tight hug, taking over the support from Clint and Sam, who let go of Wanda and quietly edged away to give the two a moment. So grateful to see Vision, and melting into the surprising warmth of his arms, Wanda too was at a loss for words. Even as Steve ushered everyone to strap in before they could take off, Vision and Wanda didn't break their embrace as they sat next to each other.

Across from the two, Clint, Sam, and Scott slumped in their seats and quickly fell asleep from exhaustion.

Vision rested a palm on her head, and she felt him tremble. "Seeing you locked away and treated like a wild animal...that's what I had feared the most. I wanted to protect you from that. I had failed. I'm so sorry, Wanda."

She shook her head against her chest, stifling a sob. "I'm sorry, too. We all are." Her wet eyes met his, and she closed the gap between them with a kiss. Vision stiffened with surprise, but held lips against hers and the gentle tug of his hand running through her hair sent a shiver down her back.

Vision pulled back with a puzzled look. "What's this?" His thumb brushed down the skin above her left upper lip.

Wanda couldn't help but pull away and avert her eyes. "I was eight when I had my cleft lip fixed."

The Smile Train charity was approved to provide free cleft lip surgery in Sokovia. Her family was among the first in line to schedule an operation for Wanda, just in time for her (and Pietro's) eighth birthday. He had been so happy and excited for her that he couldn't sit still while Wanda was wheeled away to the operating room. She wished she had been that ecstatic.

"I'm scared," she had whispered to Pietro.

He had squeezed her hand. "Don't be," he whispered back. "I'll be right by your side when you wake up. I promise."

After what felt like a nap, she opened her eyes to see that he kept true to his word. He even held up a little mirror so she could see the surgery's results, and had such a big grin from ear to ear that she couldn't resist smiling back, despite the stitches and soreness between her nose and lips.

Years later, none of her fellow Avengers had noticed the scar. It was hardly visible now, as if she had never been born disfigured. You had to get right up to her face, almost touch noses, and squint to see it. Wanda shouldn't be surprised that Vision would catch that small part of her. He was created to be a model of peak function, to exceed the limits of human mental capacity and sensory capabilities. And his name was Vision, after all. She wished that he would stop staring at her mouth, and her cheeks flushed.

"Don't be ashamed," he murmured. "You are beautiful." He planted a soft kiss on the scar to assure her of that. She smiled against the brush of his lips. Born without proper lips, and since the deaths of her mother, father, and brother, Wanda didn't think she had much of a reason to smile. Then Vision came around and gave her a reason.

Thanos used his greater height to his advantage. He pressed both hands and his bulk on top of the blade and leaned forward. Wanda bent back under the added weight, but her grip on the edge of his blade proved to be stubborn. No, she would not let Thanos press her into a corner yet again. This time she had both of her hands, and he had no Infinity Stones. Not yet. She would make sure he'd never get his hands on them.

I'm done with playing defense. My turn to play offense now.

That made her glare right up at Thanos and crack a smile. Not the soft, warm kind reserved only for Vision, but the fearless, confident, almost devilish kind that made Thanos regret that he had ever crossed paths with her. Gathering every ounce of strength from the raging storm of her mind, Wanda shifted hold of the blade into one hand, and cocked back her other arm. Scrunched up exertion turned into slack surprise on his face. That sent a wild thrill through her body like she had never known before. She had never felt this way with battle. Until now.

I'll tear you into pieces, Thanos, just like how you tore apart Vis. I think I'm going to enjoy it.

Wanda unleashed a mighty uppercut, throwing Thanos off balance and sending the blade spinning out of his hands. Her table-turning blow took a chunk off a blade that could bite through vibranium. Knocked back and disarmed, Thanos fell into the choking, red snares of her grip. Ignited by the sheer heat of her wrath, his own armor roasted his flesh before crumpling off like dead leaves. The man with the shield, the man with the axe and hammer, and the man in the suit combined hadn't inflicted this much harm to him.

From head to toe, his body screamed for mercy. For the first time in his long life of conquest and domination, he cried out for help: "Rain fire!"

With his life in real danger, he learned who his opponent was. This girl from nowhere, with no one and nothing left but a terrible power that he could not outmatch, was fear itself.

This fic's alternate title: How To Turn A 40-Second Scene Into 2000ish Words!

Wanda's comeback in Endgame turned me into the foaming mouth guy from Avatar: The Last Airbender. I enjoyed experimenting with the story structure, drawing parallels and contrasts between how weak she had started out and how much stronger she became.

-For the names of the Maximoff parents, I took them from the Avengers #166-187 comics.

-Wanda born with a cleft lip is, of course, my headcanon. I hope you didn't think that too strange.

-The fic's title "Bloodwrath" comes from the Redwall books (an anthro animal medieval fantasy series I grew up reading). Common among Redwall's badger warriors, Bloodwrath is a mental state involving berserk strength, thirst for battle, lack of fear, and blood-colored eyes. I thought that name suited Wanda's role in Endgame.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think of my take on the Endgame scene.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

you meet them for the first time- wanda maximoff

A/N: I am starting up preferences! If you want to see something, let me know!

One of the best things about being Tony Stark’s little sister was the fact that you could use all of his toys without asking permission. It was just the two of you, so he gave you access to his bank accounts in case you needed anything, and you used that to your full advantage.

In the last year, you’ve traveled throughout Europe, doing all the things you wanted to do since you were a kid. Being away from your big brother for so long got lonely which is why you decided to come home. It was time to get to know his hero buddies he’s been telling you about so much.

The only ones you knew of were Natasha, Steve, and Rhodey. You’ve been on FaceTime with them all before so you were excited to see them once more. Entering the new Avenger facility, you were told Tony was going to be here. As soon as you walked in, a female voice greeted you.

“Welcome in, Y/N Stark.”

“Whoa, where’s JARVIS?”

“Ask Mr. Stark. He’ll be able to get you up to speed on what’s been happening here lately.”

“And what’s your name?”

“FRIDAY.”

“Of course, it is. Well, thanks, FRIDAY,” you said as you bounced to the kitchen where you heard someone making noise. “Guess who’s back!”

The person inside the kitchen wasn’t Tony and wasn’t even a male. She was a beautiful redhead with milky skin and a nice smile. Damn, your brother has made some hot friends.

“And who are you?” you asked with a grin.

“Wanda. Who are you?”

“Y/N, Tony’s sister. I’ve been away and wanted to have a nice family reunion, but I found something better,” you winked, causing her to blush. “Wanda is a very nice name.”

“Thank you,” she spoke quietly.

“I thought I heard my sister’s voice!” Tony announced as he walked inside. Grinning, you jumped into his arms to give him a big hug.

“Who’s the hot lady?” you whispered into his ear.

“Wanda and she can destroy you in a blink.”

“Perfect.” That is how you like them.

If you want to be tagged, add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@vvishous @5aftermidnight @superapplepie @cutelittlepurplesouls @feelmyroarrrr @jointhehunt67 @xxloki81xx @fuckthatfeeling��@ragnorak-dust @ivvitm1109 @schwankyblock @kendall-michele

[mermaidxatxheart]

His Fire to Her Ice

A/N: Alright, so this is my second post, at the behest of @glide-thru. Let me know what you all think. I love love love love love feedback, tell me your favorite parts, what you liked, what you didn’t. Hopefully, there’s more of the former than the latter. Here we go.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Genre: Innocent healing fluff

Warnings: None, I don’t think. Maybe some language, but I’m not sure since kids are involved in this one. Oh, angst, lots of angst, hinting at past troubles and experimentation. 

Summary: Its movie night at the Avenger’s Tower and everyone is flying in. Y/N is one of the newest members, having been recruited by Steve. She’s still uncomfortable around other life forms for reasons that will become known. She hasn’t gotten much attention and love throughout her life; so when Bucky shows her that she doesn’t have to be alone, she gets a little freaked out.

Word Count: not as long as last time, falling in around 2, 796

Additional A/N: I literally wrote this in a day, so I hope it doesn’t suck too much.

“Lang, you know you’re not supposed to use the Avengers line for anything other than an emergency, right?” Natasha Romanoff asks, walking around the coffee table and kicking his feet out of the way. 

“This is an emergency. Cassie wanted to see it and the theater was sold out.” Scott replies, putting an arm protectively around his daughter. 

An enlarged ant is walking around the Avengers’ Tower living room, Cassie’s pet. The Black Widow takes her seat on the floor in front of Cassie and starts talking to her about school and friends. Clint’s kids scramble onto the couch behind her, join in and talking and laughing with Cassie. 

“Hey, Lang, this better not start chewing on the furniture.” Tony Stark says, gesturing to the ant as he moves into the kitchen. 

“He’s house trained, mostly. Relax, Stark.” Scott says with a wink at his daughter. Cassie giggles as Natasha pulls a tray of pretty nail polishes closer. 

“What one do you want, Cassie?” Natasha asks and you feel a twinge of envy. You can’t even remember the last time someone painted your nails or wanted to hold your hand. People have been afraid of what you’re capable of for as long as you can remember. It’s a lonely way to grow up, but you understand the need to be kept separate since you can’t control it. 

The blizzard blows around outside, almost as if it can feel you sitting in here and is trying to get in. In direct correlation, you’re getting colder, like the ice in your veins was trying to escape out the window, to join its brethren outside. It makes you ache, your hands hurt and your toes cramp, no matter how many layers you put on. 

“Where’s Rogers?” Natasha asks, spreading a paper towel out on the coffee table. Cassie slides onto the floor and places her small hand flat on the surface. 

“He has to go pick up the Manchurian Candidate,” Tony says with a roll of his eyes. It’s been a tough year, him getting used to having Bucky around, but he’s coming to an understanding, you think. At least, he’s been less hostile. 

“I don’t understand why Barnes won’t just stay in the tower,” Clint says, stuffing a bag of popcorn in the microwave. 

“Freedom,” you say from your armchair. Natasha looks over her shoulder at you and you have to resist the urge to shrink back into the shadows. She isn’t glaring at you, but you’re still getting used to being a part of the Avengers, and that includes joining in conversations. 

“I don’t understand. He’d be free here.” Sam Wilson says, making a plate of nachos. 

“In a way, sure.” you don’t want to offend Tony, this place is amazing and he’s been kind enough to let you live here, even after the trouble you’d caused a while back. 

“In a way?” Tony repeats, looking over at you. 

“This place is amazing, but it’s also a fortress. You have a ton of security measures and monitoring systems. Every time a door opens in this place you know about it and who went through it. After what he’s been through, having another person watching over his every move, even a friendly person, would seem like he’s traded one owner for another. I can understand wanting space and be alone.” you say as a massive thud from the roof shudders down the walls. You jump in your seat and look up. 

“You’re in his seat,” Sam says, looking at you. 

“Thor gets his own seat?” you ask and Natasha snorts. 

“No, Loki. He’s spoiled, what can we say?” 

“Understatement.” Bruce Banner says, walking into the kitchen. 

“And who invited him?” Clint sighs.

“I did,” Thor says from the entryway. You stand up and move towards the only other armchair but Bruce sits in it first, talking to Tony over his shoulder. You clench your mittened fists but move to sit at the far end of one of the couches. 

Thor brushes snow from his hair and pulls off a jacket. “There better be enough popcorn” he warns and moves into the kitchen. 

“Relax, Point Break, there’s plenty. We aren’t heathens.” Tony rolls his eyes. 

“T’Challa is here,” Natasha says, looking at the com-watch on her wrist. 

“Are we going to have enough space?” Bruce asks. 

“We’re just waiting on Rogers and Barnes,” Sam says, coming to join everyone in the living room. 

“Where’s Wanda?” Scott asks, glancing around. 

“She’s in her room. She’s exhausted from studying.” Tony says as the elevator doors open again. You wish she would come out and join you, if anyone can understand what you’ve been through, Wanda would have the closest idea. 

“We picked up Peter on the way.” Princess Shuri calls as she walks in with her young friend, followed by her older brother, the King of Wakanda. 

“Oh, thank god, I was so worried,” Tony says sarcastically, setting mugs of hot chocolate along the counter. 

“Hi, Mr. Stark. Thanks for letting me come. This is gonna be so much fun.” Peter Parker says, taking two mugs and handing one to Shuri, their fingers brushing in the exchange. 

“I’m not sure I had a choice,” Tony replies dryly, but you know he loves having Peter around. 

Despite the roaring fire, you’re still freezing, your sweatshirt and sweatpants are doing little to warm you up. You reach into one of the baskets next to the couch and pull out the heaviest blanket you can find. You pull it over your legs and tuck them up to your chest. Not for the first time you find yourself watching the easy way everyone has of moving around each other. And you’re jealous. The way they don’t think twice about bumping into each other, skin brushing against skin. They don’t have to wear a barrier on their skin to keep everyone around them safe. They have it so easy, never having to think twice about even brushing past another body. Even Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, can control her powers. They don’t seep out of her without her wanting them to. She has complete control. While you, a feather-light touch and it infects the recipient with ice, it spreads through their body and in a short time, they’re dead. 

Doesn’t matter how much you will it not to happen, how hard you plead with your own body to behave, it leaks out of you like air out of a balloon. It wants to get out and so no matter how hard you try and keep a lid on it, it gets out. So, you’ve isolated yourself, wrap yourself in sweaters, gloves, and scarves to keep as much of your skin covered as possible. But even that is no guarantee that it will protect the person sitting next to you. Especially with the wintry weather raging outside. You can’t even be sure that you aren’t causing the snow storm outside. Having never had the courage to test your powers, you don’t know your limits, but some days a pressure builds in your head like carbonation behind a cork, and you’re afraid a Nor’easter is going to erupt from your skull. 

“That’s such a pretty color, peanut,” Scott says, taking Cassie’s hands in his and admiring the paint job on her nails. You watch the interaction, unable to even imagine what that touch would feel like. And yet, you crave to know. You don’t want to be cut off from humanity, you want to be held, hugged, loved by someone. Your entire body aches for contact, hand against hand, body against body, kisses, hugs, for crying out loud, you’d settle for a high five at this point. Just something to keep you connected to humanity. 

The elevators open one more time and you realize you’ve been lost in thought for at least five minutes. So much for staying connected. 

There’s a rustle of clothing and shoes being removed and then Captain America enters, wearing a blue sweater and dark jeans. His beard is longer, fuller than the last time you saw him when he was convincing you to come to stay here. He spots you bundled up on the couch and waves as Sam greets him. You wave back, but you’re pretty sure he didn’t see the gesture in time. 

A second body follows him in and you’re suddenly thankful for the ice flowing in your veins, preventing you from blushing. 

James Buchanan Barnes. 

He’s beautiful, in a familiarly tortured kind of way. He stands just about as tall as Steve, dark black hair that is long enough to pull most of it back into a man-bun. The scruff on his face wasn’t as full as Steve’s but it still looked good, although it covered up that insanely sharp jawline. 

A mug appears in your vision, cutting you off from staring at Bucky some more. You twitch, looking up to see Steve holding it. 

“Thanks,” you say with a smile, taking it by the base. Steam curls off the top but you know that won’t last long in your hands. 

“You know, if you’re cold, we can always turn up the heat.” He offers. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m always cold.” You say. Sure, they know about your powers, but you aren’t entirely sure they’re aware how dangerous it is just to be around you. Although, as everyone starts to sit, they leave the space next to you open, so maybe they do know. 

You look down at the mug. The steam is gone and you take a sip. It’s cold now. If you hold it any longer it will turn into frozen hot chocolate. So, your layers aren’t going to be enough today. Maybe it’s a good thing that no one is sitting next- 

Bucky claims the last seat, wedging right next to you. Maybe it’s not too late to sit on the floor. You lean forward to set your mug on the coffee table and slide to the floor, but he’s captured your blanket under his legs. He smiles at you apologetically and rests his metal arm on the couch behind you. Your leg tingles where he is pressed against yours and you look down at it, confused. You’ve never felt anything like that before. 

“You’re so cold, are you okay?” he asks quietly. You nod as Tony turns on the movie. The tingling spreads up the side of your body wherever his contacts yours and you’re a little alarmed. It shouldn’t be leaking out of you this fast. 

“Bucky-“ you whisper, trying to scoot away when suddenly the tingling in your leg becomes more intense, like pins and needles. You’ve fallen asleep on your hands plenty of times before, and getting the blood flowing back through your veins is always painful, but this is worse. He looks at you curiously as you try not to disturb anyone while you pull away. He realizes what you’re trying to do and a disappointed acceptance crosses his face. 

“I’m not going to go crazy, you don’t have to move,” he says quietly. You stop and stare at him for a second, trying to catch up. He thinks you’re worried about him becoming the Winter Soldier? 

“What? I’m not worried about that. I know you wouldn’t-no, I’m worried about you. I-... touching-“ 

“Will you be quiet over there?” Clint throws some popcorn at you and you snap your mouth shut. “I can hardly hear.” 

“Well, turn up your hearing aid,” Natasha says, throwing a piece back at him. Bucky digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He opens a new message and typed something out. 

What’s the matter? 

You look at the phone, hoping you’re a quick enough texted to type it out before you ruin his phone. You pull off your mittens and flex your fingers for a second before taking it from him and typing as quickly as you can, dropping it back on his leg like it’s going to explode. 

I can’t control my powers. The ice makes people sick. I don’t need your death on my conscience, too. 

He picks it up and looks at it, his blue eyes reading over the words. He tilts his head, thinking about it. 

I’m used to ice. I’ve been frozen and unfrozen for 70 years. I’m sure I can handle some more. Also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I tend to run really warm. 

He hands you his phone again and you skim over the words. He pats the back of the seat but you’re hesitant to sit back. He pulls back his phone and typed something else before showing it to you. 

Trust me. 

You worry your bottom lip before making the decision to trust him. He scoots over an inch towards his best friend to give you a little more space. You ease back in against his frame, trying to limit the contact, but he was everywhere. 

His arm remains behind you and you can feel your frost spreading into the metal and your embarrassment rising. He gives a small sigh of contentment and shifts you closer to him so there’s more of you against his side. 

You tense, looking down at where you connect. “What is that?” you ask, careful to keep your voice only loud enough that he can hear it. He looks down, confused. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m not doing anything.” he frowns. 

“I feel....” heat. It pulses in your leg, radiating like a fire. You look at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t seem to understand. “Excuse me.” you shove the blanket off your lap and flee to the bathroom. 

Once the door is shut, you lean back against it and squeeze your eyes closed. Never, in your life, have you ever felt anything like that. It’s no wonder you didn’t recognize the feeling at first. Warmth has never been available for you to enjoy, your body only giving cold, never taking anything in. For your body to retain heat, even for a few minutes, it must have cost Bucky dearly. 

You press your fists to your forehead. Steve was going to hate you for killing his best friend just when they were starting to find a sense of normalcy. Time to face the music. You take a deep breath and open the door back up. Bucky is on the other side, hand raised to knock. 

“You’re okay,” you say, surprised.   

“Of course I am. Are you?” He holds out his hand to take yours, but you back up a step automatically. “Y/N, I promise-“ 

“Bucky, it’s not you. God, you...” you drop your face. “I’m so sorry.” 

“For what? I really don’t think we’re on the same page here.” 

“The ice should be almost to your heart by now,” you say quietly. “I’m surprised it’s not already.” 

“I don’t feel any different. I was finally feeling comfortable, but then you got up.” he chuckles. 

“Steve hasn’t warned you?” 

“He was supposed to warn me about you?” He quirks an eyebrow. 

You cast a look around and pick up the hand towel. Without even trying, ice crystals spread across the terry cloth of the towel. Within seconds, the hand towel was frozen solid. 

“That’s what happens when I touch someone. When I touched you, even through clothes. It’s racing towards your heart as we speak. Technically, you should already be on the floor.” you hand it to him and he takes it. 

Where his fingers touch, the ice starts to melt. “Maybe not.” he starts and almost just as fast as it froze, it was already defrosting. “Maybe, I’m warm enough to melt it before it gets there,” he says, tossing the towel in the sink. 

“That’s not.... it shouldn’t be...” 

“Possible?” he finishes for you. “And yet,” he takes your hand in his before you can pull away. “I’m perfectly fine.”   

“N-no, it’s going to kill you. Bucky, please-“ you try to pull away, so unused to being touched, it’s scaring you, even though it’s something you desperately want. But only because you know he’s going to be the one paying the price for it. 

The warmth is spreading up your arm now and in spite of the underlying pain from the cold being replaced with heat, it’s surprisingly pleasant. 

“See? It’s alright.” he starts to back up, pulling you with him. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“We’re going back to watch the movie. If we don’t, we’ll never hear the end of it from Steve.” He turns, still holding onto your hand and leading you back to the living room. He sits first and moves the blanket, pulling you back down next to him. He drapes the blanket over your lap and pulls you back against his side. 

You know this can’t last, this much exposure to your ice can’t be good for him, but he feels so good and you haven’t been comfortable in so long. 

It’s selfish of you, you know it is, but as long as he insists you stay close to him, you’ll oblige. 

Tags

@glide-thru @dsakita

@i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @everythingisoverrated @ellaenchanted91 @its-just-krys 

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (29)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Current Word Count -  82,329

MASTERLIST

Chapter Twenty Nine - Iron Dad In Law

Wanda arrived not long after the professor called her, the problem was she didn’t come alone. You stood in front of a good portion of The Avengers with an extremely disgruntled expression. Steve, Sam, Bucky, Clint, Tony and Wanda looked back at you innocently.

“Going inside my head isn’t a group activity.” You stated.

“We never do anything as a family anymore.” Clint grumbled.

“Is everything all right ma’petite?” Remy asked, probably noticing your distressed expression as he came down the stairs.

He stood next to you and casually put his hand on your hip as he looked at you in concern. You felt several pairs of eyes zero in on his hand.

“Who’s your friend Kit Kat? I’m Tony Stark, you know, her father? Also Iron man.” Tony said, puffing his chest up.

“Ah but of course Remy knows who you are Mr Stark, you are as they say, a legend.” Remy said charmingly, offering Tony his hand.

You felt Bucky’s eyes burning holes through your skull and tried not to look at him.

“Alright guys, why are you all here? We only need Wanda.” You asked.

“Moral support.” Steve offered.

“We missed you.” Sam tried.

“Uh huh, and the real reason?” You pressed.

There were a few awkward looks amongst them and they didn’t answer.

“Oh my god, are here to make sure I’m not poached by the X-Men?” You asked, outraged.

The guilty looks were answer enough.

“Unbelievable.” You muttered.

“We’re just protecting our interests!” Clint tried to defend.

Sam and Tony took a step back, separating themselves from him while Steve looked apologetic. Bucky just continued glaring at Remy.

“Your what?” You snarled at Clint and he paled.

“Our friend, we’re protecting our friend!” He backtracked.

“Ah ma’petite, you are a most powerful and striking warrior. Do not be so harsh on those who fear losing your alliance.” Remy soothed you.

Your anger visibly deflated and you went from furious to mildly irritated as Remy squeezed your shoulder comfortingly.

“Fine. I don’t have time for this anyway. WILSON!” You yelled.

“Jesus, I’m right here!” Sam grumbled and you shot him an absolutely vicious smirk.

“I wasn’t shouting you.” You informed him.

Right on cue, Deadpool came sliding down the banister.

“Yes honeybun? OH AVENGERS!” He shrieked so loudly you all winced.

“Oh man this is the best day ever, The Avengers AND the X-Men! I can finally fulfill my lifelong dream of being the stuffing in a Wolverine/Captain America meaty man sandwich! Cap! Such an honor!” Deadpool rambled, saluting Steve.

Steve looked perplexed and Sam shoved his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing. Wade peeled his mask over his mouth as he reached Clint.

“Super pleased to meet you Mister Haweye sir, wow your arms are even more magnificent in person. Those are the kind of arms you want holding you up against the wall and wrapped around you afterwards, know what I mean?” Clint just shot him an amused glance and definitely not on purpose, flexed a little.

“The other Wilson. My brother from another mother.” Wade offered a fistbump to Sam, who gave it as he shook violently from the effort of containing his laughter.

“How’s the Night’s Watch going Jon Snow?” Deadpool asked Bucky, who just glared at him unamused and that was it, it was too much for both you and Sam.

Even Tony and Clint smirked as you and Sam damn near fell over laughing and Wanda’s amused giggle caught Wade’s attention as he more or less floated over to her. You hurried over, to protect Wanda from Wade’s advances.

“She’s with Vision, Wade. Back off.” You warned him before he could do something untoward and gross.

“So? You’re with...” You panicked and stamped on his foot and kneed him in the stomach before he could finish his sentence.

“You’re with who?” Tony snapped, alarmed as he glanced suspiciously at Remy.

Everybody else, who knew you were with Bucky looked at you expectantly and you froze.

“Oh sorry Iron Daddy, she wanted to be the one to tell you.” Wade said, well wheezed.

You shot him a warning look that was more panic than anything and the evil merc threw his arm around your waist and dipped you dramatically.

“We’re in luuuuurve.” Wade said in a sing song voice.

You were stuck. You either refuted Wade’s claim and he’d probably tell Tony you were really with Bucky or you could play along. Neither option was particularly attractive. You caught Bucky’s eye. He was looking at you expectantly with a raised brow. At least it would be easy enough for Bucky to understand. You hoped.

“What can I say? I love a man in head to toe spandex.” You said and Tony looked like he was going to be sick.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You had never met anyone like Charles Xavier. Somehow, his mere presence had wrangled the assorted superhero’s into behaving without him having said a word.

“I believe it is best if Miss Maximoff unlocks the memories first, then I will step in, metaphorically. I will hold the memories in stasis while Miss Stark sorts through them one by one so she is not overwhelmed. Miss Stark had requested Mr Wilson, that is Wade Wilson be present for the process.” Xavier explained.

“Wade has excelled healing, if my abilities go haywire he’s the only person who can get near me.” You explained.

“Not the only one princess, I’ll be there as well.” Logan said from the doorway where he was leaning, half in the room, half out.

“Logan’s own healing allows him to safely approach.” Xavier assured you and you nodded your assent.

“Kit Kat, can I have a word? In private.” Tony asked.

“No.” You said.

“Come on kid, please? He tried again.

“Tony you’re not going to talk me out of this. I’m not mad you all kept it from me, if you’re telling the truth then you were only doing as I asked. But I was being an idiot and a coward. I need to remember what I did and learn to live with it.” You told him.

He sighed heavily and shrugged in a ‘do what you want’ kind of way.

“Before we begin, I think we need to know the exact nature of your request and the events leading up to it.” Xavier told you and you turned to Wanda.

“So did I ask you to take my memories before or after Vernichtung healed my bullet wound?” You asked her and she looked taken aback.

“How did you…?” She asked.

“Well I can’t heal on my own but my mother could, makes sense that in all the mutations that were forced on me there’ an original one, a natural one.” You explained.

“You’re right. Bruce thinks it’s why Docherty wanted you in the first place. You were primed to survive the alterations he made to your DNA.” Tony said heavily.

“Right. So what happened?” You asked.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

AFTER MEXICO

Helen Cho hung her head low and sighed heavily. She had done all she could and there was nothing more that could be done.

“Call it.” She said sadly.

“Time of death, 2:37 am.”

With a heavy heart Helen steeled herself to tell Mr Stark his daughter was dead. She turned and walked to the door when she heard the lone beep of the heart monitor and paused. A few long seconds passed and there was another beep and then another.

“She’s alive.”

Your spine bowed dramatically and your back arched off the hospital bed as the monitors started going haywire. Your eyes shot opened and locked onto Helen’s. You ripped the tubing from your throat with a squelching sound before she could stop you.

“Run.” You gasped as the black veins began to ripple over your skin.

“Everybody out, now!” Dr Cho demanded and the room cleared in seconds.

She was the last to leave and she looked back at you from the door.

“RUN” You screamed desperately as your eyes darkened into the terrifying obsidian.

She listened, running as fast as she could.

“What’s going on?” Tony demanded as she ran into him in the corridor.

“Vernichtung.” She gasped in explanation.

Tony looked like he was ready to rush into the operating theatre as a loud crashing came from the room and Helen grabbed his arm.

“She told us to run.” She tried to warn him, like you had warned them.

“That’s my daughter in there!” he argued, trying to pull away.

“Mr Stark! I don’t think it is.” She said apologetically.

As if to punctuate her point there was an inhuman scream from the surgical room. It was high pitched and animalistic, and sent a chill up the spine of everyone in earshot. There was one last crash and then nothing. An eerie silence that was almost loud in it’s lack of sound settled over them like a heavy fog.

The doors at the end of the corridor crashed open and Wanda stumbled through them, a pained expression on her face.

“Where is she?” Wanda gasped.

“Miss Maximoff? What are you doing?” Helen asked, rushing over in concern, medical training kicking in as she hurriedly checked Wanda over.

“Tony, I have to go to her. She’s screaming for me, I can hear it in my head. I need to help her.” Wanda sobbed.

“Mr Stark we don’t know what is in that room, you can not go in there.” Helen snapped.

“Tony please. She needs us.” Wanda begged.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Tony told them.

“Mr Stark. TONY! You can’t.” Helen begged.

“That’s my little girl doc, no matter what colour her eyes are.” He said resolutely and rushed into the operating theatre.

You were curled into a ball on the floor, your body shaking as you sobbed. Tony fell to his knees next to you and pulled you onto his lap.

“It’s ok sweetheart, I’ve got you. It’s ok.” He assured you.

“Pain and blood, so much pain and blood.” You whimpered.

“Where does it hurt Kit Kat? Tell me.” He begged.

You shook your head and clutched onto him.

“CHO!” He yelled, standing up and carrying you in his arms into the corridor.

As soon as she saw you Wanda reached out for you and Tony carefully placed you next to her. You and Wanda wasted no time in latching onto each other.

“There’s so much screaming in her mind.” Wanda said.

“Wanda, I need you to make it stop.” You begged.

“Her wound is gone.” Helen noted.

“Wanda lock it away, all of it. You need to get rid of it and NEVER tell me what happened.” You sad vehemently.

“Yes Sestra, I can do that.” Wanda assured you.

“Wait what?” Tony asked.

“It’s too loud, for both of us. The memories, they are hurting her too much. We need to lock them away in her mind.” Wanda explained shakily.

Tears tracked down Wanda’s face as she raised her hands to your temples.

“Hold the memories you want gone tightly, I will put them away.” Wanda told you as the red light crept around your head.

It took no more than a minute before you slumped over unconscious and Wanda breathed a sigh of relief.

“It is done. She will sleep for some time and when she wakes up she won’t remember. We can’t tell her anything or it could hurt her even more.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

PRESENT DAY

“I died?” You asked in shock.

“Yeah.” Tony said and that one world held a world of hurt.

You went to him and wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“Are you apologising for dying? Really?” He snorted with false amusement.

“Miss Stark, Miss Maximoff? May I speak to the two of you alone before we go any further?” Xavier asked, leaving the room without waiting for an answer.

You and Wanda exchanged a look and followed him to his study.

“Miss Stark the trauma you experienced seems to be stronger than I anticipated if it was enough to affect Miss Maximoff in the way it did.” He noted.

“Wanda.” You said sadly and she turned to you.

“It was not your fault Sestra, I just wanted to help you. I could have shut you out if I needed to.” She assured you.

“Are you saying you chose to put yourself through that? You could have just turned it off?” You asked, horrified.

“I didn’t want you to suffer, or suffer alone.”

“Miss Maximoff, did you see the memories you locked away? It is important you tell me anything you can remember.” Xavier pressed.

“There were flashes. Blood mainly, Blackness and...broken glass I think?” She remembered.

“I see. And are you confident we can proceed without you causing yourself pain?” Xavier asked.

“I can bring the memories out from where I buried them and let you take over without hurting myself.” Wanda assured you both.

“Well then, now we have a better idea of what we are expecting, are you sure you want to proceed Miss Stark?” Xavier asked you.

“I… I don’t know.” You admitted.

When you had found out your memories were taken, you immediatley wanted them back. Even when you found out it had been your choice you had been determined to do better than your past self. Now, you were wondering if it was the right choice. You already knew what had happened, if you wanted to face up to what you had done you could just watch a damn video of all the bloodshed. Did you really need to remember the aftermath?

“It remains your decision.” Xavier reminded you.

“What do you think I should do?” You asked Wanda.

“Sestra, you are my friend. My family. I love you and do not wish to see you in pain. I want you to let it be but I will support you if you choose to do this.” She told you, reaching out to take your hand.

“I feel like, if I don’t do this, if I just move on… I’m condoning what happened. What Vernichtung did. I know it’s not me but I still have to be held accountable. And I know they were Hydra, they didn’t deserve mercy but I still have to allow myself to feel guilty or I’m no better than them.” You explained to them.

“A noble way of thinking.” Xavier praised you.

“Let’s do this.” You decided.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were tied down at your own request, while Wade made jokes about how Logan could tie him down anyday. Tony and The Avengers were close by but not in the room.

“Are you ready?” Xavier asked Wanda and she nodded, standing by your left shoulder.

“Once you have led me to the memories and unlocked them, I will take over and you may leave the room until it is safe to come back.” Xavier told her.

“Alright. I won’t be far though.” She assured you, or maybe herself.

“Are you ready Miss Stark?” Xavier asked.

“To have two people pick apart my brain like cotton candy? Sure, why not.” You said with a confident grin.

The red mist spread from Wanda’s fingers and you thought you could hear The Professor’s voice inside your head and then it went dark.

“Hello?” You called into the darkness.

There was no answer. You frowned and spun around in a circle, looking for something, anything other than darkness.

“Professor? Wanda?”

You were starting to worry, this wasn’t part of the plan. You stepped forwards, or maybe backwards. There was no direction in this place. Something crunched under your foot and you knelt down to look. There was broken glass littering the ground. You picked it up and saw your reflection in it.

Not broken glass.

A broken mirror.

You remembered now. Everything you had tried to forget. You had made a terrible, terrible mistake coming here. You weren’t trying to bury memories, you were trying to bury IT.

“Welcome Back.” Vernichtung said as it stepped out of the darkness with a vicious snarl.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Reader: Dad, I'm dating Wade Wilson. Tony: *sobbing* Why would you do this? Whyyyyy? Reader: SIKE! I'm actually dating Bucky Tony: Oh thank God! ... ... ... Tony: Wait WHAT?

I REALLY need to update the summary of this story. It does not explain a damn thing. I'm awful at summaries.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@chook007@thejourneyneverendsx@thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher@kendrawr-kitkat@phoenix-whiskey-tears@the–real-wombat@buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt@meganjonezzzz

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty@memanda17@krystallynx@theonelittleone

@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard

@dropthepizza346 @jaynnanadrews @likes-to-smell-books @drdorkus

@life-wanderer @metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky @jsmith509

[wanda-chaos-witch]

My hand is simply too soft a touch to imagine spurring them.

She found herself wondering if his hands were indeed as soft as they were warm. How they would feel on her bare skin.

Her face flushed.

She supposed this was why women were supposed to wear gloves. She looked down at the ones she was wearing. The thin fabric prevented them from ever touching.

“I find that if you need use a crop you are a poor master. A good master will show kindness and be obeyed out of respect.” Wanda replied.

The song changed into a new one and they began the appropriate dance.

“I cannot imagine life without my brother. He has been my companion since birth. We are twins you see.” She smiles fondly over at her brother who had now switched partners.

“That must have been so lonely for you, I’m very sorry.” She gently squeezes his arm. It’s like she can tell what he’s thinking.

In reality she merely has two men in her life who don’t speak often about what’s hurting. She can read faces very well.

Skilamalink

Erik Lensherr is throwing a party. He is new in town and so everyone is going. It's only polite- Well his sort-of-father isn't going. Lord Stark has sent his not!son but heir in his stead and he wonders if this is a test. After he found out his wife Virgina could bear him no more children and with only a baby girl the twenty-something Victor Shade had been found - courtly accessed as distant family and the proper heir to the family fortune and snatched up from his world. That had been fifteen years ago and he still didn't feel properly part of this one. He was groomed educated and now expected to find a wife that came with a fat purse and settle down, make heirs of his own. He didn't want to. It wasn't that he disliked any of the ladies he had been introduced to- He liked everyone really. Victor thought most everyone was interesting and fine enough- but he had no desire for them. He had never had any desire for anyone. Never even truly liked anyone a great deal more than anyone else. He was reasonably sure he was broken and going to be forced to marry someone one day and he only would disappoint them. Not that anyone was expecting him to look for a bride tonight. No- these were local folks and far below the expectations that had been placed upon him. A pedigree was wanted to contrast him. Someone born into old money who knew the ins and outs of the world. Lady Virgina was in charge of finding one but so far he'd done a good job of making his disinterest in each one known. As much as he hated disappointing Lord and Lady Stark- he wasn't going to be a lifelong disappointment so some poor woman he couldn't manage an inch of passion for. The lawyers could find some other heir when he died childless. The coach pulled up to a stop and he exited as gracefully as he could muster. "Mr. Lensherr." he greeted his host with a curt nod of his head. He was above him, on the social ladder and was expected to play the part. Who he could only assume were the man's children stood beside him. A young man and two young ladies- his eyes paused on a pair of green eyes. Something in his chest tightened. How very odd...

[killcapitalizm]

since u asked; wanda maximoff

summary: wanda makes a new friend months after having no one. romance ensues.

word count: 1,960

warnings: i didn’t edit this (do i edit anything?) and this probably isnt my best fic ahhh. 

a/n: as much as i love peter parker, i still need to satisfy my own gay needs. i love wanda. she's cute. i listened to/loosely based this off of since u asked by swim good x merival. anyways back to peter after this y'all dont worry

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And after the violence against Ultron that had resulted in her dear brother’s death, Wanda had decided that maybe shutting out others would be the best way to cope with that. It was awfully lonely but she’d rather sew her own heart back together than have Steve lay his hands all over it, where he’d surely expose her raw emotions to whoever asked him. As much as she appreciated him, he was terribly pushy.

Really, everyone of the Avengers had their own traits of pushiness. It made the compound feel incredibly smaller than it was. Despite how much her privacy was respected, when she emerged she felt emotionally violated. It was unclear to her how no one, not even Natasha, who didn’t even let herself witness her own true feelings, understood that she’d like to keep her trauma to herself.

But within all the metaphorical walls she was able to find peace, and that lied with you. You were a strange sight to her, to see someone so young working with the older members of the group. And yes, she too was young, but that is one thing that set her apart. You were older than her, but not by much. Your face shone with soft innocence. She wondered if you were supposed to be here, in a group of people whose pasts were all either written in the bags under their eyes or desperately painted over, so obvious that you could only assume what they’d seen.

Your eyes were kind, too kind. The bags under then were lighter than even hers, and they came from the history of a student rather than of an abused child or being raised to kill or seeing your best friend fall to his death. Wanda had once dared to peer into your mind, and you hadn’t noticed because you had no powers like she did. She assumed that you must be incredibly smart, as that was the only factor she could think of that would allow you into such a specific group of superheroes.

Later, that assumption was confirmed, when Steve had noticed how carefully Wanda was observing you.

“Stark found her, as per usual,” he had said. “Her name is Y/N. She’s really smart. Good with technology, science. Pretty wise for her age, too. You should talk to her.”

“And why should I talk to her?” Wanda watched you from afar as you followed Bruce off to wherever.

“Because she’d be good for you. I say that a lot, but she doesn’t act like us adults. She’d understand you better than I ever could.”

“Sure,” said she, but the urge to talk to you overcame her just as strongly as the urge to close herself off had cam all those months ago.

You mostly hovered around Bruce, which made it hard for her to approach you. Wanda knew Bruce held a grudge against her for the time she had pried at his head and that provoked a fear of him. A silent warning to keep a distance between him and herself. Steve insists she has nothing to fear.

But it was a real fear. So instead, she opted to wait until you were away from Banner and had your hands free of any work. Granted, she had to wait for another week, but she had learnt that it was worth that wait.

She caught you on your way to lunch one day, and indeed you were what Steve had said and everything she had wished you were. Kind and glowing. You asked her to lunch and she was more than happy to comply.

After you had convinced her to grab more than just an apple for lunch, you sat down with her and conversation turned out to be easier than Wanda had expected. You got her to talk about things that Steve Rogers couldn’t pry from her after months of trying.

“It’s terribly lonely,” said Wanda as she ate a full sandwich for the first time since she returned from Sokovia. “But it never feels right to share with anyone. I do trust everyone but not with my thoughts. Without my brother, I haven’t been able to really talk to someone.”

“You’re talking to me.” You smile. “You don’t have to tell anyone anything, despite how badly Steve wants you to share. If you feel lonely, there will be people who will listen to what you have to say. Sometimes you can’t wait for your feelings to catch up. Sometimes you need to talk, and after those first few words it becomes much easier to speak.”

“How old are you?” Wanda asks.

“Nineteen, dear, I’ve already told you.”

“Irrelevant,” she tells you. “Your words are older than your body.”

“How eloquent of you.” Your cheeks turn pink.

“Where do you get your advice from?”

“Myself.”

“Tell me how.”

“Well, since you asked,” you sigh lightly. “I should say I don’t really know. I’m a grown up now. Keeping a thin outlook on life is a waste of my youth.”

“Tell me more.” Wanda leans on the table.

“I don’t know. Leave the past in the past. Look to the future with a broad gaze. I speak from emotional experience. Being good with words helps, too.”

She wanted to look into your head, but something told her not to. There was a peculiar beauty in leaving your thoughts unknown to her, in letting you tell her when you wanted to.

Her room was on the other side of the compound but that didn’t stop you two from seeing each other every day.

She went to you with her thoughts and emotions and she found solace in your gentle brightness. She cried once when talking about her brother. You held her to your chest and your heartbeat reminded her to breathe. You told her that her awful sadness won’t last and then you told her a story of your aunt that found strength in colors and she blushed when you told her she’d look lovely in yellow. She decided to tell Steve, who was incredibly happy that Wanda had made a friend and perhaps something more, she told him that her heart feels so amazingly light when you smile. Steve told her that she was feeling love and she asked him what that is. He told her, “Wait a bit, and when you need to know, ask Y/N.”

She wanted to ask again, but she decided to follow Steve’s advice. So she waited, she waited for a month until that feeling in her heart was so strong that she was sure that her chest would burst open. A month of talking to you daily, really talking. She started to sleep in your room instead of her own, and then she sometimes would sleep in the same bed as you. You’d hold her close with a knowing smile and you waited along with her through all of those nights of agonizingly amazing hugs.

And after that month of being able to talk to someone, she decided that she had to know what Steve meant by love. She had love for her brother and love for her mentors and love for the little children she’d sometimes see when she was out and about; each was a different kind of love.

“Steve told me I love you,” Wanda said one morning after a night of sleeping with your limbs tangled together.

You paused and turned to her, a shirt in hand. “Steve said that?” You didn’t bother to hide a smile.

“Yes,” she answered. “He said to ask you when I really need to know what he meant.”

“Well, that’s clever of him.” You put on the shirt and sit next to her on your bed. “I suppose he wants me to explain this to you.”

“I’d assume so.”

“I’ll start by saying that I love you, too.” Wanda felt her heart swell and she rested her hand on her chest to keep it from tearing through her skin. “There are different kinds of love, I’m sure you know that, and I can only hope you feel the same love for me as I do for you.”

“What kind of love do you feel?”

“Romantic love.” You bite your lip, hard.

“Tell me what that is.” She’s certain that she feels romantic love for you. Absolutely sure, but she wants to know what it is.

“Well, there’s a love for family and a love for friends, but love for a lover is stronger than that. If your romantic love is true- and I assure you, mine is- then it is greater than any other love. That doesn’t cancel out everything else, but it is entirely different.” You swallow. “Typically, you’d want to spend the rest of your life and then more with your lover.”

“I feel that,” Wanda said. “I feel that. For you.”

“Are you sure?” You take her hand in yours.

“I’m sure.”

“How sure?”

“Certain.”

You focused only on her hand, doubting her supposed certainty. You refused to make eye contact, because although she respected your privacy and didn’t ever dare to use her powers to look into your head, you knew she could very easily tell how you felt from your expression. The more time she spent with you, the more she noticed the smallest of details about you.

“I’m certain, Y/N,” she repeats, “I know this.”

“I don’t know if you do,” you say. “I don’t think I explained it well. Really, you can’t explain love at all, so you can’t just trust me to tell you how you feel…”

“But I know what I feel. I love you, a different kind of love than what I feel for everyone else or what I feel for my brother.” She places her other hand on yours. “Much stronger, but in an entirely different sense. Something greater than all other feelings. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart swelled in your chest and you gripped her hand firmly. “Oh, Wanda,” you murmur, finally daring to lift your head. Her face is just inches from yours, and you can’t help yourself after hearing how she spoke about you. You lean forward and kiss her, and to your surprise she kisses you back. You had thought that since she had supposedly didn’t know what romantic love was, she hadn’t known how to kiss (really, she was just doing what you were doing).

Something swelled again in your heart, stronger this time, and you freed one hand and placed it at the back of her neck; when you pressed closer, you could feel the heat of her face on your skin and both of you knew that your hands were getting awfully clammy. Soon you’d pull away only to have her pull you back. She really didn’t know how to kiss, it was sloppy and new.

You managed to pry her from your lips long enough to hold a short conversation, “Does this mean we’re dating?”

“What does that mean?” She kept her face close by, eager to continue.

“You know, when you love someone as a friend and everyone knows you’re friends… When you love someone like this, you first begin with dating.”

“Then we’re dating.”

“That means you’re my girlfriend.” You couldn’t help the smile that overcame your face.

“And are you my girlfriend?”

“Yes.” She matched your smile before pulling you back in.

“So you told her?” Steve hums. She’s been sharing a lot more with him lately.

“Yeah, she’s…” Wanda bites back a stupid smile. “She’s my girlfriend now.”

“Girlfriend?” His face beamed with pride. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, rolling her eyes when he gave her a suggestive thumbs-up. “Yeah. She’s great.”

[asseret-sarim]

When I met you in the summer -Part 2

Summary: Working as a bartender in a five star hotel while a rich and famous family is staying over for a month, and one of their sons, Bucky, happens to have an eye for you, is a dream right? Right? Wrong!

Chapter 2: Power

Fandom: Marvel

Y/N: your name

Warnings: heavy mentions of rape, cursing.

Part 1

A/N: Thank you so much everyone for all your support!! You are seriously the best followers and people ever!!! I really hope you enjoy this series, and please let me know what you think!

Previously:

I clean up the bar for the thousand time and look around me. The morning shift will soon be over and I will be free to go anywhere I want for two hours. I really can’t wait. Scott has closed the pool for anyone but our special family, so it’s been the longest and most boring morning of my life. In ten minutes I’ll be free. Most of my coworkers have already started to pack, so I put the cocktail mixer on its place and check all the alcoholic drinks to leave as soon as possible. Soon I’ll be free…

“Y/N…” I raise my head and see Scott on the door.

“Any problem?”

“Kind of yeah… For you.”

“They didn’t like my cocktail?”

“They did. It’s just… Bucky wants you to stay during lunch break and give him a massage.”

Are you kidding me?

Y/N’s POV:

Yeah… in case you haven’t realized yet, there’s no way I’m giving Mr I-think-I-can-have-it-all a massage. My contract didn’t mention me having to give massages to spoiled rich kids. I would have told that to Scott if he wasn’t looking so serious, but I have no problem telling Barnes to fuck off… of breaking a vodka bottle on his face, for that matter.

I busy myself sorting out alcoholic drinks and pretending I don’t see Scott’s disapproving face until, for the second time today, a very unwanted voice forces me out of my task.

“So, where is my massage?” Bucky says, a smug smile on his face I see reflected on the cocktail maker.

I don’t even bother to turn around, I’m not going to put up with him. “Oh! I think I saw it a while ago. It was heading to fuck-you island. Would you like to follow?”

“Yes.” he replies with a dirty tone.

I have to admit I’ve gotten myself into that one. That doesn’t minor my desires of breaking a glass on Barnes’ face any less. I breathe in deeply. “Look, let’s make a deal. I push you to the pool. You pretend to drown. You get Wanda’s attention. You leave me alone. Deal?”

“It’s not Wanda’s attention I’m interested on”

“Why? You’ve already played her?” I reply out of instinct, and turn around to leave the clean cocktail maker on the bar.

He looks at me, actually offended. But I can’t say I care, I’ve meet too many men like him in my short lifetime, and they’ve all run away as soon as I had showed them a little of my scarred skin. I mean, there’s a reason I work with long sleeved shirts in the middle of August.

He leans over the bar “I’ll offer you another deal. You do whatever I want to do with you, you don’t get fired. You know I have the power of making this hotel fire you, right? Or ascend you, with only a few words…”

I’m paralyzed by his comment. One side of my mind is screaming at him that how dares him, I’m going to break a fucking bottle on your stupid face and see if that improves it. But another, the biggest and more reasonable one asks me if I’m really willing to loose a job that has taken me so much hard work to get because of a spoiled rich kid. It orders me to stay frozen in place and let him do whatever he wants.

Barnes’s obnoxious smile appears again while he walks around the bar, entering through the back door. I desperately look around for Scott in one last attempt of escaping, but my manager is nowhere on sight. Barnes closes the bar window with the wood boards so smoothly I wonder how many times he’s done it before, and then turns to face me.

I feel my breath coming out cut, in short gasps, while my heart tries to pierce its way out of my chest. The bar is now dimly lit by a lonely light in the ceiling, and the space is too reduced for my liking. Has it always smelled so bitterly to alcohol in here?

Barnes hasn’t said a word in a few seconds and that has given time for adrenaline to curse its way through my body a few times. All my senses are on edge, taking in too many information all at once. I wish I could just shut down my brain and let this be a black hole in my memory.

Finally, he walks towards me at a slow pace. I can feel every single reaction my body makes, how my pupils contract in fear, how my legs refuse to support my weight, how my hands shake violently. My hands… that’s the first thing he touches, securing them in an iron hold. Then his fingers start to go higher, tracing over my sleeves what maybe are meant to be relaxing patterns, but the sole proximity of his fingers makes my body want to flinch back.

He leans over me, his head on my shoulder. I can’t breathe. He starts to murmur softly to my ear, with his steady and husky tone. “Relax. This is not that bad. Nothing’s going to happen, trust me. Just let go a little, and this will all be over. You'll enjoy it and tomorrow you’ll be working in the management category you always deserved.”

I feel bile on my throat and swallow it back. I also try to hold back tears, I know showing weakness will only encourage him. I’ve been in too many relationships terribly similar to this moment. In other places, in other moments I’ve been exactly here, even though I had promised myself those times were over, I’m back on the same place: a dark room with a man I have to satisfy in order to keep my family afloat. It’s sickening.

I breathe in one last time before his lips find mine and force them open. I try to mentally distance myself from this moment, trying not to feel his warm figure over mine, pushing me back against the counter, forcing me to bend backwards and be more exposed to him. I try not to feel his hands knotting themselves on my hair. I blindly try not to feel his lips and tongue against mines, pushing further, asking for more. Instead, I focus on the painful pressure of the wooden counter digging into my back, on the bruise it will leave, on anything but him.

And suddenly I can breathe again, I can feel cold air stroking my body. And Barnes standing in front if me, smiling wildly at my shaky figure. His eyes are shining with lust, diluted with another emotion I can’t recognize.

And he’s over me again. This time I can’t control my instincts, that try to push him back, but he only responds forcing me against the counter even more, moving more harshly. I know he’s going to start going under my shirt, and probably won’t like what he feels. Maybe that’s better, probably not…

But then it happens. Bright light cuts through the bar and my eyelids, as the offensive pressure leaves my body with a loud bang. I keep my eyes shut close and slide through the ground, not ready for this. A sob escapes my lips as I push myself as hard as I can against the wall.

“Hey, are you OK?” asks a voice, so softly it could be taking to a six year old. I nod and open my eyes, my breath still short and adrenaline still cursing through my system, setting my heart on fire. It fucking hurts.

In front of me stands Steve, with a worried look on his face. I feel my coping mechanism already kicking in as I wonder what has made Prince Charming deign to spare a gaze on my direction. That’s my coping system: a dark, bitter humor that has driven so many good people out of my way in the past, unable to stand my dry sarcasm. I can’t stand it somethings either, but they say laughing is a natural anesthetic, right?

Behind Steve, lying on the floor and very obviously pushed away by his brother, lies Bucky. He stands up, still smiling, and growls something towards his brother in a language I can’t understand. He replies dryly in the same language and then Barnes turns around to look at me one last time.

“Summer is long, doll.” he smiles, and I suddenly decode the emotion that had crossed his eyes earlier. Determination. A shiver runs down my sore back.

Without a gaze back, he leaves the bar and walks to the hotel under his brother’s strict stare. When he finally enterers the building, Steve relaxes and walks towards me.

“Are you all right? He didn’t force you to do anything apart from kissing him, did he?” he asks, examining my body in one quick look while laying a hand on my arm. I instinctively pull away and he raises both hands to prove he is not a threat.

I breathe deeply and try to incorporate, but make a grimace when the wall touches the already forming bruise on my back. Steve reacts instantly “Where are you hurt? What did he do to you?”

I shake my head in a vague answer. I don’t want to show him the bruise, much less go over what just happened.

When he sees I don’t answer, he sits on the floor next to me and fidget with his hands a few seconds before speaking again. “Look, I don’t usually interfere with my brother’s… amusements, but that’s because usually both sides want it. I mean: rich, famous and good looking… Damn, seriously, I think you're the first person to ever reject him! He didn’t know how to react to that.”

My hands start shaking again at his comment, and I can feel fire burning my chest inside out. “Are you trying to excuse him? Steve, he was going to force me to do it with him before you came along!”

He grimaces “I’m just saying what I know. He’s not a bad guy, just a child who got corrupted by the world he lives in.”

I look at a little scar exposed on my right wrist before unconsciously pulling my sleeve down “We all live in the same world.”

“Yes, but we all have different ways to cope with it.” his tone is soft, almost as if he were singing a lullaby. “What I fear is how he may react to this. If he will try to force himself onto you again. I’ll do my best to keep an eye on him.”

“Wow… Thank you…” his kindness shakes me and, tentatively, I lie my head softly on his shoulder. When he doesn’t pull away, I let my body weight onto him and he shifts his balance so that I’m more confortable, making sure he touches me the least possible.

“No problem. He needs to grow for a damn time.”

“Wait, are you on his side or not?”

He laughs and leans a little over my head. “Well, he doesn’t know how to make gin tonics as well as you do, does he?” I laugh softly at his comment. “He’s still my brother, Y/N. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder what happened to that eleven year old that claimed he wanted to be a gentleman when he grew up. And the only conclusion I arrived to is that our world destroyed him. I like to think he’s still in there, somewhere, but I lose hope every day. He’s turning into a monster before my own eyes, and I’m unable to help him. My own brother.” he breathes in deeply. “I’m sorry for… Everything.”

I shake my head, but when I’m about to answer, Maria Hill, the ‘Big Boss’ as everyone calls her, appears on the doorframe.

“Y/N, we need to have a conversation.”

Part 3 - Coming Soon!

Please, let me know what you think!

Millions of thanks @punkfaress  @iamwarrenspeace  @marvel-fanfiction  @chipilerendi   @moosesamdeancasbees  @captain-ros3ann3   @marvelouslyloki and everyone else who is with me on this. I love you!!

[essayofthoughts]

Fic prompt: Avengers Penny Dreadful AU- possible characters to include: Wanda as the medium/possessed woman, haunted by and/or possibly possessed by her dead twin; Bruce as Dr. J/Mr. H, naturally; Steve the lonely immortal, unable to move on from the ones he lost in another life; Tony the tinkerer playing god; Thor as a werewolf (berserker parallels you know); Natasha as femme fatale- possibly vampire; anyone else you can include and draw parallels to victorian/romantic lit and pop culture.

Send me fic prompts!

AO3 Mirror.

For the way I have the roles mapping see the fic on AO3.

i. Justice.My brother was my shield, Wanda thinks, laying out her cards. Her brother isn’t there any more. Sometimes she can convince herself he is there, the ghostly presence at her shoulder, but he isn’t. He was taken. He is gone. She can hope to find him, seek him out, but it may not be her brother there when she finds him.

She shares a bond with Pietro even now. She knows there are others like her, other mediums who are afeared of human contact, who dare not share even friendship with others lest it taint their bond with their gifts. Those who go half mad, taunted by spirits when they give into that need for human contact. 

Wanda has never had this problem before. She has always had Pietro to rely on, to embrace and trust and love.

Now he is not here, now he is not at her side, it is now she feels the pull to madness.

Wanda steels herself. Wanda turns the first card.

ii. Queen of CupsHe wakes and he does not know where he is. He does not know what he is. He barely knows that he is.

Something touches him. He knows this because he feels it and he twitches back.

“Hey.” It is a sound. “Hey.” There is something soothing in it. “Look at me. Do you understand me?”

More sounds. He turns and tries to see. 

“Hey.” The sounds come again. There is something in front of him now, a pattern. When the slit opens the noises are made. “Hey,” it noises. “Lets give you a name.”

iii. Four of PentaclesHe does not know where he is. He does not know what he is. He knows what he needs, though, and it is not the blood offered to him, or the protection from sunlight the others seek. It is something that has been blocked out of his mind, even as he seeks it.

He hungers though. He hungers so much, for blood, for darkness, for his sister something whispers in the recesses of his mind.

He licks his lips, his new-sharp teeth. Maybe her blood would sate him.

iv. Six of Pentacles“You made another? Now?” 

He has a name, now, Vision, and he watches the man that made him and his friend debate before him.

“Of course! Ultron was a mistake, there was no way he could ever be right, the fumbling attempts of an apprentice’s hands. Vision is perfect.”

His maker, he knows now, is Tony Stark, genius young doctor and engineer, the man who built him out of flesh and metal. His friend is Bruce - Doctor Banner - a skilled as Doctor as his friend but more of flesh and the science of the mysteries of air and aether than his maker. 

He curls and uncurls his hand, feels the metal joints roll and curve beneath reddened skin - It will fade, Vision, it’s just to keep it strong at first for the mechanics - he can almost feel the cogs of his heart.

“Sir,” he says softly. “I do not know this Ultron. I do not know why he was a mistake. I also do not know you, and please, do not threaten my father.”

He does not quite understand that slip, that made maker into father but it fits and it works and it makes a smile spread across Doctor Banner’s face even as Tony Stark’s is marked with shock.

Then the doorbell rings.

v. HermitThere are strangers gathered at the door and Natasha watches them all, where she hovers invisible, nothing but a ghost. There is a woman, and a man with a cane that she is certain hides a crossbow, and a man with a hammer and wild hair for all his neat form. Stepping out of the light of the streets and to the light of the door is another - a man she recognises from when she died.

“Hello,” says the man with the crossbow. “I am Mr. Barton. This is my niece, Miss Wanda Maximoff, and my friends, Mr. Thor Odinson and Mr. Steve Rogers. We’d appreciate your help.”

Natasha almost laughs at the looks on Banner and Stark’s faces but then, she supposes, they are physical with physical consequences while she is not.

Wanda Maximoff lifts a gloved hand from her own cane, palm towards the spot where Natasha watches. 

“Uncle,” she says, voice soft and raw with grief. “There is a third here.” Fingers clench in, stretch out. “Reveal yourself,” she says, and Natasha is pulled into the open.

She tastes air on her tongue and realises that she is almost alive.

vi. Page of Swords“We need your help,” he says to those gathered around. There’s a sound from upstairs, and by the ways Doctors’ Stark and Banner’s eyes flick upwards it is something which concerns them. “Since my niece and her brother were orphaned they have stayed with my wife and I. Wanda is, as you may have noticed, gifted. Someone, gifted in their own way, has stolen her brother from us.”

“My twin,” Wanda says. “Pietro.” She and Clint share a glance. The one who anchors her magic. “We would seek your help, your skills. Mr. Rogers is… older than he looks and with some experience in this field. Mr. Odinson too has experience in this field and has extraordinary fighting abilities. What we would seek of you two, Doctors, is your medical knowledge. We wish to know if what was done to my brother can be reversed.”

It is Natasha - new formed, still almost intangible - who speaks. “Reversed from what?”

vii. Page of SwordsWanda’s voice is cool and cold as she speaks of what they believe was done to her brother. His own voice is steady but worried.

“Vampires,” Natasha says. “One is what put me into my current state.”

“Phantasma,” Wanda says. “Leeching life from life.”

“Whatever this one is,” Mr. Rogers says, “It is not yet as powerful as the one I put down.”

Something like recognition flickers across Natasha’s face.

“Undead!” Doctor Stark laughs. “There is no such thing.”

“Tony,” his companion says. “We should-”

Natasha smiles, as vicious as a cat, “Tell them about the boy in the attic?”

viii. HermitShe leads them upstairs. It is odd to be in a body again, but this doesn’t feel quite real, is still somewhat intangible. If she doesn’t focus her hand goes straight through the banister.

“He is in here,” she says. “Doctor Stark’s Vision.”

The door opens to a scene of chaos.

ix. Six of Pentacles“Vision!” calls Tony to where his new creation is struggling against the elder. 

“Tony!” calls Bruce. his skin is rippling, greening, hulking out into the vast form of it.

Behind them the visitors are raising weapons - Rogers and Odinson both have their fists, but Barton has some concealed crossbow in his cane and Miss Maximoff is lifting hands daubed in a red like blood. Natasha is reaching for something hidden behind her back.

Then it ploughs into Ultron. Tony’s elder creation tries to fight back but he is nothing against the other man that hides within Bruce’s skin. Bruce’s strength is in intelligence, but this, this side of him is pure rage and physicality and for all Ultron’s undead might even he struggles against it.

“Vision!” calls Tony and his newest creation pulls himself up, runs in stumbles over to his father.

The thing that had been Bruce snarls and yells, the mechanics in Ultron’s shoulder complain, as they hear cloth tearing. Ultron’s fist lands a perfect blow on its face, and it spits out a broken tooth.

“Remember me?” it asks Ultron.

“Monster,” Ultron snarls.

It laughs, and throws Ultron from the window.

x. Four of PentaclesHe is close he knows it. He can smell her, smell her blood and feel her pulse and the pulses of those around her. But hers is sweetest and loudest and he crawls along the roof as something is thrown from the window.

A person. It’s blood smells dead, it’s heart ticks like a clock.

He climbs down to the window, smells her blood like wine and flowers, and looks in.

xi. Queen of Cups“Father,” Vision says, pointing to the window. It is shrinking back to Bruce, trembling and shaking as his bones warp back down to size. 

“What was that?” Rogers asks.

“What are you?” asks Odinson.

“Father,” Vision says. 

The strangled scream Wanda gives tells them all they need to know.

xii. JusticePietro. It is Pietro but bent and warped and pale, head twisting like an owls as he clambers down from the window. for a moment he had looked decapitated, his head upside-down, hanging like that but she can see now that there is no such hope of peace for her brother, he is walking towards them like some jerking puppet.

He hisses, “Sister,” his eyes fixed on her and Wanda reaches for her magic.

Wanda reaches for her magic and it isn’t there. The bond has weakened without her brother but it has still been there and now, now he is so close to returned to them it has left her entirely.

“Pietro,” she says. “Do you remember me?”

His head tilts in a jerk. “Sister,” he says and she might almost smile and reach for him.

“Give me your blood.”

xiii. Ace of SwordsRogers ploughs into Pietro, tries to pin him to the wall. Hands claw at him, drawing blood like claws but he does not flinch, does not flinch even once. “Natasha!” he calls. “Please!”

She rushes forwards, passing through objects like the ghost she is, passing him something almost tangible, a stake of wood.

Pietro screeches as the wood drives through his wrist and into the brick behind him.

“What is he?!” Stark calls.

“A vampire,” Barton says, levelling his crossbow. “Wanda, you know-”

“Do it,” she says.

The thing that was Pietro screeches again as his other wrist is pinned by a crossbow quarrel.

He strains against them, pushing himself from the wall by his feet and Wanda draws nearer. Scarlet sparks and sputters around her hands but none of the strength it once held, even as she nears her brother. “Pietro,” she whispers. “Please.”

Behind them, Banner pulls himself to his feet. “You said he was given bad blood to turn him, didn’t you,” he says, soft and quiet and audible even over Pietro’s screeches, barely a question. “So we give him clean. Vision?”

The new-made person steps forward from his father’s side. 

“You’re as strong as your brother, aren’t you?”

Tony’s hand is gentle on his creation’s shoulder. “Stronger.”

Bruce nods, looks to Natasha and Rogers, tow with so clear a history of fighting these beasts. “We drain him of tainted blood and give him clean.”

xiv. Ace of SwordsWanda sits by her brother’s side. Vision sat firmly atop him, hands pinning ankles while a fresh stake and quarrel pin his wrists. Blood drips from one wrist into a bucket, pulses down one tube to a wrist.

“We don’t know that this will work,” Rogers says. “This was never attempted when I fought them.”

“Mine tried it,” Natasha says. “It did not always work.”

“It can kill sometimes,” Bruce admits. “Even in humans.”

Wanda looks to them, faint sparks of scarlet in her gaze. “Better this than nothing,” she whispers.

They watch her brother fade away on the table, and hope he will return.