#of continuity in which Wanda and Pietro are meant to be people of color

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

knight!natasha x noble!fem!reader

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected yoru knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 

warnings: actually none but a misunderstanding and the lack of editing that i think u guys may or may not be used to at this point

word count: 5.3k

part two!!

The knight before you was the opposite of a man. She was so opposite in fact, that you had to actively make yourself not appear like you were shocked. You knew that the twins were having to try even harder to keep composure.

She was without a doubt, one of the prettiest people you had ever seen before. Being a lady, you had seen so many handsome young men and gorgeous young women, but there wasn’t one who’s fairness struck you like this woman’s. Her eyes were an unfamiliar shade of blue, and you knew that they were the kind of eyes that were made for surveillance and observation, and if you looked hard enough, maybe a window to her thoughts. She had pink lips that were set into a genuine yet thin smile, almost like she wasn’t used to wordless pleasantries at all. Her hair was cropped just above her shoulders and it shined a brilliant red that you had rarely ever seen. Despite the powerful and extremely potent energy that she was giving off, she was short, shorter than you, but something told you that she was strong. Stronger than anyone knew quite yet, but you could feel it. But, you were still confused, regardless of how she had rendered you breathless for the quickest of seconds.

The problem wasn’t that she was a woman. There wasn’t even really a problem at all. It was just the fact that a woman was a knight. You had never seen anything like it in your entire life, and you had never even thought of the possibility of that happening. At all. You had to fight tooth and nail to keep property that you hardly even wanted, all because you were a woman. Because you weren’t pregnant with a son who could carry his hypothetical father’s name. Because you were a woman without the heir to your late husband’s fortunes, you were seen as nothing, for a long time. And now, there were women who were becoming knights?

You were more impressed than confused.

You felt another pinch from Pietro, this time a little harder. You breathed in through your nose, a welcoming smile on your face as you grappled for words.

“Hello,” you said, public voice still working hard as you internally scrambled for words. You were looking the red headed woman right in her eyes, the eyes that were so intense that if you hadn’t been in rooms where extreme business had gone down, you would have melted. You tried to remember the standard greeting. “Welcome to my keep. I hope that I can accommodate you during your stay, and that you are successful in your search for what it is that you are looking for.” You knew the words were off by a bit, but you saw the coachman nod in approval that you didn’t really care to have.

The knight took a step forward, and the sound of a heavy footstep crashing against your well-kept grass made you shiver. The trampled grass had nothing on the way that you reacted to hearing her voice. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mirellis. I sincerely thank you for allowing me into your home.”

It was hardly your home, and you could tell that the two of you had already gotten off on the wrong foot. You knew it was because of your shameless staring. “May I be graced with knowing your name?”

If possible, she stood up a little straighter. “I am Natasha Romanoff, My Lady.”

If you were hearing correctly, you heard the slight awkwardness in her last two words. Only people with titles of their own called other lords and ladies “my lady”, and lower born people were to call them “milady”. She must have been lowborn, just like you. “It is my deepest pleasure to meet you, Natasha. May I show you around my keep?”

“Typically,” the coachman cut in, and you furrowed your brows at the way he interrupted the stop-and-start flow of the conversation. “It isn’t the lord—sorry—lady of the house’s job to do that.”

Wanda opened her mouth, highly defensive of you and ready to go because it was a fight she could afford to pick. A servant and a coachman were on the same level. She would face no punishment for talking back to the man. However, you reached to your right and squeezed her hand twice.

“Well, I am the lady of the house, and I would like to show my new guest her accommodations.” The man narrowed his eyes slightly at you, and it became obvious to everyone that he clearly wasn’t expecting back talk from you.

You knew that everyone thought widows were these gentle, sad women. The type that cried themselves to sleep and wished to meet their husbands again in the afterlife. The type that listened at anything that a man uttered simply because he was a man, or because they didn’t have the energy to entertain an arguement or to correct them. Especially ladies. But you were not supposed to be a lady. You wore fancy dresses and had gold and had a small castle to yourself, but part of you would always be that girl who beat up the boys who lived a few acres away for talking about your hair and then rolled in mud with them, laughing about it the very next day.

Even through the glances that were thrown between the five of you standing there, you continued. “My staff has worked so hard on making sure it was nice for her. I’d like to show off their diligence now.” It wasn’t a question.

“Do as you please, milady.”

You resisted the urge to nod smugly. “Thank you.” You watched him climb back onto his chair and quirked a brow. The coachman always stayed for dinner. It was considered offensive if they did not, both to the knight and to the lord or lady. “Did you not want to stay for the meal, good sir?”

“I must get back, milady. If that is alright with you.”

You knew you should utter something lengthy that you didn’t mean at all, but the most you could get out after his blatant rudeness was a quick “safe travels.” There was a long stretch of awkward silence as you watched him leave, arms hanging at your sides as the trotting sound of horses carried him away.

“Goodness, was he rude.”

“Pietro.” Wanda hissed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You whirled around to look at the knight— Natasha— and saw that she was already looking at you with blatant curiosity.

“Would it be alright with you if I took you around myself?” You asked, and she nodded her head. “Well, I’m sure you’re hungry. Would you like to eat first?”

You were beginning to realize very quickly that the woman was the staring type. Her eyes, no, her entire face and persona was so demanding and intense. It was hard to even be provoked by her shameless staring and possible judgement, because at least she was open with it. The more you looked at her, though, the more you knew that you would never understand what was happening behind her eyes. “I would like to see.”

“Then you will see,” you stated, and gave Wanda a look. She knew immediately what it meant, and she walked off to tell the chefs to expect you in an hour or so. “We can start with the outside area and make our way in.”

She was very much the staring type. Not even just at faces or people in general, but with everything. You noticed that when anything caught her eye, she looked at it for a few seconds in silence and then moved on, like she heard them speak something unknown to everyone else and took the time to listen.

“These are the training grounds,” you said after walking to the back half of the castle, where the grass was still trained to grow with strength and hardly a thing was out of place. The training grounds were for young squires in the area or kids that just wanted to play fight. You had made the area yourself, and it was one of your favorite parts of your home. You liked being able to look outside and see children playing freely, and the sound of laughter was something that everyone needed in life. “You’re free to use them in any way you see fit, of course.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“You’ll run into aspiring knights here and there, but they are good children.” Your voice was fond as you spoke of them, and then took a right. “And just down here, we have the gardens.”

And gardens, they were. They were the only thing in the castle that was actually yours while your husband was alive. When you had arrived, the patch of land was so disgraced that it would have been insulting to call it a garden. The flowers were droopy, the soil was dry, and the vibrant colors that were once there had been sucked away. Your husband didn’t care about the area, and neither did anyone else, so you adopted it. You had built it from the ground up and made it into what it was; a huge and gorgeous garden full of colors, with ivy hanging from rails in what looked like an unruly manner and bushes full of roses and begonias and everything in between. It was caged off by golden rails, but the rails were hardly binding. They were so wrapped with leaves that it looked like they grew with the garden.

“This is my favorite part of the keep,” you stated softly, walking down it. You had expanded it so that it went down and into the forest, the rails forming a path. You walked down it every so often yourself, deep into the woods where no one would bother you, where you could look at the stars above in peace.

“Is it yours?”

“What?” You asked, tearing your eyes from a particular bush to see her looking up at the ivy.

“This garden,” she said, and you realized that you were strolling closer and closer to the woods. You stopped walking, but didn’t make any move to go and meet her. “Do you tend to it?”

“It’s mine,” you answered, not even bothering to take the subtle pride out of your voice. “It’s my project. I started it when I got here, and now it’s flourishing.”

“Where did you learn how to garden?”

It was no secret that typically, ladies did not get their hands dirty, even if the activity was simple planting. They were supposed to stay inside and knit or something like that. Ladies could go outside to look at gardens, but they had staff to plant for them. So, did Natasha not know that you weren’t born with a title? “When I was a girl,” you answered vaguely.

“Your Lord Father allowed you?”

My father was no lord. “Yours allowed you to wield a sword?” The sound of armor clanking brought you out of your slight hostility, and you sighed. “I apologize.”

“It’s quite alright.” The harshness in her voice told you that she was offended by what you said, and she turned around once she realized that the two of you were nearing the tree line.

You walked around with Natasha, giving her the rest of the tour halfheartedly and only speaking when absolutely necessary. It was clear that the two of you clearly weren’t clicking as well as you hoped to, and while that was tragic, you weren’t going to kiss anyone’s feet to get in their good graces.

“I’m sure you’re hungry by now.” The second you stepped on the wood floors of the inside of your keep, the warmth hit you. Your shoes clicked on the material as you walked ahead of her, not looking back or waiting for an answer. “I’ll show you the kitchens, and then the dining hall.”

The dining hall was known for its size. It was huge, and the ceiling was high. Everything that was said echoed, and the lighting provided by strategically placed candles made the hall have an elegant, almost eerie feeling to it. The staff was already bustling around, plating food and pouring wine. Wanda and Pietro were already there, their harsh and bickering whispers hitting your ears until they heard you approaching.

“Oh, please, sit.” Wanda did so immediately, and Pietro walked around the table to pull out your chair, which sat at the head of it.

You cringed when Pietro sat down. He had been dethroned from his seat at your left hand, because it was courteous of you to give up that seat for your new night. That was one tradition that you wouldn’t break, simply because it would be seen as disrespectful. “You can sit right there, Lady Natasha.” You saw her lip twitch.

In all honesty, you had no idea what to call her formally. You two certainly weren’t close enough to address each other by first name, and you doubted she even knew it. But she wasn’t a man, and male knights were called “Sir”. She wasn’t a “Sir”. You didn’t want to offend her further by calling her it.

The first half of the dinner was in awkward silence. Wanda kept giving you glances, and you frowned at the way she was looking at you- like you had clearly messed something up. You sighed through your nose when you heard Pietro clear his throat, a sound that meant that he was about to run his mouth.

“So, my lady knight, what do you think of the castle?”

The red head didn't even realize she was being addressed until she looked up and saw you and everyone else looking at her expectantly. “It’s very nice.” You waited a bit, listening to hear whatever empty compliments that she would give for the sake of being polite. Ten seconds passed, and there was nothing.

You chuckled. “Thank you,” you answered just as shortly, holding back the urge to laugh much louder than was appropriate.

“So, where are you from?”

“The slums.” You nod in acknowledgment, and guilt. Sometimes you repressed the images of people living from coin to coin. But silly you, silly everyone. For there to have been people on the top, there had to be people at the bottom. And those who lived at the bottom lived in what were called “the slums”. “I don’t know if you would know anything about that, My Lady.”

Wanda made a noise that told you that the bold knight’s words were clearly meant to wound you, and Pietro’s brows shot upwards so quickly that you barely saw the movement happen. You stared at your plate, jaw dropped open in surprise and mortification.

You were fuming on the inside. How the hell would she know who you were? What you dealt with? How your husband was as cruel as he was disgusting? How you grew up a poor farmer’s daughter? She didn’t know, and that was what kept you grounded. How could she have known?

Before you could get in your right mind to utter a threat that you were sure that your late husband had said in your presence at least once, you nodded your head and took it in stride. You stood up from the table and didn’t look at her or the confused look she shot you after looking at your painfully unfinished plate.

“Wanda will show you to your chambers, Lady Natasha. I hope you enjoy your first dinner of many here at my castle, and I hope that tonight begins your yearlong journey to wisdom.” And with that, you turned on your heels after taking your plate shamelessly, heels clacking against the polished floor once again, silence filling the hall until long after you left.

§§

By the third day Natasha was there and the second that you had been blatantly avoiding her, you were starting to feel bad for fueling the fire between you two. She was to stay under your roof and do what she had to for a full year, and you antagonized her. You gave the sacred act of showing a knight to their room to someone else, and you understood Natasha’s lack of speech towards you to be a consequence of that.

But that was fine. You certainly didn’t need for the girl to like you. It would have made things much easier and smoother, but it wasn’t a necessity. Your job was to give her food, water, shelter, and time to find herself and her purpose as a knight. Nothing said that the two of you had to be as thick as thieves.

But that also didn’t mean that you would actively pass on befriending her. You decided after a long time of sitting at the polished wooden desk that had become yours that you would be her friend should fate allow it, and if not, there was no harm to it. But you weren’t going to chase her, no matter how wonderfully her bright hair would work as an object to follow.

A soft calling of your name happened seconds before Wanda opened the door. You greeted her informally and grinned at her, until you saw the look on her face and the sealed paper in her hand. Immediately, your joyful expression left and you sighed.

“Who is it this time?” Wanda shut the door behind her after your question, and you gave her a look. “It can’t be Lord Rumlow again.”

Brock Rumlow was not a good man. No man who had power was a good man, but he was one of the worst. He had gone through two wives in the past three years, and the second one was found with stab wounds in the forest. How he had gotten out of being tried for her murder was beyond you, and it made you sick to your stomach every time you thought about it. Now, he set his sights on you, a widow sitting on plenty of money and land. He had been sending you letters, flowers, gold, dresses, anything that a narcissistic man would think that another human being would like simply because the things were tangible. And the letters always said the same old thing; to marry him. And he wasn’t ever really asking.

“It’s him,” Wanda confirmed, her tone telling you that she felt the same way you did towards the vile man.

“I want to burn it,” you said, and immediately, Wanda crossed the room to put the note in the fire, waiting for your final say. “Let me read what this imbecile has asked for now. I wonder what beautiful horse or jewel he’ll offer for my hand, this time.”

You took the letter from Wanda gently and gave her a small smile, and she urged you to open it, just as nervous to see what was inside as you were. You stared at his seal for a few seconds, eyeing the red wax with a three headed serpent engraved with disdain before tearing it right open. You did the rest without ceremony, your eyes narrowed as you found the messy and unbothered handwriting that you would recognize from anywhere.

Lady of Riverstone,

I take it that my other letters may have been lost to the wind. I apologize for not reaching you earlier. But, if you have been getting my letters, then my main offer stands the same. I would be honored for you to take my name and stand under my veil, and for you to become my wife. Marriage to me would give you a great deal of benefits, and I have listed them down below. I would like an answer within two fortnights, and if I don’t get one, I’ll send another letter.

It was all more of the same, more of the same offers and then a little more, vague threats, and monotonous language that he hardly knew how to use correctly. You read with a neutral expression, even though Wanda was shocked reading all of the things he was offering. He signed it off like he did every other letter.

Lord Rumlow, of Serpent’s Keep.

“He offered you two tons of gold to send your father?”

“Do you notice how he’s never called me Lady Mirellis?” You asked, sipping the chalice of water that constantly sat at your desk, and got refilled whenever someone walked by and saw it nearing empty. “Or by my name?”

“I have.”

“It’s always ‘Lady of Riverstone’,” you sighed, shaking your head. “If he wants the land, he should just go on and say that. It’s much more respectable for him to be honest with me. Maybe I would have said yes already.”

Wanda made a face. “You’re lying, now.”

“Well, of course I am. I've never seen him, and all he wants is a woman to beat around. I’m not that woman, no woman is. Do you think I want to find myself dead within a half year of being wed?” There was a sharp knock on your door.

“He wouldn’t kill you. He wouldn’t gain these assets after your death,” Wanda said softly, understanding that you were about to finish the conversation. “He must be truly desperate to pay ou two tons of gold. That could help nearly anyone out of a pickle, and it would certainly pay off some things back at the farm.”

You knew that. But the truth was… you held a certain amount of irrational and rational disdain for your family. You knew that some of it was warranted just off of the way humans worked in general, but others weren’t. You knew for a fact that a part of you would always be bitter about the way that no one fought hard enough for you not to be taken from your home. You knew that a part of you would be bitter because they took the money that your late husband had offered them, like you were the fattest, most desirable pig in the pen. And there would forever, and ever, be a part of you—if not all of you— that would be angry about your wedding night.

Half of your family showed. The other half came, took you to a back room, and cried. They cried on your night of terror, and you comforted them. It was the one time where you truly needed your mother and her maternal instincts, the one time you needed your brother to teach you some moves that could hurt a man if you needed them. And they either weren’t where you needed them, or weren’t what you needed them. Both truths hurt the same.

“My family doesn’t need money,” you settled on saying, swallowing the burning that came with thinking about the people you shared blood with. “If they needed it, they would ask.”

“Your father is a proud man, he wouldn’t set that pride aside. Especially not to ask one of his own daughters for money.”

“Well, let that be their problem,” you said, although your harsh words weren’t as impactful because of the tremor in them. “I won’t marry Lord Rumlow.”

Wanda leaned forward a bit, and she took both of your hands in hers as the knocking grew louder. She looked you in the eyes, just the way one true friend looked at another. With the same ferocity in her voice as the time when she assured you that no one was going to force you to give up your rights to ladyship, her next words were no louder than a whisper. “And no one will make you.”

Your eyes almost grew watery as you held her hands, feeling the purity of the bond you shared with her surging. “Thank you.” You looked towards the door and let her hands go, uttering a soft command.

Pietro stood there with his arms crossed and a flushed look on his face. He cocked his head to the side at the sight of you and Wanda hovering over a broken open letter, and took a few steps forward. It was upside down, so you turned it his way so that he could read it easier, and the second he recognized the handwriting, he groaned.

“I think I can assume what this is,” he rolled his eyes, and he picked it up and walked over to the fire. When you’d said nothing, he tossed it in and the three of you watched it burn. “I came to tell you that our little knight is strange.”

“How so?”

“Well, she's writing.”

You furrowed your brows. “Writing?” You repeated, remembering her saying that she grew up poor. Most commoners had no idea how to read or write. You only learned because you had to learn when you married a lord. And even if knights had the ability to read and write, they hardly did. Words had very little value to a man who could wield a sword.

But Natasha Romanoff was no man.

“What on earth would she be writing about?” Wanda asked, leaning against the desk. “I wonder if she’s required to write a review on her treatment.”

Pietro gave a short but genuine laugh. “She’s probably writing down terrible things about you to give to the king after she returns home,” he joked, and Wanda cracked a smile, but you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.

“I couldn’t care less about a review of my hospitality or lack therefore of,” you drawled.

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Yes, you do, because you’re a kind person.”

“But she is not.” You felt bad for saying the words that you said not even seconds after.

“We don’t know that,” Wanda reasoned softly. “Actually, I happen to know that she’s quite nice. And she’s level headed and very smart, from what I can see. She’s no man with a little praise under his belt, that’s for sure.”

“So, she’s not boastful.” You said. “That’s good. But I don’t see her and I sharing more interactions than what we need to.”

“With all due respect, Lady Y/N,” Pietro said, leaning forward with that characteristic smirk of his plastered over his face. “You are very dramatic. You always have been.”

You could hardly even pretend to be offended. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Wanda said quietly, though not fearfully at all. “You are always dramatic, and then things work out.”

Wanda was right. She very much was, actually. Things like the river nearly drying up and crops rotting too quickly and other things that were completely out of your hands terrified you. The things that you couldn’t control made you irrational and erratic, and that was probably your worst fault. You did the same with things you could change, only with worrying. Something as simple as an apology could fix something, but you would sit on giving the apology for hours, sometimes even days.

That night, when it seemed like everyone else was fast asleep and dreaming sweet little images, you put on slippers and walked right outsides, your guards not even asking you where you were going. You walked right out of the side doors and into the garden, humming quietly to yourself as you walked through the entrance of it with your pails of water.

It was quiet besides the noise of bugs chirping, and the occasional flap of wings from birds above. Even your humming had tapered off, and it felt like you could have been able to hear things from miles away. You smiled in the crisp air as you bent over to water a rose bush, a soft affirmation towards the red flowers when you saw how pretty they looked in the moonlight. When you stood back up and turned your head around, you gasped in fright and tumbled towards the ground.

“Shit,” a hand caught your arm and the other was on your shoulder as your chest heaved, adrenaline rushing from being so frightened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me.” It took you a second to see the face of the woman speaking in the moonlight, but when you saw it was the knight, you sighed.

You were set back on two feet, and then Natasha took a step backwards. “Why are you out here?”

She shrugged. “It’s pretty.” There was a stretch of silence as you waited for her to say something, anything else. “It’s safe.”

A part of you was angered by that statement. Yes, the gardens were safe. Of course they were, they were your safety! They were your place that you went to when you felt like nothing was in your control, like your own decisions weren’t yours. Nothing could hurt you in the gardens, and plants couldn’t talk. They held every secret that you could ever tell, they held every tear that you never shed in front of another, and they saw every emotion that you were too stoic to show in front of others. They were the one place that you could get peace. And now the knight has ruined it.

But on the other hand, you were proud of yourself for creating something that someone else can admire. You created something that someone else could be free in, and in a way, that was amazing. And that hand was outweighing the other.

So, you said, “I’m glad it feels that way.” You cleared your throat softly when you realized that you were speaking to her the way you spoke to the twins. “I created it as my own safe space, so I’m glad someone else thinks of it that way, too.”

There was a short yet heavy silence between you and Natasha, and then you saw her turn to face you, her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. “I know you’re not very excited to have me here, but I’m here. So we can at least try to be cordial.”

“Is that not what we’re being?” You asked, not even taking your eyes off of the moon. “I thought we were even being a little friendly.”

“It would be nice if it lasted.” Natasha muttered, and you nodded your head.

“I don’t know if I offended you with the question about whether or not your father approved your knighthood,” you said, sighing. “I assume that I did. And if you carry around that offense, then I apologize. I don’t like talking about my own father, but you couldn’t have known that.”

“You do not need to be forgiven,” she states. “I apologize, as well.”

“And it’s not that I don’t want you here,” you started, already cursing yourself for going into what she had said not even a full minute earlier. You were tense as she waited for you to continue, but you just shrugged and sighed. “Just know that that’s not it.” Something reached toward you out of the corner of your eye, and you finally turned your head to look at her.

She was… she was nothing short of gorgeous. You were taller than her, so you looked down at her just a little bit. Her red hair looked more brown than anything, and her blue eyes were pale and still as beautiful as they were during the day. There was the smallest hint of a smile on her face, nervous almost, as you looked down at the arm that was reached out your way. The moon was shedding you both its white light, and it primarily rested right where her arm was extended, her palm lord and turned to the side.

She wanted to shake hands with you. Shaking hands was seen as archaic, and knights certainly didn’t touch ladies unless they were assisting them. But, you knew by now that Natasha was not the typical knight. One of her fingers twitched, and you realized that she was just waiting there, her hand hanging in the air, like a gavel ready to drop at any moment. And quickly, almost enough to make the other woman startle, you took her right hand in your own and shook it twice, keeping your eyes right on hers.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

                                                       ******

hiiii guys! still establishing things here with this chapter, but when things kick off, they are going full speed. i already love this fic, and i can’t wait to put all my ideas down for it as the finished product! i hope you guys liked it, and if you did, please show her some love! i have a little taglist building up, so here it goes!

@normanijauregui​ @fayhar​ @8plasma​ @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ 

@slut-for-nat​ @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool​

@200605chaeng​ @thescottishavenger @antidaytime​ @jenny-song​ @madamevirgo​ @natasha-danvers​ @drdarcy-lewis​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ 

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 1

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1963

Warnings:  Sex talk and pregnancy talk on this chapter, smut, angst, pregnancy, mentions of childhood abuse on series.

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Author’s Note: @fanficwriter013 helped me build this world and helped write the first few chapters.  I am forever grateful to her.  I love this series and can’t quite seem to let it go.

Chapter 1: Big Plans

It’s strange how a month can feel like both a blink of an eye and an eternity all at once.  We returned to Earth and everything got busy all at once.  There was work to catch up on.  Avengers stuff had piled up.  Plus, Steve wanted me to train in case they did need me for end-of-the-world things.  There were all the things related to the move back to the Tower.  Plus, Tony and I went into wedding planning mode.  We wanted to just get it over with quickly but we didn’t just want to head to the county courthouse either.  And in the meantime, we all just missed Thor.  Knowing he was going to be back for good just made us miss him even more and even with the days feeling too short to fit everything in, the countdown seemed to drag on.

It was good being busy but I was starting to feel the stress.  I don’t think Steve was really loving the idea of training me, and I wanted to tell him not to worry about it.  That I didn’t want that life.  That didn’t seem fair though.  I could lift Mjolnir.  That meant something.  I couldn’t just selfishly sit at home while my family risked their lives.  The wedding plans weren’t exactly easy either.  We wanted to do it as soon as Thor got back which meant doing everything in two months and just finding a venue alone was hard.  Everything was booked and with the need for privacy on top, the ones that weren’t were not ideal.  The tower was taking a little longer than expected.  I think the stress was getting to me so much I was overthinking everything.  Like we’d had too good of a run and now it was going to fall apart. With my new powers, I now had threads that only I could see that connected me to members of my family and told me where they were and if they were okay.  I would check them constantly worried that something bad was going to happen.  The threads that connected me to Natasha and Wanda seemed to be fraying at the connection to them, and even though when I touched them they seemed content, I kept thinking they were planning to leave us.

“I don’t know, Tony.  I like the idea of a private island but every time I call them they’re booked up,” I complained as I sat in his lap and we looked over wedding destinations.

“You’ve been name dropping right?  That normally does the trick,” Tony teased as his finger slowly caressed over my stomach.

“Yes,” I admitted.  “And I hate it, but still, this is people’s weddings.  Even offering to pay to relocate them isn’t working.  I swear we could buy an island and we’d have more luck.”

“Alright, so we buy an island,” Tony said.  “Richard Branson owns ones.  I guess I can too.  And we can go there for our anniversary.”

I laughed and shook my head.  “Simple, low key wedding it is,” I said as I brought up a website devoted to the buying and selling of islands.  There was a surprisingly large number of them and we narrowed it down to an island in the Caribbean with a fully functional hotel, one in the Maldives that seemed close to not being an island anymore but did have a small hotel comprising of bungalows and an island in Belize that had a small compound like structure that would require us hiring staff to run and flying in all the things we needed for our wedding.

“So, I’m going to send these to Nat and Wanda and let them decide,” Tony said and swiped them into little folders with Natasha and Wanda’s name on it.  “Don’t you worry though, honey.  Our wedding will be small, low key and just us.  Then we’ll spend two weeks on the beach while the kids stay with Sam’s sister.  And when we get back, the Tower will be ready to move into.”

I hummed and leaned my head back on his shoulder.  “It’s going to be so nice.”

He slowly kissed his way along my shoulder to my neck as his hand continued to caress my stomach.  “So I’ve been thinking…”

“You’re always doing that,” I teased playfully, turning my head and nosing at his cheek.

“Well, yes,” he said, a little nervously.  “No.  Sorta…”

I sat more upright and turned to look at him.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said.  “I just… We’ve been happy, haven’t we?  All of us.  Since the kids were born.  I really like being a dad.”

I smiled softly and caressed his jaw with my thumb.  “Yeah.  Really happy.  I can feel it now too.”

“I want us to have more,” he said.  “Kids that is.  I kinda… I want to make one with you.”

I stared at him in disbelief, though I could feel through the thread how much he wanted this and how nervous he was I was going to say no.  “Really?  You’re sure?”

“You make really pretty babies,” he said.

I smiled and leaned my forehead against his, tears pricking my eyes.  “I’d be so happy.”

“Is that a yes?”  He asked.  “We can make a little Stark/Cooper baby?”

I let out a breath.  I wanted this so much.  I’d had dreams about getting pregnant again.  This time because everyone wanted it.  And this time around everyone being excited from the start and having the support I didn’t get the last time.  Seeing our family grow more.  But I couldn’t agree until I knew I’d get it.  I couldn’t go through what I did last time.  “We need to talk to the others.  That means Thor too.  I need for them to agree to having more kids and that they’re okay with both knowing you’re the biological father or if we just have me go off birth control and whatever happens happens.”

Tony nodded and rubbed my back  “Okay.  It’s okay,” he said.  “It’ll be different this time.  We’re all here now, El.  And if they just want the paternity to be random.  I’d be okay with that too.  I just… I really love being a dad.”

I nuzzled into his neck, one tear breaking free and running down my cheek.  “I love you,” I whispered.  “And I do want this.  More than anything.”

“I know,” he said, holding me close.  “I love you too.”

He held me like that for a little while, just gently rubbing my back, when a large crack of thunder sounded outside and it started bucketing down rain.  I sat up suddenly and looked out of the window.  “Is it Thor do you think?”

“Gotta be,” Tony said, patting my ass so I’d get up.

I jumped to my feet and the two of us rushed outside.  The rain was coming down heavily and Bruce was outside with the kids and the puppies, looking up at the sky.  I moved up beside him, still being sheltered by the awning of the house.  “Is it him?”

Bruce smiled and looked down at me.  He was in his blended form.  The one he took most of the time these days.  He’d lean into Bruce more in the bedroom or the lab, or Hulk when he was playing outside with Clint and the kids.  But mostly he was both at once, working in harmony.  “The atmospheric readings are consistent with the Rosenberg Bridge opening.”

To back up Bruce’s words, a huge crash sounded again and a large beam of rainbow-colored light seemed to crash into the ground.  When it cleared Thor was standing in the middle of a circle of Celtic knotwork burned into the ground.  The twins squealed in delight and ran out into the rain to greet him.  Thor smiled and the rain stopped like he’d flicked a switch on it.  He scooped them up when they reached him and held them above his head.

“Children!”  He boomed.

“Daddy!”  They both squealed at once, kicking their legs.  He pulled them into a hug and closed his eyes, smiling contentedly as they nuzzled into him.  Tony, Bruce, and I approached him and when we got close he put both onto one arm and cradled my jaw with the other.

“Mea Vida,” he hummed and kissed me deeply.  I melted into him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Thor!  We didn’t expect you back yet!” Bruce said, smiling.

Thor broke his kiss with me and Bruce leaned down and pecked Thor’s cheek before Tony moved in and did the same.  “All is running well on Asgard.  I have Heimdall watching over things.  He will call me if needed.”

“So this is it?��� I asked, looking up at him. “You’re home now?”

He smiled contentedly.  “Yes.  I’m home.”

“Come on,” Tony said, clapping him on the shoulder.  “Let’s get you inside.  We have a lot to tell you about.  In fact, your timing is perfect.  He looked at me with a small smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.  It did feel like a sign.  This was the day we would agree to extend our family.

“I misted you,” Pietro said as we made our way back inside with the dogs, dancing around at our feet.

“I missed you too, my darling one,” Thor said, affectionately.  “What have you been doing since I saw you last?”

“Umm…” Pietro pondered.

“We pwayed and deys take us pwaces.  We did see a schoowl,” Riley explained.

“And I dot my books,” Pietro added.

“Those all sound wonderful,” Thor rumbled and kissed them both on the head, before putting them down.  He took a seat on the couch and both the twins and the dogs climbed up into his lap.

“FRIDAY, tell the cook to make a large lunch for everyone and that Thor’s here so whatever they think is normal, double it,” Tony said as he took a seat.  “And page the others.”

“Of course,” FRIDAY replied.

“Daddy,” Pietro said as he climbed up onto Thor’s shoulders.  “Wiwl Woki come?”

“On occasion, little one,” Thor answered.  “Loki has a very important responsibility in Asgard now.”

“Wiwl Mags come?”  Riley added.

Thor laughed and ruffled her hair.  “No, honey.  I’m afraid not.  But I will take you back to your homeworld from time-to-time and you will see him.”

I started to get impatient and I ran my fingers through the threads that connected me to the others and tugged on the ones that belonged to Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda.

“Did you just pull me?”  Clint said, coming into the room.

“I did,” I answered.  “Thor’s home!”

Clint grinned and came over, kissing Thor, before flopping on the chair beside him.

“Space husband!”  Steve called as he entered the room with Bucky.

“I’m not your space husband any longer.  I’m home for good,” Thor said, getting up and greeting the two super-soldiers with a tight hug and a kiss.

“You are!”  Wanda squeaked as she entered with Sam.

Thor turned to Sam and Wanda and a large smile broke out on his face as he pulled them into his arms.  “You have been busy while I was away,” he said.  Wanda looked up at him confused when Natasha finally arrived.  “Very busy indeed.”

“What do you mean?”  Wanda asked.

“You and Natasha, you’re both with child,” Thor said, looking at the both of them confused.   “You didn’t know?”

I looked from Wanda to Nat and the sudden realization that the fraying of the threads was the starting of new ones connected me to the babies they were carrying.  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it sooner.

Natasha looked at Thor with her jaw dropped.  “I’m sorry, but I’m what?”

// NEXT

[marvels-writings]

When the World is Against Us (12)

Dreams of the Future

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch) Masterlist

Series Masterlist

| Preview | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | 

A/N: I’d planned a song fic to be released today but this took up more time than expected and my wrist is being a bitch again so i hope you like this!

“Y/n, wake her up,” Your mom gestured to your girlfriend on top of you.

“We’re landing soon,”

“Can I ask where?” You asked in a hushed tone as not to wake up your girlfriend.

“Scotland, we’re going to be there for a few weeks,” Steve answered, his voice louder than your moms.

Wanda stirred, mumbling an incoherent sentence, and shifted above you. You glared at Steve, which only caused both of them to chuckle and return to the front of the jet. Wincing, you hated waking Wanda up. She looked peaceful when she slept. 

You hated disturbing her from that.

“Hey,” you whispered, gently shaking her under the blanket. The Sokovian murmured something, tucking her head into your neck, her breath hitting your neck, making you shiver. But she still wasn’t awake.

“Come on, please?” You whispered, rubbing her back to draw her out of sleep. 

Wanda seemed to stir at that, taking a deep breath and realizing where she was. She almost flinched away, scared you were going to hurt her. But when she felt your scent went through her nose, your arms around her. She relaxed into you.

“Five more minutes?” Wanda mumbled, unwilling to leave you.

You smiled. The sentence was so familiar it felt like home again. Memories flashed through your head, every time you slept in the same bed as Wanda, she pleaded for more time with you. You never had the heart to deny her, especially now.

“Okay,” You kissed the top of her head, wrapping your arms around her protectively.

Moments like these were the ones that kept you going, kept you from giving up. You never wanted to stop making more moments like these.

After a few more minutes, Wanda’s eyes finally fluttered open as she lifted herself off of you, her warmth leaving you. Moving so she was straddling you, she rubbed her eyes and looked down at you. You wore an affectionate grin on your face, your eyes soft. It made Wanda want to go back to sleep with you.

“Look who’s awake,” You teased.

Tilting your head to the side, you leaned forwards and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. The redhead yawned, tempted to go back to sleep. Light shown through the front of the jet, Wanda turned to see the sky and the ground.

The jet was landing.

After another yawn, Wanda removed herself from you and sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes. You got up, sitting down next to her, your thigh was brushing hers. Tired, the redhead leaned her head on your shoulder.

“Sleep well?” You asked, putting your arm across her shoulders and resting your head on top of hers.

Wanda hummed, sliding one arm across your waist. Without speaking, you looked towards your mom to ask how much time you had left. Natasha lifted four fingers, telling you how much time you had to get ready.

“Do you wanna get changed?” You asked, gesturing to the small suitcase of clothes you’d brought with you.

The redhead nodded against your shoulder. You got up and pulled the suitcase over, letting Wanda choose what she wanted to wear. She went near the secluded area of the jet to change. You turned around to give her privacy.

Arms wrapped around your waist within minutes, soft breath hit your neck as red hair splayed on your shoulders. You let out a hum, letting yourself treasure the moment. Wanda’s front pushed into your back as she swayed from side to side. Smiling, you leaned back into her touch, intertwining your fingers with hers.

The cold metal of her rings was absent, frowning, you lifted her hands to find them free of rings. Natasha had put all of Wanda’s spare jewelry in another suitcase. Patting her hand to signal for her to let you go, you went over to the suitcase and took out the small bag of her jewelry and handed it to her.

“Thank you, moya Lyubov,” Wanda said, accepting the bag and sitting down to put on the jewelry.

The nickname seemed oddly familiar, but you know Wanda hadn’t said it often. You went to the front of the jet to ask your mom about it. Sam had landed the jet and was initiating the cloaking device so no one would see the jet. Vision and Steve were talking about the past few days and the politics concerned with it.

“Hey, mom?” You asked, she hummed, turning to face you.

“What does moya Lyubov mean?”

Natasha almost snorted, it was a nickname she called you a few years after adopting you. But the nickname eventually wore off. She hadn’t heard it in years. Confident it had been Wanda to call you that, she explained what it meant.

“It means ‘my love’ in Russian,” Natasha explained, a wide grin on her face.

Your eyes widened, you gulped nervously and turned towards your girlfriend who was selecting rings to put on her fingers. Your mom laughed, patting your shoulder and helping Sam activate the cloaking. Licking your lips, you went to sit next to Wanda.

The witch dropped a ring into your palm to fidget with when she noticed how you were playing with your fingers. Chuckling at the action, you played with the small ring on your fingers. It was an intricately woven silver band embedded with small rubies.

“You can go sightseeing if you want,” Steve said, walking towards both of you with Natasha.

“But stay away from cameras,” Natasha warned.

You nodded and got up excitedly, moving towards your suitcase to grab a jacket. Natasha followed you, giving you a spare phone and places you could go for sightseeing. The usual warnings followed by a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

Turning around, you saw Wanda waiting for you with a sheepish smile on her face. Excitedly, you took her hand and led her out of the jet, using the spare phone to get directions to the nearest tourist sight.

————

The rest of the day was amazing. You’d led Wanda to all of the famous sights in Scotland. Your favorite had been Edinburgh Castle, everything about it was entrancing. Wanda’s favorite was the Glasgow Cathedral. The redhead said it reminded her of her home in Sokovia, so you stayed around it more than you needed to.

Thankfully, your mom had given you enough money to buy lunches for both of you. After another few hours, you sat by the riverside, watching the sunset with your girlfriend. Her head rested on your shoulder, one hand intertwined with yours.

Neither of you spoke, there was nothing either of you needed to talk about. The silence was comfortable and perfect.

You kissed the side of her head, sighing and continuing to watch the sunset. Wanda sensed your restlessness and chuckled.

“Just a few more minutes?” Wanda pleaded, you hummed and kissed her head again.

Diverting your attention from the sunset, you began to play with the countless different rings on Wanda’s fingers. You never understood why she wore so many rings. All you knew was that all of them had a different meaning to her.

One time, you’d asked her what they meant, she explained a few, but when she got to the rings that Pietro had given her, she started crying. Not wanting to upset her again, you decided not to ask.

But there was something different.

Instead of the usual black, silver, and red rings, there was a different ring. One of them was silver with a fav/color gemstone in the center.

“It’s for you,” Wanda murmured when she noticed you fixating on the different ring.

You smiled, lifting her hand to kiss the ring and resting it back in your lap. The action was small, almost insignificant. But to you, it meant the world.

Vaguely, you remembered her explaining the rings on her fingers were for people she loves. There were a few for her parents, a few for Pietro. A couple even represented her life as an Avenger. But this was the first time she had a ring for you. 

It meant the world to you.

The rays of the drowning sun eventually faded into black. You made your way back to the jet. Your mom and Steve were waiting for you. None of them were surprised you spent the entire day sightseeing, but they had expected you back sooner.

“Sunset watching?” Natasha asked, knowing you too well. You laughed and nodded, sitting down on the side of the jet with Wanda.

Steve called both of you over and said he found a few apartments away from the city to stay in for a few months. The rest of the team was going to stay there. They had given you and Wanda your shared room since they could only get five rooms there. Everyone else had their own room.

After taking taxis to the apartments, Sam ordered pizza. You ate dinner in your new room, surrounded by what remained of your family. It was better than the past few days, but you missed Tony and Rhodey’s sarcastic comments, Clint’s jokes and stories about his family.

You missed them. So much.

It hurt to know you couldn’t go back.

Sam tried to lighten the mood with bad jokes. It worked for a while. But eventually, you got bored and switched on the TV.

The first thing it played was the news, which Natasha quickly changed to a movie channel. Harry Potter was playing. You watched Order of the Phoenix. By the time the next movie started, everyone was exhausted. They retired to their respective rooms after wishing you and Wanda goodnight.

“I’m beat,” You stated, flopping down on the queen-sized bed. Wanda laughed, switched off the TV, and joined you the bed.

The witch lay facing you on her side, curling into herself, her feet touching yours. You turned around, resting your hand on her waist, staring into her blue-green eyes. Letting yourself get lost in her eyes for a few seconds before pulling up the blanket.

Exhausted and tired, you still couldn’t sleep.

Too many thoughts running loose inside your head.

Too many possibilities of what could go wrong.

A hand rested on your neck, thumb stroking your cheekbone to draw you out of your thoughts. Wanda looked at you in concern. Your face was twisted with pain and hurt. You sighed, leaning into her touch.

Wanda didn’t push you to talk. It gave you time to collect your thoughts. You hadn’t wanted things to change, but Wanda already knew that.

“What do you think is going to happen?” You asked, voice a low whisper.

The witch could sense the fear in your tone. She wanted to comfort you, tell you that everything is going to be okay. The truth was, she didn’t know what was going to happen. Wanda could never lie to you.

“I don’t know,” Wanda answered truthfully. You sighed and opted to try to sleep when Wanda spoke again.

“What do you want to happen?”

Licking your lips nervously, you let yourself daydream. The vision of a perfect future floated through your mind. You closed your eyes, smiling dreamily at the image in your head. Describing the dream wouldn’t be good enough, so you lifted your girlfriend’s hand to your forehead, giving her permission to enter your mind.

Red wisps of magic entered your mind as you solidified your hopes for the future.

It was simple, a small house by the lake. A miniature beach in front of it, a boardwalk extending into the sea.

You were sitting there, the cold water lapping at your feet as the sun began to set. Wanda was next to you, her hand holding yours. Natasha was also there, watching the sunset while sitting on the hood of her car, watching over you like she always did.

It was peaceful. Everything felt just right.

The vision stopped. Wanda opened her eyes to see you looking at her with a soft smile. Both of you had matching smiles on your faces.

“Anything else?” Wanda asked playfully. You shrugged, humming thoughtfully.

“It’s up to you,” You answered with a smile.

“I want to be happy with you. Whatever makes you happy, I want that too,”

Wanda smiled, her heart melting at your sweet confession. She leaned in for a soft kiss, intertwining her body with yours.

Your vision of a future filled her head, keeping her awake.

Wanda hadn’t ever thought about what she wanted in the future. The fear of not deserving a happy life with someone she loved had stopped her from dreaming.

But your dream was perfect.

It was something she wanted, a happy life with someone she loved, and maybe, just maybe, Wanda could have it.

| Part 13 | 

A/N: I’m thinking of continuing this series all the way through Infinity War and Endgame and I have a whole plan, lemme know if that seems like a good idea (and if you liked this fic ofc!)

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss , @username23345 , @ohfuckno , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @redknight9  , @izalesbean , @anni323 let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) 1: Her Morning Takes a Turn

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 6217

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous Prologue: The Gods Live

The sun was golden against your skin, filling it with warmth and color you rarely ever got. Birds chirped, filling the air with song, and people chatted warmly all around you. You could hear laughter, squealing, sounds of joy and happiness. It was so different from what you were used to.

You exhaled sharply as you opened your eyes, turning your head on a swivel to observe your surroundings.

The open-aired cafe was nestled in a quaint corner of Olympus. Minor gods occupied the tables around you, some accompanied by nymphs or other sprites, others by children, and others still alone. No matter their social situation, everyone looked happy and content. Small children ran between the tables, playing tag and laughing, while their mothers talked and chatted over brunch. You recognized some of the gods and goddesses around.

Peter, a dryad, was at a table with some of his friends. They were all crowded around a phone and laughing to themselves. They seemed to be watching a funny video. If you had to guess, it was probably a silly trend or meme from the Mortal World.

Hope, the goddess of victory, was chatting with her friend Scott, the god of the home and hearth. Both of them had a sandwich and a cup of coffee straight from the Mortal World in front of them, though the food was almost completely forgotten as they talked to each other, deeply engrossed in their conversation.

Small children, nymphs and naiads, ran between the tables in games of tag, squealing as one was dubbed “it” and began to chase the others. They laughed with childish ecstasy, displaying the joy they had in abundance.

The whole area was just alive and warm. It was so foreign to you, but you had to admit that you didn’t mind it. 

The sound of bickering voices drew you from your observations, and you turned your head to the two women before you.

The blonde, your beloved youngest sister, goddess of the sky and queen of the gods, Carol, was sitting up straight, her shoulders rolled back proudly. She had a smug smile on her face; she was obviously winning the argument—something about a dress she said she was going to wear to the Winter Solstice Gala that was coming up in a few months.

The redhead, your younger sister and goddess of the sea, Natasha, was a little more agitated, though it was a sort of playful frustration. She was hunched over with her eyes narrowed at her sister as she insisted, “Carol, that’s my dress.” 

Carol shook her head, her smile only widening. “No, it’s mine. I bought it from a noble lady in London. I remember it as clear as if it was a century ago.”

Nat arched an eyebrow, her lips curling down in a sour frown. “Are you sure you remember it correctly? I could’ve sworn that I bought that dress a couple centuries ago. No, I know I bought it from Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine in 1160.”

You scrunched up your nose. Twelfth-century English fashion? Definitely not your cup of tea. But you remembered the dress vividly. It was a green thing that really complimented Nat’s eyes and hair but with a style that did not meet your preferences.

Your sisters continued to argue about whose dress it was.

You, meanwhile, watched them with amused eyes, shaking your head as they bickered. Your sisters were always ones to fight constantly, though it was always in good nature. They argued about the silliest things that happened millennia ago—who a goat sacrifice was meant for, who got the sea and who got the sky, who got to be the patron goddess of this city-state or that one—and now, they argued about whose clothes were whose. It was comforting to see that some things never changed over the centuries. Every brunch consistently ended with them bickering over the smallest things. Their sandwiches and mugs of their favorite coffees were long forgotten as they got into it. You’d learned to live with it and just let them duke it out; so long as they didn’t actually kill anyone that is.

But listening to them bicker eventually grew boring and tedious and you’d had enough. You groaned and leaned back in your chair, shrugging off your black blazer which had grown sweltering hot in the sun as you went. Now just in a dark grey tank top, your pleated black pants, and a pair of black flats, you felt much cooler and were ready to end the arguing and your misery. “Come on, both of you,” you called, cutting them off. 

They paused their argument and turned towards you, their gazes questioning and demanding as to why you had interrupted them.

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. “Are you kidding me right now? Guys, this is like the only time I can see you for the next month and you want to fight about something stupid and childish?” You grinned at them, your eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. “I wonder why I let you two pretend to be older when you’re so damn immature.”

Carol gasped with mock offense. “You’re only older than us by a decade or two.”

“A decade or two is all it takes, my dear youngest sister. Don’t let the power of your queenship go to your head; I’ll always have sibling superiority over you. And, as the eldest, I say no more bickering.”

“But—”

“It’s Nat’s dress. She did buy it from the queen. There, argument over and you can stop bickering now.”

Nat laughed with an elated “Ha!”

Carol huffed, the breath from her mouth ruffling the hair that framed her face, and gave you an exasperated smile. “Fine, it’s Nat’s. I’ll give it back. We’ll stop bickering. What do you want to talk about since you’re so opposed to hearing our arguing?”

You simply shrugged. Ninety percent of the time you were cool with any topic of conversation, even if it meant listening to their banter, but not today. 

It was one of the few times you dared to venture out of your realm. Being the Queen of the Underworld gave you little to no time to leave. There were always so many things to do and duties to attend to that you rarely made it out for brunch with your sisters on Olympus. Occasions like this were supposed to be a time for you three to catch up, gossip, and bond, not to bicker endlessly about pointless things.

“I’m honestly not sure,” you admitted.

Carol opened her mouth to respond, probably with a snarky remark about how you ought to know what you want to talk about before interrupting an already started conversation, but Natasha beat her to the punch.

“Hey, how’s Mom doing?” she asked, her eyes curious and her posture hunched in to listen. “You saw her last weekend, right? She doing well?”

You nodded, a fond smile pulling at your lips. Out of all your siblings, you were probably the closest to your mother, Rhea. She made a trip downstairs to see you almost every weekend for brunch and to catch up. You’d say she liked coming down so often because it was out of the way and far quieter and calmer than either the Mortal World or Olympus, but you knew it was because she loved your dog. “She’s doing fine.”

Carol leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table, suddenly very interested in this new topic of conversation. As the youngest of you three, she probably had the least amount of time with your mother. But, then again, she was the only one who didn’t get digested and got to see Mom the most in the early years. “Is she still working in that mortal hospital?” Carol asked.

You nodded. “Still in the labor ward. She’s the ‘best labor and delivery nurse they’ve ever had’ last I heard.”

“Well of course she is. She is the titaness of motherhood and ease, among other things,” Nat remarked. She shook her head. “I just wish she’d spend more time up here rather than with the mortals.”

“You know that some of the gods don’t like her,” you murmured. “She’s a titan. They don’t trust her. She’d rather be among the mortals who don’t know her for who she is and help them out.” You shrugged. “Anyways, Carol, how’re your queenly duties going?” You wanted to change the topic away from your mother. While you loved talking to her, it was always weird talking about her with your sisters. They didn’t know her like you did; they didn’t know her in the beginning.

Carol hummed. “Oh, you know, they’re going fine. I have to deal with people’s shit all day every day. You’d think that we gods, being as old as we are, would’ve already worked out our problems by now. I mean, Wanda and Pietro still bicker about who’s the better archer, Loki still plays rude pranks, I can barely keep the newer gods in line. I swear, once they find out they’re immortal, it’s a shit-show. They take on the most daring dares and wreak havoc on the Mortal World any chance they get. I know they don’t always mean to be a pain in my ass, but it happens. Oh! But did you hear? The Muses are planning a concert. They’ve got music from…”

And that was about the point when you tuned her out. You didn’t always care about what responsibilities came with ruling Olympus, but you did enjoy seeing her getting excited about the things in her life. She might’ve been a queen, but she was still your baby sister. 

As Carol continued to rant and rave about the concert, you failed to notice Natasha sliding her chair closer to you until she was right on top of you.

“So, (y/n).”

You jumped in your seat. She’d snuck up on you, quiet as the gentle sea she ruled over. You glanced sideways at her, your lips curling back in a sneer. You knew that look on her face and you didn’t like it one bit. “Nat… Don’t you even think about it.”

Natasha smirked, her outward expression cool and collected, but her green eyes roaring like waves on a stormy night with devious plans. “Oh? Think about what, my dearest sister?” Her voice was sickly sweet and practically dripping with honey. 

You narrowed your eyes, your heart dropping in your chest as it steeled itself against what was coming. “You look like you’re trying to play matchmaker and thinking about setting me up with someone again,” you spat. “Well my answer is what it’s been for the past two thousand years: no.”

Carol had stopped talking about the Muses and was now looking at you with pitiful and sad eyes. “(y/n)...”

“Don’t ‘(y/n)’ me, Care. I’ve told you time and time again, I’m fine. I don’t need to go out on a date, I don’t need a boyfriend or a girlfriend, I’m perfectly happy alone.” You didn’t need any of the trouble that came with a steady relationship. You’d had your fill of that over the years. Hands running down your body, lips kissing your mouth, flesh pressed against flesh… You shuddered.

“We know,” Nat said as she tried to placate you, “and we admire you for your strength. ‘You’re a strong independent woman who don’t need no man’ and all, but we think it might be good for you to go out and try to meet someone. That way you wouldn’t have to be so alone down in the Underworld.”

You frowned. “But I’m not alone down there. I have Cerber—” 

“Cerberus,” they finished in unison.

“We know,” Natasha continued. “But we think you’d benefit from some human contact once in a while. We know you still see Mom, and that Clint and Pierce visit you on their errands, but most of the time… You’re all alone down there and we just think you’d be happier if you had someone. I know I’d have already lost my mind underwater if I didn’t have Bruce to keep me company, and Carol wouldn’t be able to stay sane if Maria wasn’t with her.”

Carol nodded in silent agreement, her eyes pleading. “We just want what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me?” You could feel small bits of agitation rising up in you as you stared them down. The world began to tint red in your sight.

Natasha bit at her lip as she stared you down. “(y/n),” she said, her voice taut and stiff with caution. “Your eyes.”

You turned towards her. 

Her body was rigid and alert, almost as if she was preparing to defend herself. She only took that stance when something made her nervous.

And that something was you.

You sighed and mumbled, “Sorry,” before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in through your nose. 

In, out. In, out. In, out.

When you opened your eyes again, the world had returned to its normal color and you were a little calmer. “Sorry,” you mumbled, your head dipping down in a nod. You heaved a sigh and pursed your lips. “Guys, look, I really appreciate you thinking about me and my happiness, but seriously, butt out of my love life. I don't need anybody; I’m perfectly capable of ruling the Underworld on my own.” You shifted in your seat and averted your eyes. “Besides, I don’t think anyone could really handle me right now.” Also, you had the feeling that no one could give you the long-lasting love you craved.

Both your sisters went quiet, their eyes downcast and solemn. 

You couldn’t help but feel bad for telling them off again. You knew that they just wanted what was best for you, but at the same time, you knew yourself better than anyone. You knew you didn’t need to be set up and that, when you were ready, you’d find someone yourself.

You cleared your throat and began to pull your blazer back on. “I should probably get going now,” you said, grabbing a black handbag that was sitting beside your chair and pulling the strap onto your shoulder. “Lots of things to attend to down under. It’s time for the weekly check on Tartarus.” You inhaled sharply and rolled your eyes, hoping to convey a feeling of exasperation to them. You had no intention of letting them know that you were over godly contact and ready to go home to peace and solitude.

Natasha chuckled. “I don’t know why you don’t send Pierce to do it. He’s capable.”

“Yeah, he’s capable, but you know how persuasive our father can be if he gets into somebody’s head. And, although Alexander is a great god of death, I don’t necessarily trust his mental strength against him. It’s just best if I do it. I know his tricks, I know his lies, I know how to resist him.” You gave your sisters a small smile. “Take care, you two. Tell Maria and Bruce I said ‘hi,’ and don’t go burning down the world before our next brunch. The Underworld is full enough; we don’t need any early arrivals.” You stood up and pushed in your chair.

Carol stood up and made quick strides across the table to your side. With one fluid motion, she reached for you, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into a hug. She held you tight. “We miss you up here, (y/n). Please, don’t be a stranger, and come back more often.”

You hugged her back tightly. “I’ll try. When things start calming down again, I’ll come back.”

“Just make sure it’s before another half-decade has passed!” Nat called from her spot off to the side.

You pulled away from Carol and shot your other sister a teasing glare. “Then tell the Fates to stop throwing me curve balls and fucking up my life!” You slid over to her and hugged her as well. “Don’t forget, you can always come down to see me instead. I know it’s dark and gloomy down there, but I’ve remodeled my house and I think it’s really nice.”

“So you’re out of your gothic phase?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up. “Gods, I thought we agreed to never speak about that again. I liked the architecture!”

“Mhmm, and the black clothes, and the heavy eyeliner,” Carol began to list, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Oh, shut up! The castle’s gone. No more gothic. Now it’s more modern. Have you ever seen those American houses where they’re an open concept, all sleek and box-like?”

Both your sisters nodded.

“It’s kinda like that.”

Natasha whistled. “Nice. Is it still black?”

“Of course.” You chuckled. “Could you imagine a bright yellow house in the middle of the Underworld?”

“It does sound ridiculous,” Carol admitted. 

“Exactly. The black is there to stay.” You smiled softly and took a small step away from your family. “I’ll see you both later.”

Carol’s lips twitched up in a sad smile as she brought a hand up to wave at you. “See you soon.”

Natasha simply nodded at you, a tiny smile of her own on her face.

And then you turned your back and walked away from them. You made your way to the cafe’s gate and pushed it open, making your exit.

It was a short walk back to the main road of Olympus. It was easy to know when you’d arrived because street vendors crowded the sides and people filled the streets. Gods, goddesses, nymphs, naiads, satyrs, and all other sorts of creatures bustled around, darting in and out from stall to stall. Families with children stopped to chit chat with each other, couples held hands as they browsed, and singular people shopped with a purpose. Everyone had a smile on their face, everyone was happy. For a normal person, the path would be almost impossible to navigate. 

But not for you.

The second you got within five feet of a nymph or naiad, they stiffened and the hairs on the back of their neck stood up. They sensed the death that surrounded you and instinctively inched away. Their heads were put on a swivel as they searched for the source of their discomfort and, when they saw you, they prickled further and took a step out of your way, clearing your path.

It used to bother you how they’d avoid you like the plague but now you’d come to accept it. You reeked like death; they sensed it; they didn’t like it. You learned almost two thousand years ago to not take it personally. They didn’t hate you, they just hated what you were and what you stood for. Besides, you never had to be stuck in foot traffic. 

You sauntered down the opening in the road, going as quick as you could so as not to disturb them any longer, but not in a rush. Though you knew you weren’t welcome by most of Olympus’ citizens, you quite enjoyed the feeling of the sun on your skin whenever you came. The feeling was alien to you, but it was pleasant enough to make you want to bask in it for as long as possible. 

You made your way up the road, slowly climbing closer and closer to the golden palace of the gods where your youngest sister lived. It was in her front yard where you could safely make your way home without pissing anybody off.

After all, the quickest way back to the Underworld was to have the ground swallow you up. The journey didn’t leave any gaping hole behind you—the ground always closed up after you sank in—but it did leave an Asphodel flower in your stead. 

Carol didn’t mind having the flowers dot the lawn of her palace. Most Olympians hated the sight of them and saw them only as a bad omen, but Carol knew there was nothing really wrong with the flower. The reason they got such a bad reputation was that they were linked to you. 

Asphodel flowers only grew in the Asphodel Meadows in the Underworld. Mortals believed they had a positive role in the Greek afterlife, but not the Olympians. To them, the immortals, anything related to the Underworld was taboo, almost like it was death itself. Things touched by death and the Underworld were considered dangerous and to be avoided at all costs. You learned a long time ago that if you let the ground swallow you up and plant a flower in your place, the area where you left would be avoided for decades even after the flower had died. It caused a lot of inconveniences for the Olympian people, so you just decided to avoid public places and go to your sister’s yard instead. It was cleaner and less of a nuisance for others that way.

You strolled into the palace’s yard, treading down towards the furthermost corner of the area. There, a small garden of Asphodel flowers lays perfectly still and undisturbed. They’d grown to be as tall as your waist and they shuffled as you moved about them. You tried to keep the garden as small as possible so as to not “contaminate” a large area. You stopped in the center of the garden and dug into your pocket. Your skin hit tiny seeds—Asphodel seeds—and you plucked one out before dropping it onto the grass. 

The seed sank into the dirt, disappearing almost immediately, and the ground rumbled beneath you as it began to tear itself apart. It caved in, carving out a tunnel for you to sink into.

You simply crossed your arms, closed your eyes, and rolled your neck to stretch. You’d made this journey so many times that the fall hardly phased you anymore. You remembered doing it the first couple of times and panicking as you fell. Now, it was as easy as taking a step. 

You dropped through layers upon layers of rock, finally breaking out into a chasm. Your feet hit the ground and you bent your knees to absorb the impact, straightening up when you were steady. You rose to your full height and stood tall, gazing down a mountain at the whole of the Underworld.

You’d been deposited right on the front stoop of your mansion. Perched on the top of a small mountain, you could see everything from the front door.

At the far reaches of your kingdom, you could see the place where the Cocytus, the River of Wailing fed into the Acheron, the River of Woe, which stood as the border between the Mortal World and the Underworld. The far bank of the Acheron was crowded with souls waiting for passage over the water and the near bank was organized with lines leading up to and disappearing into the judgment pavilion. From the pavilion, three lines branched out and led to the three sections of the Underworld: the Asphodel Meadows, Elysium, and Tartarus.

The Asphodel Meadows spanned the majority of the large chasm that was your domain. The flowers swayed without a breeze, instead moved by spirits who wandered aimlessly. It was a place for those who had led ordinary lives, not good enough to achieve Elysium, but not evil enough to deserve Tartarus. The Meadows were as calm as calm could be, perfect for walking your dog or lazing around on a rare free day. Billions of spirits resided there, all of them calm, gentle, and ordinary.

Elysium, with its warm atmosphere, beautiful gardens, and elaborate homes sat just off to the side of the Meadows, its entrance near the base of your mountain. Sanctioned off by towering gates and walls, it lay separate from the rest of the Underworld. It was the place where the best of the best lived after death, filled with kind, generous, and beautiful souls. The souls that had been reborn and achieved Elysium three times lived on the Isles of the Blessed which were three little islands that sat in the middle of a lake in the heart of Elysium. You loved walking down the streets in Elysium. Everyone was so friendly and not a soul shied away from you. They had no reason to fear death; after all, they were already dead. Some of the spirits that had been there long enough were friendly enough to invite you for dinner on the occasional evening when they’d catch you patrolling the streets or walking Cerberus. Those were the nights you enjoyed the most. Mrs. Thomas made a fantastic roast chicken. It was truly a good place to be.

And then there was Tartarus; the “pit”. You shuddered just thinking about that place. It was where the evil souls went when they died, a place of torture, punishment, misery, and pain. It was mainly managed by three of your lieutenants known as “the Furies.” When they weren’t pursuing the wicked in the Mortal World, they were overseeing the torture of the worst of the worst deep in the pit. It lay just beyond the main body of your realm, accessible only through a cave that carved a hole in the outermost wall of the chasm that was the Underworld. The Phlegethon, the River of Fire, with its angry red flames that leaped out at anybody who dared get close to it, flowed into the tunnel taking up half of its opening. The river flowed deep until the point when the tunnel opened up to a cave. Dark, sharp stalactites hung from the cave’s ceiling, ready to fall at any second and impale those beneath them. There was a hole in the middle of the ground that seemed endless, but really, it fed into the real Tartarus. The river flowed into the pit, turning into a waterfall as it roared down. It was a long way down, said to be “as far beneath Hades as heaven is above earth” if you read that epic The Iliad from some Greek guy named Homer. It was about a nine days’ fall to reach the bottom of the pit where the souls were tortured and the worst beings were imprisoned.

You’d only been down there once, millennia ago, when you locked up the bastard you called “Father” and his brothers Crius, Iapetus, Coeus, and Hyperion, and you never wanted to go down again. It was nothing but red and angry. The Phlegethon was even more violent down there than it was in the main Underworld as it tore through the terrain. Tartarus itself was like a whole new world. It was seemingly endless, but it only had the one exit. One could get lost and be trapped there for eternity if they weren’t careful.

It was at the far reaches of the pit, farther than any soul or spirit dared to venture, that you imprisoned your father and uncles, binding them with the strongest chains you could make and sealing them with every spell, curse, and enchantment that you could think of. Layer upon layer of protection was placed upon them, making it nearly impossible for them to escape. You separated the five of them and placed them as far apart from each other as you could so that they could not feed on each other’s strength and escape. Your uncles, as formidable of foes as they were, were no threat to you anymore. They’d gone dormant after the first thousand years or so, reserved to their fates; but not your father.

Kronos continued to fight against his restraints, trying every day to escape, spending as much strength as he could muster to fight your barriers against him. Over the centuries he had succeeded in breaking some of them, specifically the old ones you had placed when you’d first imprisoned him. He was always chipping away at them, trying to weaken them enough to break free to exact his revenge on you and your sisters.

But you’d never let that happen. That was one of the reasons you made your weekly ventures to the edge of the pit. From up above, you could cast more spells to strengthen and set more layers on his bindings. Every week you added more and more to his cage, replacing those he broke, rejuvenating those he damaged, and adding new ones as an extra precaution.

Your sisters were fair to wonder why you didn’t let your inferiors or lieutenants take care of this task for you, but you had your reasons.

For the first couple of years that you guarded his prison, you did let some underlings take care of it. Peggy, your second in command, best friend, and the goddess of magic, volunteered to take care of it while you worked to get the Underworld under control and install order. She did a good job of keeping the spells strong and watertight, but she wasn’t infallible.

Your father, the extremely powerful titan that he is, found ways to let his conscience escape and make its way up to the surface. He would get into her head and anyone else who got close and twist their thoughts around, slowly turning them to his side and against the gods.

It took you a decade to notice that Peggy was under his control. You’d had your suspicions that she wasn’t herself, but it was when she tried to pull a knife on you and slit your throat that your suspicions were confirmed. It broke your heart to have Cerberus restrain her while you reached into her head and yanked Kronos out. Her screams still haunt you to this day. 

But from that day on, while Peggy was recovering, it was you that took care of the cage. That was how it should’ve been in the beginning, but you’d let her take on that responsibility for you. Never again would you subject another being to that. You did not know what it was like to have him in your head, but you had an idea of what it was like in his, and you couldn’t bear inflicting that kind of pain again. So, in addition to making frequent check-ups on the men and women who worked for you to make sure there wasn’t any trace of his influence, you took it upon yourself to personally deal with strengthening his prison every week.

Which was what you had to do right now.

With a heavy sigh, you turned back to look at your mansion and whistled.

At once, a crash, bang, thud, and whimper broke the silence and you could see a large black mass barreling at you from inside the house. The hulking figure shot through a wide doggy door just to the side of your front door and charged at you. 

Your entire face lit up with a laugh as Cerberus attacked you, jumping up to place his paws on your chest so he could have easy access to lick your face. Thankfully he was in his small form so there was only one head trying to lovingly maul you. If he had been full-sized, you’d have an issue. 

At his full height, Cerberus was as tall as your mountain in the Underworld, with three large heads that could see almost everything. When he wasn’t around you in his small size, he’d stand at the gates of the Underworld, guarding the borders and making sure that the rogue spirits didn’t escape. He seemed ferocious and scary because he closely resembled a large black wolf with deep red eyes, but he was really a gentle giant and your metaphorical baby.

You lifted your head up to avoid his eager tongue, instead allowing him to attack your neck as your laughter rang out in the still air. “Cerberus! Down, boy! Down! Yes, it’s good to see you too.” Once you’d gotten him calmed down, you crouched so you were at his eye level and scratched him behind the ears. “Who’s a good boy?”

He barked as if to say, “Me! Me! I am!”

You simply grinned at him and leaned forward to press your forehead to his, a common gesture of affection for you with him. “I’ve gotta go make sure Father hasn’t done anything stupid in a week, you wanna come with me?”

As if it was even a question. Cerberus always accompanied you on your trips, acting as a good guard dog to protect you from some of the spirits that dwelled on the pit’s edges—not that you really needed it, you just loved his company.

“Let’s go.” You straightened up and started to walk down the mountain path.

Cerberus kept perfect pace with you. He knew the way almost as well as you did.

Down the mountain and through the Asphodel Meadows. Cross the Meadows to the Phlegethon and follow the river to the mouth of the cave. Then it was a straight shot into the pit where you could cast your spells. Simple, easy, quick.

You knew the way by heart, not even bothering to look up as you went. Asphodel flowers crunched under your flats as you crossed the Meadows and spirits parted for you to get through; not that they needed to, they were just being polite.

You and Cerberus strolled through the Meadows, coming up to the Phlegethon and following it towards Tartarus.

You had to force your feet to walk as you got closer, a sense of unparalleled dread washing over you. Shivers crept down your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Tartarus was always a daunting place, but today it almost seemed… more so. And as soon as you took one step into the entrance, you knew that something was seriously wrong.

You stopped short, your feet planted into the ground. Your stomach dropped and every warning alarm you had was going off in your head. 

Cerberus had frozen, his ears flattened against his head and his lips pulled back in a snarl. His whole body was positioned to pounce at the drop of a hat.

You rolled your shoulders back and narrowed your eyes. The world began to tint red at the edges, the color slowly creeping in to cover your entire vision. With this new sight, you could see deeper into the tunnel where you saw figures writhing closer and closer to the pit. Something was in the cave, something that didn’t belong.

You grit your teeth and nodded your head towards Cerberus. “Go get Aunt Peggy,” you commanded in a low voice.

He didn’t need to be told twice and took off running as soon as the words left your lips.

You didn’t take your eyes off the mouth of the cave as you extended your hand, calling forth into being your weapon: a sleek black bident that was as tall as you were. Forged for you by the cyclopes millennia ago when you first fought your father, your vibranium bident was a formidable weapon. It was a lot like your sister’s trident, but with two prongs instead of three that branched out from the spear at the height of your chin. Your bident was your primary weapon used for fighting. It allowed you to manipulate spirits and channel magic, morph terrain, and wield the energy of the Underworld, among other things. Plus it was good for stabbing. 

You tightened your grip around the bident’s shaft and lifted it off the ground, moving slowly into the cave. Your feet never made a sound as you stepped closer and closer to the writhing mass. As you neared the souls, your fingers began to turn white with how tight you were holding your weapon, raising it to strike at any second. You were prepared to fight off a small militia of evil souls trying to escape, but what you found when you reached them was not a coup preparing to strike. 

No, the souls were, instead, swarming around a figure.

You muscled your way in through the crowd, using your bident to shove the spirits out of the way and dissipate them. You got to the center of their swarm and looked down. But instead of seeing an animal corpse or something of the likes, you saw something far more serious: a man.

The man seemed to be about your physical age, but you could tell almost right away from the aura he radiated that, like you, he was probably much older than he looked. His short dark hair was tousled and matted, no doubt from the spirits grabbing at it, and his clothes—what once seemed to be a pristine white shirt and jeans—were torn with claw marks and black with dirt. His shocking blue eyes stared up at the ceiling of the chasm, full of despair and hopelessness. He’d obviously started to lose hope that he’d ever escape the clutches of evil that held him tight.

You didn’t have much time to register who he was or what he was doing in Tartarus. You were just in shock that this man, this very alive man, had made it into your domain without you knowing. Your grip slackened and you stared down at him, surprise rising up in you with rage boiling up behind it as the only words you could manage to speak were, “Oh fuck.”

Next 2: He Becomes a Trespasser

[themarshmallownerd]

Protection

Summary: In a world where fate connects soulmates by sending possessions lost by one to be found by the other, Wanda loses everything she has to a mate that may not even be there.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Wanda Maximoff

Rating: Teen+

Link: AO3

A/N: A sidequel to Devotion. That story does not need to be read in order to understand this one, but it is a companion piece. Personally, I believe it better if that one is read first, but it is not necessary.

Also, I think this one deserves a stronger warning for depictions of violence and torture. Additionally, there are warnings for depictions of canon and minor character deaths. Please, read at your own discretion!

Preview: “Fascinating,” Baron Strucker said when he observed the results of his experiments, watching the twins writhe on the floors of their respective cells. As they struggled to physically adapt to the unnatural energies that now hovered around them like that which hovered around the stone in the scepter. A pale, slate-blue around Pietro and a vibrant, ruby-red around Wanda.

Dr. List hadn’t been quite as impressed. He was apprehensive. Wanda couldn’t see it, for she was curled in on herself too tightly, but she could feel it. The first time she had ever felt someone else’s mind, though she hadn’t known that to be what it was at the time. “This is not how the enhancements were supposed to manifest.”

“I know, doctor,” Strucker had replied, still with eyes only for the people he had taken and remade with an artifact that did not rightfully belong to him. That did not rightfully belong on Earth. “They are even better.”

List had made a begrudging sound. “Well, regardless, the director will want to see. He says he wants to interview any survivors from our base for compatibility with the Asset.”

Strucker had gone silent for a beat. Then he spoke again, now with a hardness in his tone. “The director will want his Asset to train them like soldiers. And these…this power is not for soldiers.”

“Sir?”

Another moment of silence. Another line of thought entering the surface of a mind. “Doctor. I want you to tell the director that there were no survivors.”

Wanda blacked out after that. However, she carried the memory of Strucker’s genuine awe with them in the days after. When the agents of the facility beat them for the first time. 

Wanda had still been in the hazy portion of the experiments, continuously drifting between consciousness and not. When she awoke, she was in one of the labs used for physical examinations. She rolled over on her table, still groggy and with bones still aching, to find Pietro struggling against a pair of soldiers. List was moving as if to leave the room just as Strucker entered, both of them bearing expressions of frustration that usually came from a minor inconvenience. 

It hadn’t been minor to Pietro, though. He was clawing at the soldiers attempting to hold him down, his body wracked with tremors, with the first hints of the spontaneous kinetic energy that would allow him to move at the speeds he eventually would. He was reaching for whatever List was about to carry out of the room with him. When List turned to explain the situation to Strucker, Wanda had gotten a better view of what was in his hand. It was a spiral notebook, bright with its light blue cover, unlike the dusty brown books the scientists used.

It was from Pietro’s mate.

“Just let me read one,” he had begged. “I want to know she’s alright—”

“We can’t let them have contact with foreign commodities,” List had been telling Strucker at the same time. “It could interfere with the alien properties’ integration in their systems.”

Strucker had nodded in agreement. “Very well. As future assets, they will need to learn to reject material possessions that may compromise them or a mission anyways.”

The declaration seemed to summon another pair of soldiers at that very moment. They abandoned their attempts to simply get Pietro onto the examination table beside his sister’s, and looked to be herding him out of the room altogether, through the door to the hallway that led to their cells. Pietro only fought harder, stubbornness still clearly set in his bones and desperation to stay connected to his mate—even as small a piece as one of her lost notebooks—driving him. That was when the soldiers turned to more belligerent methods, their fear of strangeness manifesting into physical force as Pietro’s speed began to stir into being, blurring the very sight of him.

Wanda remembered recognizing when he was struck. She remembered the sharp thought of no! Don’t touch him! cutting through her disorientation, startling her to full wakefulness. She remembered anger clouding her mind, blinding her to the fact that a cloud of tangible red burst out of her form. A blood-red colored explosion, knocking agents and equipment and even Dr. List and the Baron into the walls. 

But not her brother. Never Pietro. Even when her powers were new to her, reacting to every subconscious whim, she wouldn’t let them hurt her kin, her only companion for the past fifteen years. Instead, he collapsed on the floor the moment the soldiers holding him were thrown off. Wanda had been across the room in a heartbeat, sliding onto her knees and curling around him, tucking her brother’s head and as much of his torso as would fit against her stomach. Shielding him. Cursing him under her breath, because she didn’t have a mate of her own to help her understand why it mattered so much to hear from one after months of silence.

“You’re so stupid. You’re so fucking stupid. You don’t ever listen.”

I don’t want you to get hurt, she meant. Not for her. Not for a connection I can’t understand, myself.

[thot4marvel]

you should see me in a crown

TW: Underage Drinking, Angst, Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Swearing, Violence, Drug Misuse, and Mention of Death.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes x Sister!Reader, Brock Rumlow x Reader, Pietro Maximoff x OC!Sierra Johnson, Reader x Avengers (Platonic)

Summary: Y/N Barnes and Pietro Maximoff, the power duo of the school, arrive at senior year of high school with their friend group, The Avengers. Things are going great for Y/N and Pietro’s friendship until life started to go downhill after the party. Will her feelings be returned or rejected?

тыква means pumpkin.

Outfit Inspo

   Her alarm clock goes off loudly as the clock strikes 7:00 am on a Monday. Y/N has had a change of attitude due to recent events. She's become more stable and ready for vengeance. She rushes to her bathroom to take a nice hot shower to wake her up. She steps out of the shower and looks at herself through the foggy bathroom mirror. 

     "You got this. Just be the same old Y/N with a reality check," she breathes. She looks at self one more time in the mirror before going to her closet. She passes all the shirts on the hangers until she found the best one. Y/N puts on a white wrap long sleeve top that ends at her midriff with dark blue high waisted jeans. She looks over at the clock that reads, 7:48, in its big red coloring. Her eyes widen at the time, Y/N quickly puts on her Air Jordan 1 Retro Obsidians as she runs to the living room. She grabs her keys, phone, and backpack as she rushes out of the front door and into her car. She looks at her rearview mirror to swiftly put on her lipgloss. Bucky was already at school with Steve to help with some student council event, so it was just Y/N entering the school by herself. She parked in the school parking lot near Nat's car, Y/N glances at her self in the rearview mirror and sees a flash of sinister in her eyes. She steps out of her car, and everyone stares at her as she walks to the school entrance. She smirks as she notices all of their attention is on her and only her. The boys catcall and continue to stare at her while the girls glare at her and gossip about her.

     "Do you think her and Brock broke up," Nebula whispers.

     "I don't know, but he's been on Sharon's story a lot," Gamora answers.

     "Woah, who is that," Happy asks while starstruck at the woman walking down the hall.

     "Dude, that's Y/N," Scott shockingly responds. Everyone continued to stare until the bell rung, making everyone head to class in a frenzy. Y/N heads to her first class, which happens to be the class she shares with Brock and Sharon. She walks into her first class and immediately feels pairs of eyes on her. Y/N walks to the seat next to Natasha but drops her pen on her way there. As she reaches to grab her pen, she notices Quill stare at her with lust in his eyes. She slowly bends back up, but she continues to gaze at Quill with desire in her eyes. Her eyes remain on his eyes until she walked to the seat near Natasha.

     "Damn, Y/N, you got these boys chasing after you," Nat comments.

     "Shut up," she laughs.

     "Y/N," a voice speaks.

     "Yes," Y/N answers as she turns to see who it was. It was Quill with the same lustful look in his eyes. As he whispers sweet nothings into her ear, she focuses her attention on Brock, who is scowling in her direction. Y/N playfully leans into Quill while still staring at Brock mischievously.

     "Meet me at the football field sometimes," Quill finishes.

     "I'll think about it," she whispers teasingly in his ear. As Quill walks back to his seat, Brock glowers at him the whole time.

     "Uh Oh, side-eye at 3 o'clock," Natasha alerts. Y/N glances over to the side and sees Sharon glaring at her. Y/N casually flips her off and turns back towards the lesson. 

   After boring classes and rumors spreading around the school, the lunch bell rang, now Y/N can finally stop hearing whispers about her. She heads to the table where her brother and Steve are already sitting.

     "You look like a psychopath," Bucky comments.

     “Thank you," she smirks. The rest of the group started to head in the cafeteria and sit down at the lunch table. 

     "Here's your daily iced coffee," Tony says as he hands her the cold drink.

     "I love you so much, Y/N praises. She goes to drink the coffee, but a roar of laughter stops her. Y/N glances over to the table where the noise came from to see Sharon looks at her and then murmurs something to the table.

     "I-Uhm. I'll be back," Y/N stutters.

     "Just don't kill anyone in the process," Sam jests.

     "I'll try," she grins. Y/N sneaks to Sharon's table so she can hear what Sharon is saying without her noticing. Y/N tightly grips her iced coffee as she hears someone mention her name.

     "Y/N thinks she's all that. She thinks she runs this school. That's why I got with Brock," Sharon rants.

     "And he tasted amazing-"

   Sharon was interrupted by Y/N pouring her iced cold coffee on her long, blonde hair.

I like the way they all

     "BARNES," Sharon shrieks as she jumps out of her seat.

Scream

     "Yes," Y/N answers sinisterly.

     "I'm going to destroy you," Sharon yells.

     "Are you," Y/N dares as she walks away.

     "Wait, I have a question to ask you," Y/N challenges as she walks back to Sharon.

     "What is it," Sharon annoyingly asks.

     "How do I taste," Y/N provokes. Sharon's face turned red from embarrassment as she ran out of the cafeteria. Y/N chuckles at her reaction and, so does everyone else. Y/N starts to walk back to the lunch table but was guided out of the cafeteria to the hallway by Brock.

     "Why are you acting like this," Brock scowls.

     "Acting like what," she questions.

     "Acting like we aren't together," he snarls.

     "Oh, I thought kissing other people and not texting me back meant we aren't together anymore," she retorts.

     "C'mon baby, Sharon doesn't mean anything to me," he sighs.

     "She wasn't talking about you like it was nothing," Y/N quips with her arms crossed.

     "Baby, you're prettier than her. I would pick you over her any day," he expresses as he caresses his hand on her cheek.

     "I'm okay," Y/N scoffs as she pushes his hand off of her cheek.

    "I'm not your baby if you think I'm pretty," she growls.

    "We're over," Y/N scolds at him as she starts to walk away.

    "Y/N," Brock calls after her. Y/N continues to walk away while she gives him the middle finger. 

    "Y/N," someone yells behind her.

    "What," Y/N angrily asks as she turns around to meet Sierra.

    "Please don't tell him," Sierra pleads.

    "Oh, I will," Y/N taunts.

    "I'll tell him myself. I promise," Sierra negotiates.

    "We all know you would not tell him yourself," Y/N argues.

    "Please," Sierra begs.

    "Should've thought about that before cheating on him," Y/N sasses. Y/N grabs her books from her locker and walks to her next class. Her last few classes consisted of people still whispering about her, boys trying to hit on her, and boring lessons.

   The last bell rang to announce that the school day was over. Y/N walked over to her locker to pack her homework and books into her backpack. 

     "Y/N, I'm so glad you put Sharon in her place," Wanda says as she walks up to Y/N.

     "Someone had to do it," Y/N shrugs. They pass by Sierra and see she has a terrified look on her face.

     "Are you ready," Wanda asks as they walk out of the school door.

     "I'm nervous, but I'm sure he'll understand," Y/N answers. They walk up the hill to their usual spot and see Pietro is waiting for them at the tree. 

     "Hey," Y/N greets.

     "Hey, тыква," Pietro greets back.

     "It's been a while since we talked," he continues.

     "Maybe we should all catch up," Wanda suggests. The three spent talking about how they've changed since the last time they all hung out together. Sierra was the only reason Pietro stopped hanging around them, but he doesn't realize that.

     "So what was the important thing you had to tell me," Pietro asks. Wanda and Y/N both looked at each other with anxious written all over their faces. 

     "It's about Sierra," Wanda answers.

     "What about her," he says in a curious tone.

     "Pietro. I-I'm sorry," Wanda stutters.

     "Sorry for what. What's going on," Pietro rages.

     "She cheated on you," Y/N blurts out.

     "A-are y-you sure," he sputters.

     "Yes, I caught her and Thor at a party," Y/N explains. Pietro paces back and forth, not knowing what to do.

     "I don't believe you," Pietro growls.

     "We would we lie about this," Wanda argues.

     "Pietro, you have to believe us-"

     "You guys never liked her for no reason," he interrupts Y/N.

     "And when I'm finally happy with someone, you guys want to ruin it," he rants.

     "We aren't trying it ruin your relationship," Wanda grumbles.

     "Yes, you are. Just because I'm your twin brother doesn't mean I have to listen to you, Wanda," Pietro scolds.

     "Pietro, we are trying to help," Y/N consoles.

     "Help with what? My relationship," he questions.

     "No, help you from getting hurt," she explains.

     "Y/N, just because you and Brock had issues and broke up doesn't mean you get to do that to my relationship," he insults. Wanda looked over at her and saw that Y/N was on the verge of crying.

     "That's not what she's trying to Pietro," Wanda reasons.

     "Go ruin your life with drugs. Don't try to ruin mine in the process," Pietro storms off. 

Your silence is my favorite sound

   Tears start to spill out of Y/N's eyes after Pietro's harsh words. 

     "Y/N, I'm so sorry about him. I'll talk to him," Wanda comforts.

     "Thank you," Y/N wipes away her tears, and Wanda chases after her brother. 

   As the week goes back, Pietro's harsh words kept replaying in her mind. Y/N had worn a fake smile and not let anyone see her true feelings through this entire week until Friday. Y/N was in the school bathroom when those words got in her head.

     "Your little plan didn't work," Sierra nags as she enters the bathroom. Y/N ignores her and tries to leave, but Sierra stops her.

     "You should listen to what he said," Sierra scowls.

     "What," Y/N croaks.

     "That you should go ruin your life with drugs," Sierra snarls. Y/N's wall around her feelings had broken down after those words. Y/N runs out of the bathroom and out of the school. She gets into her car and drives home as tears flow down her cheeks. Y/N pulls into her driveway and quickly enters her house. She collapses on her bed, thinking about the incidents with Pietro and Sierra. Y/N falls asleep with the words still replaying in her mind and tear-stained cheeks.

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Eighteen:

With the second load of laundry in the dryer and the third load in the washer, Steve got the Halloween decorations out of the attic. Sure, Bucky would probably be upset with him for going into the dusty area and for getting the large tubs down by himself. Especially since Bucky wasn't there in case of the asthma attack was too severe and Wanda hadn't been taught what to do in case of an emergency. But Steve wanted decorate. Plus, he felt like he was just waiting. Waiting for the kids to get out of school. Waiting for the older ones to come home from college. Waiting for the game tonight and pumpkin picking tomorrow.

And Steve hated waiting. Especially when he was excited.

So, Steve lugged the tubs downstairs to the main floor of the house. When he dragged the third one down the staircase, Wanda placed Holly in her play-pen and asked, "Would you like some help?"

"Thank you," Steve huffed, trying to catch his breath. "But I've got it." Resting once it was on the ground, Steve took his inhaler from his pocket -- see, Bucky, I do have some sense -- and took two large hits before looking over at Wanda with a smile, "You can help decorate, if you want."

"Sure," Wanda grinned. Pushing up the sleeves of her sweater up, she asked, "Where do you want me to start?"

"Well," Steve pushed his hair away from his face while he tucked the inhaler back into his pocket, and gestured over to the tubs, "You can get the pillows out."

"This is just pillows?" Wanda quirked a brow as she eyed the large plastic tub. Holding her bump, she leaned to the side and looked into the clear bottom.

"And blankets," Steve clarified, dragging the tub around, so it was out of the way. As he popped the lid off the one he carried down last, he told Wanda, "Just put them wherever you want."

Wanda nodded, grabbing a cream colored throw pillow with festive black and orange text as it proclaimed: Home Sweet HAUNTED Home. In her other hand, she grabbed an orange pillow with a black haunted house silhouette. As she leaned over the back of the gray sofa, she asked, "Is there a place for the regular pillows? Or do I leave them?"

Walking up the stairs, so he could weave the black garland with metallic pumpkins around the banister, Steve answered, "Put them in the tub, please."

"Got it," Wanda assured, turning back and getting more throw pillows. Typically, they liked to have five decorate pillows on the sofa. Even if they only ended up on the floor once the kids got comfortable.

Soon enough, the pair worked in comfortable silence with the only sound coming from the TV. Occasionally, the pair would pause to watch what was going on in the Halloween baking/pumpkin sculpting competition that neither put on but neither felt like changing the channel. Especially not when the final product was revealed.

"What are they thinking? Making it that big?" Steve asked, holding the white, black, and orange ornament wreath. Clearly distracted on his way to the front door.

"I think that's the point," Wanda distractedly answered. Just as into it as Steve while she clutched a ghost plush to her front.

Steve's brows furrowed and he commented, "Well, that's just a poor choice. They're going to waste all their time on the thing's body that they won't have time for anything else."

Wanda simply shrugged. As Steve walked over to the front door to hang the wreath, she said, "You know, I've never meant anyone who decorated this much for Halloween."

"I don't know very many either," Steve admitted, crossing to the tub and pulling out some more decorations. Juggling the small crocheted pumpkins, he started setting them up along the fireplace mantel in front of the wall-mounted TV. "Halloween has always been my favorite, but Bucky made it even more special."

"How'd he do that?" Wanda asked as she draped a purple, orange, and black crocheted afghan on the back of the gray couch.

A small smile tugged at Steve's mouth as he picked up the ceramic bird knick knacks, "He took me to a Halloween mixer and spent the night dancing with me. Back then, he was a bit of a womanizer and all these girls kept trying to get his attention, but he kept it on me."

"Was that your first date?" Wanda pulled out a large crochet pumpkin poof and set it on the floor next to the sofa.

"Not even close," Steve laughed. Wanda's brows furrowed, and he clarified, "For a while, I went along on double dates with him because he didn't know I was gay, and -- as it turned out -- Bucky was trying to figure out his own sexuality. I feel bad for all the girls who had to put up with us."

"So," Wanda ran her hands along the back to the sofa, "How did you get together?"

"Well," Steve started draping a purple garland with metallic black bats along the fireplace hooks.  " Once I finally did tell Bucky that I was gay, he didn't think I liked him that way since I hadn't made a move, and so he asked some friends to be our dates. Only, I didn't know that it wasn't a real double date. And a whole bunch of stuff went wrong because of my date, and it's just this big, long story."

Wanda nodded, smiling down at the colorful afghan, "Sounds like it."

Busying himself with putting the decorative table piece on the dining room table, Steve focused on the faux pumpkins and faux autumn foliage as he questioned, "What about you and Vis?"

"We met through Pietro," Wanda softly answered, "They were in juvie together."

Steve tried not to show his surprise, so he fixed the candles. Not knowing what to say, he lamely assumed, "So, they were friends."

"Yeah," Wanda sniffled. Steve's eyes instantly snapped to the teen to make sure that she was okay. Which she very evidently wasn't as she was sat on the couch, holding a metallic silver pillow in one hand and covering her mouth with the other as she silently sobbed.

Immediately, Steve crossed the room to her. Sitting down beside her, he guided her into him, allowing her to cry into him while he soothingly rubbed her back. Softly, Steve comforted, "Shh, it's okay. You're okay."

"I just miss him so much," Wanda sobbed.

"I know," Steve assured, smoothing her hair. And Steve did know. Maybe not what it was like to lose a sibling, but he knew what it was like to lose a loved one. He had been eleven when his dad, Joseph, passed, and there wasn't a day that went by where he didn't wish he was there. Especially once Steve became a father himself, he deeply mourned all over again because his own father wasn't there to guide him, and Steve knew that Joseph would've been one of the best grandfathers that anyone could ever ask for.

Steve could feel his t-shirt getting wet from her tears, but he didn't care. He kept his arms wrapped around her and let her cry. When she eventually calmed down, she pulled back and sheepishly tucked her hair behind her ear, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Steve sincerely replied, holding the tissue box out to her.

Gratefully, she took one and blew her nose. As she crumpled it in her hand, she said, "Vis isn't a bad guy. He's had a hard life, and... And he's trying to leave, ya know? Leave the Murder Bots, it's just... It's just that his brother..."

After taking in a shaking breath as the tears started up again, Wanda continued, "Ultron doesn't want Vis to leave. He thinks that I'm making him."

Steve's jaw clenched, "His brother did that to you. The bruises."

For a moment, Wanda just cried. She cautiously watched Steve and he reassured, "Sweetie, you can tell me. You don't have to ever hide anything from me or Bucky. We have your best interest in mind. We don't want you or the baby or Vis to get hurt."

"I just --" Wanda hiccupped. Taking in a few measured breaths while she rubbed at her abdomen, she said, "I just don't want Vis to go back to them, to him. He's trying, he really is. But… with his record, not many people want to hire him, and since Ully practically raised him…"

Giving her hand a squeeze, Steve promised, "I'll help however I can."

[queenkrissy11-fandomaccount]

Skeletons in the Closet-Two

Biker!Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Wealthy!Good Girl!Reader High School Au

Warnings-Swearing, sandals, attempted kidnapping, kidnapping, cheating, smoking, drinking, alcoholics, drug addicts, bullying, illegitimate children, abuse, and violence

With all the money the Mitchel’s have, many assume their lives are as picture perfect as they seem. Behind the glamorous vacations, luxurious mansion, and success that everyone sees, their lives are far from it. The only heir to the fortune, their perfect daughter Y/N, faces the worst of it. Beneath her perfectly curled hair and her flawless grades, is a closet full of skeletons just waiting to get out.  

Their next door neighbor, Steven Grant Rogers, is far from your typical boy next door. He wore a leather jacket rather than button ups, sweat shirts, and tees like the boys in the movies. He opted for a smirk rather than a sweet smile. And to top it all off he chose a motorcycle over whatever you’d picture a cute boy in. But then again, Steve Rogers wasn’t cute, he was irresistible. 

Atleast to most girls. Y/N refuses to give into the boy that likes to cloud her thoughts. The last thing she needs is a biker added to the list of things to keep from the media. A lot is expected from the heiress, and at the top of the list, right under taking over the empire, is having the perfect image. A hot, dirty biker is the last thing her image needs. However, her needs differ greatly from those of her image. And compared to everything else she keeps hidden, the media wouldn’t give Steve a second thought. 

Besides being private and attended by the offspring of the wealthy, your high school was much like any other. Maybe it was all a bit nicer, but it still had many of the same problems. Your gym and locker always had a smell, regardless of how recently it was all redone or how often it was clean. For example, yours had been redone again last year and is cleaned daily, but still smells like dirty socks and sweat. There are cliques, not quite as extreme as many movies show them to be, but everyone has a group. You have yours, which primarily consists of those that actually give a shit about earning the future set out before them. You were all 4.0 students with a company or brand just waiting for you to reach a certain age. And lastly, your school still had bullies. Your eyes flick to where the cheerleaders were sitting, specifically Jackie Erickson. She gets her kicks from tormenting you, primarily because there is nothing you could do about it. As if she could hear your thoughts, she shoots a glance your way, still hanging all over the jock in her lap. Trevor Andrews. He was on the football team and that's where your knowledge of him ended. He and Jackie had been inseparable for the last week or so, which meant his time is about up. She never keeps them around for long. 

You look away, trying to avoid any of Jackie’s attention but in the process turn to meet another set of eyes. These ones are crystal blue and even more stunning up close. Steve Rogers had his own group. Everyone knew their names. Bucky Barnes is his best friend and never far when there’s trouble. Everyone knows Sam Wilson, he’s friendly with a smart mouth that either gets him out of trouble into it, figuring out which is like flipping a coin. A good portion of the school is afraid of Natasha Romanova. She’s known to be a bit ruthless and has been arrested more than a few times but her dad is a big shot lawyer that manages to get her out of the trouble she’s always in. She’s practically in Bucky’s lap which leads you to believe they’re dating again. They’re one of those couples that are in an endless cycle of on again and off again. You and Nat were best friends in elementary school but faded apart as you grew and became such different people. You’re ready to continue scanning their group when a voice is cleared next to you. 

“You’re staring,” Wanda chuckles. Wanda has been by your side all through high school. Your fathers are business associates which means the two of you will still be working together as adults when you take over. Wanda’s situation was a bit different because she and her twin brother, Pietro, are both set to inherit Maximoff Incorporated.They would be partners in everything which is beyond frustration for Wanda. Her brother isn’t as driven or focused on their future. In fact, he was probably behind the school with his friends at the very moment smoking. He’s befriended a handful of potheads and they aren’t very good at hiding it, even at school. You didn’t have anything against them, more the fact that they’re throwing away everything they have. Half of this lifestyle is the image others see. 

Yours, for example, is very put together. Your hair is always in soft curls, typically pinned back around your temples, and you keep a simple but shimmery makeup look. It was a bit of a hassle but your mother insisted on creating your own brand. She also makes sure your clothing sticks with it. Everything you own is neutral and soft. Colors primarily white, cream, light pink, and occasionally a light gray. You were allowed jeans as long as they were a light wash or a dark wash, no in between and definitely no holes. 

“I need to run to my locker,” You stand quickly and smooth down your skirt, “See you at lunch?’ Wanda nods and you’re off. The day had barely started and you were already to be alone on your balcony underneath the stars. 

You find your locker, quickly turning the combination. As you’re opening it, a hand above you presses it closed. You turn to find your body enclosed by Steve Roger’s. His black leather jacket back and hanging open to reveal his whit tee, sunglasses hanging from the neckline. 

“Hey, doll,” He whispers, “I couldn’t find you after our little exchange Friday.”

“I left,” You say through your clenched teeth, trying not to think about how amazing he smells. Or how gorgeous he is this close. 

His smirk grows, “You know I would have been more than happy to give you a ride.” You glare back but have to crane your neck a bit due to his height. “On my bike.”

“Maybe next time,” You bite out, pushing him back and reopening your locker to get your binder and a pen. This time when you turn around, Steve is gone. 

“Having fun with biker boy, are we?” You hear Jackie’s voice and flinch a little. She steps in front of you, “How would that make daddy feel?” She pauses, expecting a response. She won’t get one. You stopped responding years ago, sick of giving her the satisfaction. She twirls a black strand of her hair, “Tell him hi for me.” With that she struts down the hallway and you roll your eyes at her antics. 

Too long later, you’re finally home and out of that hellhole. Changing into some silk shorts and a matching tank, you put on your thin robe and step out onto your balcony with a book. You’d finished the homework for the week ahead of you and now had some you time. You have a lounger off to one side which has been your designated reading spot for years now.

In no time, you’ve dozed off, your book spread across your chest, until the sound of something hits the ground next to you. You’re instantly awake but manage to keep your eyes shut, slowly cracking them to see what was happening. Someone had just jumped over your balcony. 

Tags-

@ncrediblelove

@meganlikesfandoms

[jpat82]

Nameless

Chapter 7

     Drip.. drip.. drip.

     It seemed like ages had passed since the creature had left you, the stench still filled the cave. The slow throbbing in your head wouldn't go away, the rolling nausea was ever present, and your shoulders were beginning to ache from being pulled back for so long.

    You kept testing the chains trying to pull them apart but you couldn't gain any leverage. Anger fueled you, you had tried more then once to stand but found your arms had not only been looped multiple times but also shackled to the rock wall behind you. You needed to get home, needed to protect your family, and hell or high water that bastard wouldn't lay a single hair on any of their heads if you had anything to do with it, especially Luca.

———

    "What is it Bucky?" Steve asked, wincing as he stood to his full height looking in the same direction that his friend did. The corner of Bucky's mouth pulled up as the dust cloud continued to get bigger and the figure dead center became larger.

     "My Silver lining." Bucky smirked, Steve watched as figure really began to take shape. It was a man, running faster then any other man he had ever seen, except one. His hair, dark at the root faded to silver, whipped lightly around the back of his back from the speed he was going. Steve's eyes widen, realizing who it was.

     "Great, another vampire." Loki muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

     "Pietro." Bucky stated as the man slowed down to a leisurely walk.

     "Hey Buck." He replied taking Bucky's out stretched hand. "Steve. So good news and bad news."

     "Let me guess, you remembered that you have purpose in your bleak existence and you forgot to put antiperspirant on?" Loki jabbed as he walked around looking at foot prints in attempt to find which way the offending beasts had went.

     Pietro shot the wolf a look, his teeth started to descend. His pale eyes slowly turned red, every muscle tightened.

    "Loki, if you must make comments please keep them to yourself." Bucky snapped, the wolf rolled his eyes again and let out a dramatic sigh.

    "As I was about to tell you, you sent me to find out if there were any other hunters. Good news is there is none in any of the surrounding towns or the ones over." Pietro relayed, his light accent catching on some of the words. "However a lot of the towns have turned into.. hang on, what happened here?"

     "Oh, just the wolves decided to lay out an entire building." Steve told him as he pulled up his shirt, the wound had healed leaving a small red scratch behind.

     "Oh, I do believe you help." Loki snarled, Thor ignoring everyone as he kept his nose to the ground, his coat catching the beginning rays of moonlight shining lightly.

     "I wasn't the one that went through the supporting wall of the building." Steve shot back.

     "No, you threw one of the stench filled vile creatures into a support beam taking down the second level." Loki retorted, his eyes taking on an emerald color as he squared up to the man.

     "Enough!" Bucky commanded.

      "That wasn't what I meant. This town was thriving when I came through here months back. Filled with people and children playing in the street, now it's a ghost town like the rest." Pietro explained walking between Steve and Loki, ignoring the angered looks between them.

      "I've got them!" Thor snarled, his head snapping up, looking off towards the plains before him.

     "Good, find y/n and decimate them!" Bucky all but snarled, anger filled his voice.

     Loki grinned at Steve as his bones and muscle began to move, shifting before the vampire to the wolf he was. Eyes bright green locking onto Steve's red before turning and sprinting to his brother. Steve's lips curled up in disgust, Loki knew how much Steve hated seeing the transformation.

     "Bucky, is it possible? This stench, Wanda and I encounter it before, long before we met you. I thought they were gone." Pietro said, worrying undertones came through in his voice.

    "I'm afraid it is." Bucky replied, as he started to walk in the direction the wolves had taken. "Pietro, follow the wolves."

    "What is it then?" Steve asked, following, watching as the man rushed out.

     Bucky took a deep breath, not really wanting to say what they were out loud. He watched as Pietro caught up to the wolves passing them with ease.

     "What can't you keep up?" He heard the silver haired vampire call out. No doubt Loki thinking about ripping him to pieces.

——

     "Wanda, what's the matter?" Clint asked as he held Luca for moment after readying himself to go with the others to find Bucky like he had asked of them.

     "I just have this really bad feeling, like death." She replied, staring out the windows that looked over the forest. The moonlight turning the leaves silver, everything looking calm and serene out there but she couldn't shake this feeling.

     "Oh, don't curse me now." Clint laughed lightly as he handed her back the child.

     "Clint, you and the others be careful." She told him with earnest, she looked back at her family.

    Each one ready, for what battle they didn't know but the fact y/n and Steve had missing for two nights and Bucky and the wolves had yet to return meant there would be a battle. Vision walked over to her and kissed her forehead gently, he smiled down at her. Usually he had a calming effect on her but tonight it made the uneasiness in her stomach worse.

      "We'll be back soon, I promise." He told her.

      "Vis." She sighed as he stepped away and walked back to the rest.

     The family left without another word, taking off into the night. She knew they would be able to catch up Bucky and the rest fairly easily as Bucky would of left a trail for them to find. It wasn't that she was worried they wouldn't be able to find a place to hunker down before daylight hit. No, it was the sense of pure dread.

    She could felt the tightening in her chest, one she hadn't felt in years.

    Shadows, wraiths, pure evil. Ones that killed adult humans for fun if they didn't find them useful, they stole children, brainwashed them so they could turn them into more of their kind. Wanda held Luca a bit tighter as his finger curled around her auburn hair.

——-

     You screamed at the top of your lungs as you pulled as hard you could against the chains feeling the small bones in your hands begin to snap and dislocate. The chains slowly, centimeter by centimeter began to slide down your injured hands. Tears trickled down your cheeks as the pain began to become almost unbearable but you didn't relent. You kept pulling your body forward, away from the chains that were tethered to the wall of the cave.

     You heard the metal of the last loop ring against the floor as the last chain slid down and you brought your arms in front of your body and pulled you broken hands to your chest. It would take them a bit but they heal.

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[scarlet--wiccan]

do you know if there's a reason pietro has white hair? i've seen people say he's albino but is that based in canon? more recently he's been drawn with darker skin (like in the new SW comic/no surrender) which doesn't line up with that. before looking into it i always assumed it was just some kind of mutant thing, especially since later tommy has his powers + white hair. any thoughts?

It's meant to interpreted as his "mutation," and, to my recollection, there's never been any real evidence otherwise.

I don't know for sure if it was originally intended that way-- none of the other mutants in 1964 had special hair or skin colors, and that didn't really become a thing until the Bronze Age. It's never been attributed to anything else, though, and I think Tommy's introduction solidified it as part of their super-speed "mutation." Young Avengers and Children's Crusade put so much emphasis on the younger twins having identical powers and appearances to the Maximoffs, that I feel this is the only way to interpret it.

There's been a lot of back and forth in the fandom about Pietro's hair, Tommy's hair, and even Magneto's hair being similar, and what that's supposed to mean. The problem is that most of these people are citing Uncanny Origins: Quicksilver (1996) and Avengers Origins: Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver (2011). These are both retellings of Wanda and Pietro's backstory, and like most special origin-story issues, they both contradict canon, even for the time at which they were written. The 2011 one is worse, in terms of continuity, but the 1996 is particularly egregious to me in the way that it depicts the Romani community Wanda and Pietro grew up in.

In this comic, the narration states that Pietro, unlike his "darker sister," has a harder time being accepted by Romani people due to his fair hair and light skin. Keep in mind, Wanda and Pietro are drawn with the same fair skin tone on the actual page.

I don't believe this difference has ever been mentioned anywhere else, and considering all of the inaccuracies and inauthentic depictions going on here, I just don't think readers should put any stock in what this comic has to say about Pietro's appearance, intracommunity issues, or the way Romani people are racialized in Europe.

Now, Wanda and Pietro aren't identical twins, and they've always been presented as mixed-race. It's entirely possible for them to look different, or have different skin tones, and there is something to be said about diversity in the diaspora and the different experiences people might have based on proximity to whiteness. Adoption from outside the community is also a complicated subject-- depending on which version of canon you're working with, Marya and Django might not have known who the twins' birth mother was, and may have assumed that the children were from a gadje family.

These are really sensitive topics, though, and I just don't think that non-Romani writers or fans should be tackling them-- nor do I believe that it's helpful or constructive right now, when we've advocating for so long for more inclusive, authentic portrayals of Romani people of color. That's just a personal opinion! And yes, having a visible mutation would have affected Pietro growing up, but you can talk about that without litigating his racial identity or presentation.

Also, this is important to note, albinism is a lot more complicated than most people-- at least, people who don't have it-- tend to realize. It impacts more than just your appearance, and it's statistically unlikely for somebody to have stark-white hair without other affected features or complications. The people on comic book twitter aren't really talking about that, though-- they're mostly just aestheticizing the condition and using it as an excuse to draw Pietro like a white guy.

[diinofayce]

Who You Selling For? 3

Pairing: Bodyguard! Steve Rogers x OFC!Musician! Addison Schmidt x Bodyguard! Bucky Barnes | Word Count: 4.3k | Warnings: 18+ due to excessive drug and alcohol use, angst, barely edited | 

FACTORY GIRL

Addison had made a comment about getting a shower in and parted from Steve and Bucky to get settled. Steve stood in the middle of their shared room looking a bit lost. It had the same large windows that all the rooms in this damn house did, its colors mostly stark white with muted grays and pops of bright orange; Steve made a mental note to see if he could find blue blankets to trade out because he knew that Bucky would like those better. The large king sized bed was positioned in the middle of the wall against the hallway so that you could look outside and Steve instantly knew that they would need to rearrange the furniture so Bucky could see every entrance. He already figured if they pushed it into an angle at the corner of the room that should give him view of the doorway out to the house, the bathroom, the closet, and the windows. While Steve was playing mental interior designer, Bucky bustled around him in a panic about this supposed house party the band was throwing. He was on the phone with Tony requesting more security after trying to get Stark to shut down the party had failed.

Steve snapped back to himself when Bucky let out a growl and tossed his phone on the bed. Crossing to his boyfriend in two long strides he tried to gently take Bucky’s waist in his hands but Bucky set his hands on Steve’s forearms to halt his advance.

“Buck,” Steve sighed sounding gutted.

“Stevie, we can’t. I can’t. We have a job to do and the girl is making it obscenely hard. What a stupid fucking move, a fucking house party. This is supposed to be a secure and secret location and now it’s going to have photos on every social media site, fans will be talking about it, fuck Hydra could send their inside men in themselves,” Bucky argued, his chest heaving and breathing heavy from all the different thoughts racing through his mind.

“Is that what you would have done?” Steve asked sharper than he meant, stepping away from Bucky to sit on the edge of the bed.

Bucky tore the hair tie from his chocolate locks and tangled his fingers in his hair so he could tug sharply at his scalp. “Yes, Steve. It’s exactly what I would have done. She’ll be drunk, she’ll be high, she’ll be easily accessible thanks to all the people. This would have been ideal, she makes it so fucking easy for the bad guys.”

Steve looked up at Bucky, staring him down with his intense ocean gaze. “That’s what we’re here for, Bucky. Tony put us on her because we’re the best he has, but we can’t work together if you just keep pushing me away.”

Bucky turned his icy orbs to Steve’s and sighed. Steve was right, he was always right, but he could never see when Bucky was shit pants terrified. And maybe that was his fault, he pushed and threw up walls and he knew it wasn’t fair to anyone including himself. So much could go wrong here, not only could Addison be killed, but so could Steve. Bucky didn’t know what he would do without Steve in his life. Bucky was also terrified of Pierce sinking his claws into him again. While Steve had gone to college after high school Bucky had gone into the service and when he came back from his tour he was already a broken man. Pierce was the first person to actively give him a job and Bucky, in his shambled state, was ready to do whatever Pierce asked of him because that’s all Bucky knew how to do after deployment.

Bucky walked over to Steve who spread his legs so Bucky could settle between them. He cupped Steve’s face in his hands and tenderly swiped his thumbs over his cheeks, leaning down Bucky kissed Steve softly in the middle of his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered against his skin.

Steve reached up and hooked his hands into the crook of Bucky’s elbows, pulling the man’s lips down to his own. Steve kissed Bucky softly hoping to convey all the reassurance and love that he possibly could into that kiss. Bucky hummed in content and smiled softly against Steve’s lips.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Bucky,” Steve reassured him when they separated. “I understand your fears, you can’t hide anything from me. We have to be a team, okay?”

“’Til the end of the line.”

“’Til the end of the line.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s waist and laid back pulling the brunette down on top of him, smirking at the soft little squeak that left the brunette’s lips. They had ten minutes that they could selfish before everything went crazy.

~*~

The party was in full swing, the music was thumping over the speakers that were wired throughout the house, the alcohol was flowing, people seemed to be having quite a good time whether it was dancing or joking around by the pool or doing drugs in some shady corner of the expansive yard. Addison and Wanda, Addison’s guitarist and childhood best friend, sat in the backyard in lounge chairs sipping beer and keeping a subtle watch on the goings on. Addison could feel the hard gaze of either Bucky or Steve at any given time and it made her skin itch. She knew Steve was up on the balcony, watching the whole backyard, but mostly her and that Bucky was weaving his way through the house taking careful assessments of every person he passed. There were two other guards that they had Tony send over, some weird loud guy with long golden hair that was hanging out with Sam and Pietro and keeping an eye on them and then there was the man with the dirty blonde hair who looked like he had zero patience for any of the shit that was happening around him. The last Addison saw of him, he was working the front door.

Wanda was lazily braiding Addison’s long blonde hair, a softly smoking cigarette dangling from lips practically forgotten in her concentration.

“I thought you told your uncle you didn’t want security,” Wanda murmured around the filter and taking a deep suck to keep it lit when she realized it was still in her mouth. Two thin tendrils of smoke falling lazily from her nostrils on the exhale making her look like a dragon.

“Shows how much anyone listens to me,” Addison murmured, her lips brushing the lip of the beer bottle in her hand as she eyed a man in a black leather coat and a baseball hat pulled down over his eyes.

The man was surrounded by a handful of other party goers and Addison was watching the careful exchange of baggies and money. Addison let out a sharp whistle which had the group nearby looking up at her, it also regained Steve’s avid attention. She pointed to the man dealing and made a come hither motion with her finger, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. The man approached and raised his eyebrows at her expectantly. She watched Steve say something into the smartwatch on his wrist out of the corner of her eye, but chose to continue to pretend like their presence didn’t mean anything to her.

“What are you selling?” Addison asked.

“A bit of everything. What are you looking to buy?” the man responded flashing baggies of brightly colored pills, white powder, and some clear crystals.

Addison’s eyes roved his wares before flashing up at him. “A bit of everything,” she responded coyly, reaching into her bra and pulling out a wad of cash.

The man hummed in acknowledgment as he sorted out one of each kind of baggie. “You’re Addison Schmidt, right?” he asked suddenly, holding out the merchandise to her.

Addison held out two hundreds and snatched the bags from his hand. “Nope,” she accentuated with a pop of the p.

The man smirked and rolled his eyes, it was a rhetorical question but if she wanted to play this game it was fine with him. He was used these celebrity types. “Too bad, I hear she knows how to party. I would have given her a discount if I was promised more invites.”

Addison looked up at him sharply. “A girl like Addison Schmidt doesn’t need to go fishing for discounts. But if these are good I’ll pass on a positive word.”

She popped open one of the bags and tapped out six pink pills. She reached under her chair and came out with a little plastic tray with a razor blade on it. Addison eyed up the dealer in front of her for a second, assessing his worth, before pressing the flat side of the razor against the pills to crush them before flipping to the blade and chopping the pills into a fine powder and separated it into two thin lines. She snapped her finger at him while he babbled about his connections in the business and other drugs he knew how to get a hold of, he instantly passed her one of her twenties back which she rolled up into a little tube and huffed up one of the lines before passing the twenty and the tray to Wanda who followed suit. Wanda flicked the rolled up twenty back at the guy, both girls sniffling and rubbing their noses with the back of their hands.

“Well, ladies, they call me Doc and if you’re happy my number is on the bags. Don’t mix the long white pills with anything, especially alcohol,” he warned before rejoining the party. Wanda and Addison both waved him off while they rolled their eyes at each other. Dealers were a dime bag a dozen and they usually had no reason to go back to the same person, that’s how you got caught up when they inevitably got raided by the police. All drug dealers thought they were special, but at the end of the day if you have enough money any idiot could find any specific requests.

The man didn’t get too far into the house before he was grabbed roughly, the sound of a machine whirring as the fist tightened on his jacket lapels.

“What the fuck did you just sell her?” Bucky growled, slamming the man against the wall.

“Bro, lay the fuck off,” Doc barked trying to shove Bucky’s hands off of him, but Bucky’s grip wasn’t moving.

Bucky leaned in close and Doc flinched as the warmth of Bucky’s breath fanned over his face. “Tell me what you just sold to her,” Bucky demanded, his voice low and threatening.

From over Doc’s shoulders Bucky watched as Steve approached Addison and Wanda. Addison’s scowl from the man’s interruption was visible from all the way inside.

“A little bit of everything. Wellbutrin, Adderall, Butisol - which I warned her not to mix or drink if she was going to take it, some Molly and good ol’ fashioned coke. I had a bit of oxycontin - I had heard it’s one of her preferred, and I came across some Lithium last week. You can’t get high on Lithium, but no way she doesn’t have bi-polar or some shit which if you’re her hound dog - you’re welcome - I just made your job easier,” Doc rattled off and Bucky sorted through his mental knowledge of prescription drugs in his head.

“Why the fuck would you be handing out barbiturates at a place like this? You’re going to fucking kill someone,” Bucky snapped, lifting Doc away from the wall only to slam him back into it knocking the wind out of Doc’s lungs.

Doc coughed lightly, wheezing to get air back as he thumped Bucky’s metal shoulder. Doc’s brows furrowed in pain as he shook his bruised knuckles out. “Fuck, I just sell what’s popular. I told her to do them solo - if she mixes that’s her fault.”

“The pills she just took, what were those?”

“Wellbutrin, poor man’s cocaine. It doesn’t last nearly as long she’ll be back down in an hour or so,” Doc explained and sighed in relief when Bucky let him go.

“If I see you at another one of these parties, at any of her shows, if I see your stupid fucking face again - your own mother wont recognize you when you finally find your way home,” Bucky threatened and shoved him back into Clint who had been standing off to the side watching expressionless.

“Sure thing, man, but I gotta tell you not too many people are afraid of Pierce’s Winter Soldier anymore. Everyone knows you’ve gone soft,” Doc called back with a snarky laugh.

Bucky whirled around and Clint, reading Bucky’s intentions, held the dealer out as Bucky’s metal fist sunk deep into the soft flesh of Doc’s stomach. With a loud oof and loss of breath, Doc threw up on the floor between them. Bucky stepped back so as to not get any of the bile on his shoes.

Bucky leaned in close again to whisper in Doc’s ear. “If you’re running in that circle, you make sure Pierce knows I’ll kill everyone he fucking sends in my path and I’ll give him his little soldiers back in pieces.”

“Get him out of here. No need to be gentle,” Bucky commanded Clint with a sharp tilt of his jaw. Clint heaved Doc up and rushed him out the front door, easily pushing his way through the crowd.

Bucky sighed and ran his hands through his long dark hair as he looked around the house, side stepping the pile of vomit and making a note to see if someone can get it cleaned up. His eyes shot outside to where he last saw Addison, Wanda, and Steve and noticed they were no longer sitting out by the pool.

“Location check,” Bucky said into the microphone on his watch.

“Still taking out the trash,” Clint replied with a grunt.

“Kitchen,” Thor responded.

“Living room with the girls,” Steve’s voice came in sounding strained and stressed.

Bucky made his way through the crowd to the living room where the music was the loudest. He passed by the kitchen to check in on Thor who was hanging around Pietro, Wanda’s twin brother and the band’s drummer, and Sam Wilson, the bass player. Pietro was doing a line of something off the granite counter while Sam sat back on a barstool, aimlessly plucking his bass on his lap while flashing his brilliant white teeth at a pretty girl with black hair and legs for days. Thor watched Pietro reproachfully and cast a look at Bucky with a shrug. Rockstars, man, they always kept security on their toes. Certain that Thor had everything in the kitchen handled he continued to the living room where he almost choked on his tongue at the sight of Addison and Wanda up on the coffee table wearing nothing but their torn jeans and lacy bras as they danced to the loud music and the cheering of the crowd.

Steve stood off to the side, leaning against a wall, looking as if he wasn’t sure if he should intervene or not. His warm blue eyes found Bucky and he bit the corner of his mouth in uncertainty. Bucky crossed the room to him and sighed.

“We have to kill this party, there’s too many people. We can’t keep track of who’s coming in and out. That was the third drug dealer I’ve kicked out of this place and this one works with Pierce’s artists,” Bucky said into Steve’s ear over the music.

Steve nodded and looked around the crowd. “I have a bad feeling, Buck, the hairs on my neck are on end. Did you find out what the girls took?”

“Wellbutrin,” Bucky responded. “It makes me nervous mixing stimulants and depressants like that.” He continued, motioning to the bottle of Jack Daniels Addison had picked up along the way and was pouring into Wanda’s mouth.

“She wouldn’t give me the other bags of stuff, I figured I’d get them when she passes out. I’ve been watching to make sure she doesn’t take anything more,” Steve said as his eyes followed Addison’s movements.

The blond flowed with the music as lithe as a jungle cat and when she was offered a joint from someone in the crowd her face lit up with a brilliant smile. Both Steve and Bucky groaned in frustration as she placed the wrapped bundle in between her lips and took a deep inhale, before grabbing the back of Wanda’s neck and exhaling the smoke into the red head’s mouth. The crowd hollered and jeered and the sudden flashes of cameras had Steve and Bucky moving into action. Steve simply pocketed phones and cameras that he came across as he worked his way to the middle where the girls danced while Bucky crushed everything in his metal palm and handed the crumbled technology back to its original owner.

Steve made it to the stereo to cut the music while Bucky jumped up on the coffee table with the girls who were both glaring at him furiously. “Party’s over,” Bucky grunted grabbing the wrists of both girls and tugging them down.

“Bucky, no!” Addison protested, digging her heels into the carpet.

“Bucky, yes,” Bucky barked back before finally stooping down and lifting Addison up and tossing her over his shoulder. He looked at Wanda who just shrugged and curled her hair around her finger absentmindedly.

“I’m gonna find Piet,” she slurred and Bucky pushed her gently towards the kitchen and Thor.

Clint reappeared and Bucky jerked his head towards the living room. “Go help Steve get everyone out. Party is over,” Bucky commanded and Clint nodded, springing into action immediately.

Bucky took the stairs two at a time, ignoring Addison’s swearing and her alternating between trying to elbow him in the back of the head and her thumping her little fists on his broad back. He kicked open the door to her master suite and tossed her onto the bed where she bounced softly once and then fell back to stare up at the ceiling, her golden hair fanned out like a halo around her.

Bucky closed the door and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for some sort of response as Addison blinked slowly up at the spackle on the ceiling.

Addison sort of heaved a little once before looking at Bucky pitifully. “I’m going to be sick,” she said in the smallest voice that Bucky has heard from the obnoxious vocalist yet.

“And there it is,” Bucky sighed, knowing this was coming. Sliding one hand around her knees and the other behind her shoulders he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom where he sat her down in front of the toilet, lifting the lid and seat and grabbing a washcloth.

As Bucky turned on the water in the sink he winced as Addison heaved and everything she consumed in the evening went splashing into the toilet. Turning off the water he sat on the edge of the bathtub and pulled Addison’s hair back gently out of her face and off her neck.

“Atta girl, go on, let the demons out.” Bucky whispered as Addison heaved and threw up again.

“Location check.” Came Steve’s voice in his ear.

“Doing a sweep of the pool house and back yard,” Thor answered.

“Speaking with the police out front,” Clint answered causing Bucky to wince. He was really hoping that they would make it through the first night without local police involvement.

“Master bathroom with Addison,” Bucky answered softly into his smart watch as Addison threw up again.

He reached forward and wiped the thin sheen of sweat off of Addison’s forehead with the damp washcloth and she leaned into his hand, looking strung out and exhausted.

“Can you get me a bottle of water, please?” Addison whispered, looking up at Bucky with her silver eyes - the black from her mascara streaking down her cheeks with her tears.

Bucky swiped a few stray platinum hairs off of her damp face and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that for you.” Heaving himself off the edge of the bath tub with a groan he tossed the washcloth into the sink and quickly headed downstairs to the kitchen. He was pleased to see how quickly Steve and Clint managed to get everyone flushed out of the house and quieted down.

A burst of laughter came from the kitchen and Bucky rounded the corner to see everyone milling around the center kitchen island. Pietro had his arm around his twin sister’s waist as Wanda snored softly, her head resting on his shoulder. Sam was in the middle of telling the group an apparently funny story, everyone hanging on his every word. Bucky cast Steve a pointed look as he slipped behind Thor, clapping the man’s broad shoulders as he passed, to the fridge where he opened it in his hunt for a bottle of water.

Steve looked between Sam and Bucky for a moment before tearing himself away from the story to approach his boyfriend. Bucky frowned at Steve, the blond had already shed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt so that he could loosen the straps to his bullet proof vest. Bucky frowned and hummed softly in disapproval, something Steve caught immediately and had the decency to look slightly abashed.

“Having fun down here?” Bucky asked gruffly.

Steve looked at him a little confused for a moment and blinked a few times. “Uh, yeah, we’re just winding down a little before everyone goes off to bed. Kind of keeping an eye on Wanda. How’s Addison?”

Bucky hummed again and held up the water bottle. “Just grabbing her this. I’ll meet you upstairs when you’re done,” Bucky made to turn but Steve grabbed his elbow softly. “Not here.” Bucky said tersely casting his baby blues to Thor and Clint who were still engaged with Sam and Pietro. Steve sighed softly and let go of Bucky who immediately bolted out of the kitchen and back up to Addison’s room.

Pushing the bedroom door open, Bucky smiled softly to see that Addison had managed to get herself into a pair of sweat pants and into the bed on her own. He walked around the side of her bed and set the bottle of water down on her bedside table. He was just turning to leave for his and Steve’s room when he heard her turn over and turned back to make sure she was okay.

“Hey, Barney. Can you stay?” Addison whispered up to him. “At least for a minute?”

Bucky snorted and gave a little half smile before sitting down on the empty half of the bed. “Do you do that purpose or are you just honestly terrible with names?”

“I think the real question, Barnaby, is are you planning on killing me?” Addison mumbled against the crook of her elbow.

Bucky’s blood turned to ice in his veins and he looked down sharply at the half asleep girl laying next to him. “Why would you ask that?” he asked, his voice coming out broken and sharp.

Addison rolled over again and placed her head in his lap, her tangled golden locks fanning out across him. He raised his arms out of the way and looked at the closed door to the hall for minute wishing Steve was in here to deal with this. Steve was much better at the touchy feely crap than Bucky was.

“Come on, Bucky, I thought you read my files. You know that I was signed with Hydra while you were working for Pierce. I remember you. So are you one of his sleeper agents? Are you going to kill me now that I’m drunk and high and alone? Are you going to kill Steve too or just disappear?” Addison rambled, her words slurred and slammed together.

Bucky cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling, clenching and relaxing his jaw to match the quick pounding of his heart. He took a few steadying breaths and started to absentmindedly and gently unknot her hair across his lap. “I don’t do that anymore, kid.” Bucky said finally.

“It’d be okay if you killed me, no one would miss me. I’d feel bad for Steve, though, he’s a very obvious person and he very obviously likes you a lot. So you should just…be better…okay? Because it’s really easy to be a piece of shit and it’s really hard to learn how to not be.”

Bucky was startled by how observant and poignant her statement was, especially since he was pretty sure Addison hadn’t been sober since they met earlier in the day. He didn’t know how to answer her, which was perfect because after making her proclamation she immediately passed out snoring in his lap. Bucky gently put her back under the covers and tucked up around the pillows before standing and making his way out of her room. As he was closing the door behind him he saw Steve trudging slowly up the stairs.

Bucky smiled softly at Steve who was looking reproachfully at Bucky, like he wasn’t sure how to act with Bucky right now. Bucky reached his metal hand out to Steve and nodded his head down the hall. “Come on, babe, let’s go to bed.”

[whynotcallitvanda]

Rings, Roads and Reunions

Read on AO3 here

Wanda sat at the small, round table in the darkened corner of the brasserie, fingers wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. She enjoyed the steady clink of her rings against the ceramic. It's funny how she never tired of that noise, how even through everything, something so insignificant could make just a little bit happier. No one had ever asked her what sound best described her, the essence of Wanda, but if anyone had, she’d have said the continual tinkle of her hands around a mug of tea. 

Why did no one ask that question? It was a good one. Made you think.

Wanda stretched out her fingers, examining the rings on her left hand. It was really a miracle that she'd managed to hang onto them. Lucky they'd found where their personal effects were stored on the Raft—

Lucky.

Wanda blew out a breath and curled her hand up again, shifting on the unsteady wicker chair. She'd lingered here too long. She shouldn't even be in this city. It was far too crowded, too well patrolled, despite the tourists, and of course she knew zero French beyond the few phrases Vision had taught her late one night, before—

Before.

Wanda was on her feet before the thought fully crystallized, dropping a few euros on the table and weaving her way back to the street, ducking her head and shoving her hands in the pockets of her long sweater.

Paris had been fun, but it was time to go. . . after just one more stop.

~o0o~

Paris. City of lights. City of love. The last place Vision wanted to be. 

Or the exact place he did. 

It was complicated. 

Everything was complicated. 

Vision sighed, wandering through the cobblestone streets, looking over his shoulder despite his mostly-perfected human disguise. Since the split of the team, since Vision's world had fallen apart, he'd practically begged Mr. Stark to keep him busy, anything to stay out of the shell of the compound. 

Since then, he'd been travelling the world, doing whatever Mr. Stark required. Running errands, basically, and—

And keeping an eye out, hoping against hope that he'd catch a glimpse of scarlet, feel the brush of a familiar mind against his. 

But Paris was too much. 

~o0o~

“Also in that exhibition was Monet’s Boulevard des Capucines, which he painted in 1873,” Vision continued his mini-lecture, templing his fingers together, unable to stop himself from leaning forward towards her.

Wanda was sprawled on the couch across the coffee table from him, lying on her back, hair spilling over the cushions and down off the side. She stared up at the ceiling, but Vision didn't need to see her face to visualize that little quirk of her lips that meant she was both amused and confused by him. “Remind me how we got on the topic of the Impressionists?”

Vision considered. He knew the answer of course, that a conversation about a movie devolved into one about mental illness, and then about tortured artists, and then about art in general. But he'd learned that sometimes Wanda didn't want an actual answer to these kinds of inquiries, especially when they were accompanied by that smirk.

He must have taken too long to formulate a response, however, because Wanda chuckled and pulled herself upright, swinging her legs onto the floor and leaning forward to mimic his own position. 

She yawned and endeavored to continue the conversation even though it was clear she was sleepy. “So, where is Cappuccino Boulevard?”

“Le Boulevard des Capucines," Vision corrected gently, “is in Paris, France.”

Wanda brightened immediately, perking up enough for Vision to infer that she had good memories of the city.

“Have you been to Paris, Wanda?”

She deflated, the sparkle that had briefly shone in her eyes dimming. “No,” she admitted lowly, studying her fingers.

Vision's breath hitched. There was an odd pressure in his chest, and it had something to do with the sorrow on Wanda's beautiful face. She was always beautiful, even now, but Vision rarely allowed himself to dwell on it. 

As he processed his own strange emotional response—one that under any other circumstances he might have gotten Wanda to interpret for him—the room had fallen silent. He knew he should say something, distract her or ask if she wanted to talk about what was bothering her, but she saved him, again, from having to decide by offering up the information herself.

“It's a cliché, you know. For a little girl to love Paris.” She still wasn't looking at him, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the weight of her gaze in his current emotionally-jumbled state. “At some point nearly every girl wants to go, be swept off her feet, something romantic.” Wanda shrugged off her words like they didn't matter, but the shake in her breath would have betrayed the truth even if Vision hadn't known her better than anyone. Anyone living, at least.

“I always wanted to go,” she continued. “Read all about it. I was a bit of a hopeless romantic, I guess.” She finally met his eyes. “But we didn't have the money before—and then after my parents—Well, there was no way it would have happened. It was the first thing Pietro and I were going to do after we got revenge on Stark.” Her lips twitched again, this time into a wry smirk. “Pietro always thought the romance was silly—it’s just a city, after all—but it represented something more, you know? Finally getting to have dreams again.”

She shook her head, taking a breath and blinking rapidly. “Sorry, Vizh. Didn't mean to—”

“No need to apologize,” Vision interrupted, wincing internally at his rudeness, but Wanda just smiled. “Perhaps—” Vision started, but broke off, suddenly unsure.

“Yes?” Wanda prompted, reaching across the coffee table to brush his hand with her fingertips. 

“Perhaps we could visit together someday?” Vision offered, meeting her eyes. “If you want. Of course, I understand if that would be too painful or—”

“I'd like that, Vizh.” Wanda nodded, smiling encouragingly. “Really, I would.”

They shared a grateful silence, taking a moment to simply be, a small part of each of them wishing that nothing would ever change. 

~o0o~

Vision forced himself from the memory, glancing up at the blue street sign on the building above his head. Boulevard des Capucines. That night he’d taught her some simple French phrases, but the subject of a trip to Paris never came up again. In all likelihood, she never expected to accompany him here, and was only being polite, considering his feelings even after such a painful admission on her part.

But Paris was irrevocably linked to Wanda in his mind, and being here irritated the edges of that hole he’d felt growing in his chest since she’d forced him through the floor of the compound. It was like he could feel her here on the streets, which was of course ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to stop the nagging presence.

He shook himself, probably harder than necessary, and continued walking. He needed to finish his errand and get out of the city.

Vision barely made it a block before his sense of Wanda was so strong that he couldn’t continue. He spun wildly, no longer in control of his actions. The Mindstone was burning. Something was happening. He knew she couldn’t be here, knew better than to hope, and yet the pain burning behind his eyes made it too hard to reason. He reached for her blindly. His vision was blurring and ears were ringing. He was tricking himself, he knew it, and yet—

Vision?

Vision stumbled against a small tree, succumbing to the urge to close his eyes and clutch his forehead. It took everything in his power to maintain his disguise, took everything in him to keep from dropping all pretenses and rushing mindlessly towards wherever she was.

“Wanda?” he breathed her name, forcing his eyes open once more.

~o0o~

Wanda knew she should leave. Knew that just because she’d taken a train through Paris on her way to Scotland didn’t mean she had to stop and visit—but, of course, it did.

Natasha would be furious.

Wanda didn’t care. Like her rings, this wasn’t something she’d give up. You could take her name, her hair color, the ability to ever completely relax, but you couldn’t take her. She wouldn’t let it happen.

She needed to see it, to see Paris after all these years, and she needed to see that road, too, the one from Vision’s painting. Even if she still wasn’t sure how to pronounce it and had no earthly clue what the painting looked like. Even if she thought she’d be going with her best friend, instead of completely and utterly alone.

It didn’t matter.

She had to see it.

At first glance, it was just a big street. A pretty, big street. Well shaded. Very Paris looking. Wanda would’ve been underwhelmed, if she’d let herself. But this was Paris, and she was actually here where she’d dreamed about for so long, and nothing was going to keep her from enjoying the moment. A smile came to her lips, the first in a while. People moved around her, but Wanda didn’t care, standing still even if it made her more conspicuous, drinking it in.

Paris.

If only—

Pietro.

Vision.

The names came to her mind one right after the other, surprising her with their intensity. The ache for each was vastly different, but equally strong.

She hadn’t thought that she could ever get as close to anyone as she’d been to Pietro—and she hadn’t, not yet—but she could see herself that close to Vision, in time, if only—

Wanda usually never let herself think of Vision, but she did now, because why the hell not? She was in Paris without him, and she missed him, and it was silly not to let herself feel, just this once.

Her mind cast out for him, an automatic reflex that came from the image of his face, the sound of his voice, of the surprised laughs that only she was able to conjure form his beautiful vermillion lips.

Wanda sighed, about to turn away, when her powers caught on something, snagged on a mind and grabbed hold. She turned, powers pulling her eyes to a tall blond man a ways up the street.

It couldn’t be, and yet—

Vision?

The man—Vision, it had to be, her powers had never been this wrong—stumbled, supporting himself on a tree.

Wanda was moving on reflex again, not considering anything, not the cars barreling down the road she had to cross to get to him, not her fugitive status, or the fact that the man looked decidedly unlike Vision. It didn’t matter.

Until it did.

She stopped a foot from him, the nagging voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded a lot like Natasha, reminding her of all the reasons this was a bad idea. She rocked back on her heels, breathing heavy. He was close enough to touch, but still hadn’t noticed her. She could—

No. She wouldn’t run. That had been pain she’d felt from his mind, and she wouldn’t leave him.

He opened his eyes.

“Vizh,” Wanda whispered. His eyes—so blue, unlike anything she’d ever seen. Her Vision.

His irises whirled for a second, that part of his appearance apparently unchanged, and then he cleared his throat. “Uh. Well. I guess we made it to Paris after all.”

Wanda laughed, and fell forward to wrap her arms around his neck.

~o0o~

[avesagittarius]

lost mal-evolence // 7

WORD COUNT // 2011

summary ! The youngest of the Maximoff siblings had lived through heartbreak twice now. First her parent’s death and then her older sibling’s abandonment. She did not know what she had done wrong, only that she searched for them for 3 years before HYDRA recruited her. She joined them when she learnt Pietro and Wanda had came here after leaving her. Now 6 years after their departure, she was in the process of becoming HYDRA’s best asset ever.

an ! heyyyy i promised it tonight soo here it is !!! sorry it’s not the most interesting chapter but it felt necessary to me. PLEASE SEND FEEDBACK ITS ALWAYS NICE 

part one    part dos      part tres      part quatro      part cinco      part seis

A few hours had passed, the Avengers were now flying over Russia and headed directly for the Siberian Compound. The fight hadn’t even started, yet they all seemed exhausted.

In fact, they knew this wouldn’t go down easy, they would go home injured and there was a possibility one of them could end up dead. Because if this wasn’t a mission like the others, it just made the risk greater.

It was a rescue mission. Only a few of the members had already been on one.

Sure, they knew how to fight, how to take down an enemy, how to deal with the deaths of civilians but it was never easy. It took a great deal of courage to know what to do in such difficult situations like battles.

But here, they were risking more than the deaths of a few men. They knew they didn’t have a choice but to succeed, this mission had to be a victory.

If they failed, that either meant Hydra would have spotted them and it ended up in a blood bath or that the girl wasn’t there, or dead, or didn’t want to come back to New York with them.

Either way they knew it was a risky situation as they couldn’t be seen by Hydra’s agents. In fact, if they were located it would most probably lead to a war between the two associations. Something they did not want.

The atmosphere inside the quinjet was tense, and dreadful.

Pietro and Wanda hadn’t said a word since the take off and it worried Steve. He was worried they weren’t going to follow his instructions and made the whole plan blow up.

To say the situation was delicate for the Maximoffs was an understatement.

First, they learnt that their little sister is in fact alive, then that she is undergoing the same torture they had been put through when they couldn’t see past their blind anger for Tony Stark.

Now they were walking, well more like flying, straight back into the trap they had fallen into many years ago to try and save their precious Amalya.

But everything was different now.

They were on Tony’s side, they had powers and a team to support them but most of all, they didn’t know what the hell they could expect from this family reunion.

Pietro looked at his sister when he felt her stare from the other side of the jet. Knowing she was in his head right now he shook his head to tell her to get out.

She sent him a knowing look saying, ‘stop feeling guilty’, he knew what her eyes were telling him because they knew each other so well.

After all, they had grown up together and they were twins. That thought made him loath himself even more because he knew that when he was going to see his baby sister. He wouldn’t recognize her, he wouldn’t know what to do or what to say that could make up for their absence.

Seeing as everyone seemed lost in thought, Steve got up from his seat and spoke up in a strong voice like the leader he was.

“Everyone remembers the plan, right ?”

Sam rolled his eyes and Natasha said what everyone was thinking at that moment.

“Rogers we’ve went over this plan at least fifty-six times now if anyone hasn’t understood yet I don’t know what the hell they are doing on this team” She sighed and Steve looked taken aback as he was ready to explain it once more.

Bruce interrupted them, speaking up from the head of the plane “And we are arriving”

Tony excitedly jumped from his seat and put his mask down, he was rather joyous considering the situation that they were in and what they were about to face.

“Alright, well kids, it’s time for Iron Man to fly out”

On his toes, Sam stood up and followed him but not before flashing the rest of team a smirk “See you guys”

And just like that, they jumped from the quinjet.

  Although everyone knew they had only been gone for 15 minutes and they were only going to see how many guards and stuff Hydra has displayed around the facility, Bucky couldn’t help but let his nerves get to him.

He kept running his hands through his brown locks, trying to get his shit together before they had to enter the building.

Bucky was trying so hard to keep his thoughts to himself, but he knew Wanda was probably aware of what was going on in his mind. As usual she was probably just worried but it unnerved him that someone could so easily tell what he was feeling.

Nonetheless, it didn’t surprise him when he felt a rather small hand on his shoulder. Wanda’s presence felt reassuring.

He knew she was way younger than he was but she still had that sort of motherly figure which made him strangely relax. He knew she was only trying to help him calm down.

Thing is, he didn’t really know why he was so nervous.

Wanda didn’t need to say a word, she didn’t want him so worked up over the smallest things.

Her long hair was held up in a ponytail and her red eyes were on full display as she was trying to help Bucky.

However, the calm tension in the space was brutally interrupted when Sam and Tony slammed their feet on the jet’s ground.

The loud clang of hitting metal shook most of the teammates of their dazes.

Immediately, Steve approached them.

“So?”

Sam was the first to speak. If he didn’t know how to feel about this mission before, he sure was even more confused now. What would happen now ?

“Nothing, I mean, nobody” He looked as if he was struggling to find the right words, leaving the Avengers in a oppressive suspense.

“Well what do you mean ?” Intervened Wanda who was now standing next to Captain America and desperately trying to understand the situation. Her eyes, which were back to their usual green color, were swirling with various emotions too difficult for Sam to interpret.

He knew that it was hard for the twins, but whatever their sister had gone through, he knew they probably weren’t ready to face her after so many years.

Seeing as Sam wasn’t responding, Tony took three steps and placed himself in the center of the jet. His serious look showed that things weren’t as good as he thought they would have been.

“What he means is that the thermic scan shows so few people I wonder if we’re even at the right, which I know we are because I help Bruce get us here.” He sighed and continued.

“Either they’ve taken her on a mission or something like the videos we’ve seen, or they have discovered that we’re onto them and moved somewhere else”

The tension was growing thicker by the second as every single Avenger was thinking about what could have led to such a bad start for a mission that was this important.

“But by few people what do you mean ?” Bucky couldn’t bear to think that they had waited so long before going saving the young girl and the only result they were getting was a failure.

Now it was Sam’s turn to advance more into the room. The eyes of the people moved onto him and he spoke.

“Simple, there are like twenty people in there, and they’re not guards”

“So who are they?” Pietro was getting impatient, he wanted to run and punch some Hydra agents all the while saving his sister not stand in this quinjet all day debating on who’s in there.

“We know they’re not guards cause it looked like they were in some kind of meeting room, they formed a circle. If there are any guards, there aren’t a lot of them”

Steve ran his hand down his face.

He thought they had everything planned and here they were, not even knowing how many people were in that damned building.

“Bruce put us down please”

“What?”

“Steve no!”

Before all hell broke loose in this jet, Steve shushed his colleagues.

“I know I told you all how important it was for us not to be seen but I fear we don’t have a choice here. If we want to understand the situation and act consequently then we have to go in there”

His strong voice seemed to resonate through the space and it didn’t hold the same despair his eyes were partly showing.

He knew his instructions were going right up against the ones he had kept on pronouncing these past few days, but if he was going to be the leader of the group in times of need, then he had to act upon that role.

Now wasn’t the time for him to show weakness or defeat, not when his teammates were just as lost as he was when it came to know what to do right now.

So, he took matters into his own hands and when the jet landed with a big thud in the snow, he stepped towards the opening gate and motivated the rest of his team.

  Since the ‘Civil War’ Tony was always doubtful when it came to letting Steve make all the decisions.

Of course, he didn’t make all of them.

Tony had the better ideas most of the time, who was he kidding.

But right now, he had to admit that he didn’t know what to himself. When Steve decided they had to go and see in order to understand, he wanted so badly to do as usual and defy his teammate, but surprisingly he had been at a loss of words.

He didn’t have any better plan in mind.

So here he was now, flying ahead of the rest of the team to try and get a better look at what was happening in that compound.

Suddenly a flash of silver flew right past him and almost made him lose his balance.

“Quicksilver, a heads up would have been nice” he grumbled into his suit.

Pietro just chuckled and pushed faster, sometimes he was glad he had those powers. Right now, for example, he would be the first to arrive.

Except when he did arrive, he stopped running all at once.

Like one millisecond he was at full speed and the next he stilled.

Leaving a mark in the snow where he skidded a few moments ago, Pietro was gaping at the scene in front of him.

Only when the others arrived, it’s safe to say that Pietro wasn’t the only on left completely speechless.

In front of them, laying in the white, cold duvet of the snow were at least 30 bodies.

Dead bodies.

If it weren’t for the dead men on the floor, the scenery would have been very majestic and beautiful. But it wasn’t.

Because the youngest Maximoff had walked through the doors of the compound and wreaked havoc on her way out.

The sound of the eerie silence was deafening, it was like the angel of death had stopped on Earth to let its chaos out.

Each Avenger could see them clearly. Their skin was now so pale it competed with the bright snow, their lips a blue so striking they would probably remember it forever, but most of all it wasn’t a bloody mess.

Everything was so clean, it looked untouched and pure.

It seemed unbelievable a 16-year-old could do that much damage by herself.

Slowly, carefully, they started walking towards the other side of the now deadly clearing, where the trees started to grow denser.

Slowly, almost so quietly as if they were scared Hydra’s agents would wake up in the following moments.

Tony spoke through the coms to the others.

It startled Pietro who accidentally stepped on a dead soldier’s foot.

“Based on Friday’s deduction skills, they were electrocuted through a 400 Volts electric power flow, in case anyone was still wondering, Mini Thor did cause this mess”

 TAGLIST : SEND ASK OR MSG IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

@susan-is-in-the-house @beforethebraces @mercutio-of-verona @vanessa-monique @tohollandback  @hallow-hazel @namastay-in-bed-2002 @nagynomi98  @scarletracoon

[whats-my-question]

You’re Not a Freak - Part 1

Summary: Fitting in the normal world with your powers has never been easy but when Happy calls asking where (y/n) and Peter are because of an incident, will your freak life fall apart?

Word count: 1,728

Pairings: peter parker x reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of being abandoned, angst, a touch of fluff

A/N: this is my first fanfiction and I'm glad it’s about peter. Let me know what you guys think! I’d love the feedback! I’m gonna make this a series so yeah hope you guys enjoy it :)

“What book are you reading now?” A tall girl with pulled back curly hair showing a forever changing streak of color sarcastically said while walking to your locker

“Hello to you to MJ.” You say letting out a chuckle as you close the book and start walking with her, “ Also its Z: a novel of Zelda Fitzgerald.”

“Of course it is! Why am I not surprised by that?”

“Oh shut up!” Both of you break out laughing, entering the loud and bustling cafeteria, you two walk to the food line then to the table, never breaking conversation about the book.

“Hey MJ! Hey (y/n)!” A dorky boy with a haircut that made you think of the 90s said smiling and waving while sitting next to who you knew to be his best friend. His friend looked up from his notebook making eye contact with you then gave a faint smile making your heart melt. Peter Parker was a die hard geek who wasn’t like all the others at Midtown. Besides the fact he's Queens’ very own Spider-Man, he’s so god damn attractive. Over the past few years you two have gotten close thanks to Tony taking him under his wing and all but feelings started to bloom for the brown eyed boy.

“‘Sup Ned? And fuck you Peter.” MJ sarcastically says letting out an evil laugh. You nudge her arm giving her a look, “What? Peter knows I’m joking!”

“Uhhh... D-Do I though?” Peter genuinely asking

“See, I told you...” Sticking my tongue out at her then glancing over at Peter who smiled graciously. “You might be friends but…” before you could finish, your phone started to ring and normally you’d leave it but when you saw Happy’s name, you knew it was important. “Umm... I gotta take this. I’ll be right back so don’t eat my tots.” Giving an all knowing look towards MJ’s direction while slipping far enough away where no one could hear you.

“Hey listen, are you at school? You haven’t ditched or anything right? Have you seen Peter? Is Peter at school too? And I don’t mean ‘yeah I saw him this morning but haven’t since’, I mean like you can see him right now or you have seen him in like... the past 10 minutes?” Happy questioned quickly, which surprised you.

“Happy, please calm down. Breath in and out. You know ever since Tony made you Peter’s babysitter a few years back, you’ve been more uptight?” you giggle before continuing, “Anyway… Yes I’m at school and so is Peter; we have lunch right now and before you called he was sitting in front of me. Is everything okay? Is everyone…” your breath started to become shallow thinking something had happened to Tony or Wanda or to any of them. As your thoughts lingered while your mind lead you to a point where you’re sure your heart stopped.

What if Steve... had… died.

You don’t know how or when you figured it out but you could control animals. Hell you can even communicate with them. You were like a Disney princess, a heavily fucked up one but that was still pretty dope to you. Once your powers came into play, it was at home then daycare then at school, there was always some kind of incident happening. You don’t remember when your biological parents left exactly but all you knew was they abandoned you. That’s something you still can’t could wrap your head around after all these years, how could they just dump a child in the middle of nowhere. Well, you knew why, you were a freak. You are a freak. But After some time of forging on your own, you were spotted and rescued by none other than Captain America Steve Rogers himself. He took care of you and gave you an unconventional yet stable home and family. Even though he couldn’t legally adopt you, that’s how your relationship felt. He was your father and you were his daughter; he has cared more about you than your real parents ever did.

With Steve came a bunch of great people you got the privilege of calling honorary aunts and uncles. Your life was finally coming together. But with pieces falling into place problems are bound to come up, ones you never realized were problems. The most important one, made itself known some time after you moved into Avengers Tower. Every night for the first year you were haunted by the memories. The memories of how much your parents loved you before they found out, memories of the accidents and injuries you never meant to cause, and most importantly the memories of being alone. They tore at you, making you bitter; not only did Steve notice but everyone else did too. What really effected you is that the Tony Stark, 'Mr. I only care about myself’, so you thought, noticed and helped you. They all did because they all felt bitterness towards something. Wanda had what happened to Pietro and the experiments they did on them. Steve had what happened to Bucky and not being able to live a life with Peggy. Tony with his relationship with his father and how he felt towards Bucky, even though he knows it wasn’t his fault. The list could go on and on. Everyday you remember what Tony told you, ‘Everyone has something that makes them resentful but the way it’s dealt with is what can make or break you.’ He also made you feel better by adding “And just because you're different doesn't make you a freak.”

After a few years of training, a few animal bites and a few broken bones, you finally learned how to regulate your powers for when you truly needed them. Okay, okay sometimes you’d use them when you were bored or lonely. Since you’ve had a hard time making friends, animals were always there for you. At first Tony was a hard ass with implementing the ‘no animals inside’ rule, which you broke the first day you moved in. Now a days its the ‘they make a mess, you clean it up’ rule, which you agree with and follow.

“(y/n)?” Happy questioned breaking you from your thoughts

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No, yeah, I did.” you lied hoping he’d say it again

“You need to stop hanging with Tony in his lab. You’re starting to lie just as much as he does.” He trails off making you laugh a little. “I need you and Peter to stick together and not lose sight of one another for the rest of the day. Then after school go wait in the library until I call you to pick you up, okay?”

“Got it… Anyway, you know I wasn’t listening to a word you said before so…will you ease my mind, is everyone okay?”  the lump in your throat growing again.

“Yes, everyone is okay (y/n). Please don’t worry too much okay?”

“Yeah… I’ll try not too…” 

The two of you said your goodbyes and you walked back to the table. Letting a little huff escape from your mouth as you sat down. Peter intently watching your every move but you hadn’t noticed as you were deep into thought. The uneasy feeling that was starting to fester its way into your body is something that you’ve never been able to shake no matter how hard you try and no matter how many missions have past. Happy said not to worry, everyone is okay; you have to believe that, he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t, right?

“Hey (y/n), is everything okay?” Peter could sense how tense you were and he, well anyone, could probably see it

“Oh… Um…Yeah…” obviously lying, “Well… Uhh… Hey do you wanna walk to our lockers together?” (y/n) barely getting the question out before making eye contact with Peter. She could see Ned out of the corner of her eye smirking and suddenly felt her face get heated as she started to squirm in her seat.

“I-I wou…” He started saying but got cut off

“We always do, so why are you askin’?” MJ turning her head looking at you quizzically

“Uh… Actually…” (y/n) began to reply before Ned spoke up

“Why don’t you and I walk together today? I mean we do have the same class right after lunch.” Looking at MJ waiting for a reply right when she was about to answer the bell rings

“Come on Ned, let’s go!” MJ laughs grabbing his arm while waving bye

You and Peter get up to throw away your trash and start heading to the lockers. Wondering how to bring up what Happy said without freaking Peter out or slipping into a panic attack yourself. All you know it has to be tactical since Peter will just bombard Happy with a thousand calls and texts; which is the last thing he needs right now.

“What’s going on (y/n)? Who was that on the phone?” Peter nervously touches your upper arm trying to get you to relax but his action does the complete opposite

By that touch alone made you forget every word that was going to come out. After a couple of seconds went by you were able to muster out what Happy told you.

“It was Happy… He asked if we were at school and haven’t left. Said he wants us to stay close to each other… Also after school, we are to go to the library and wait to get a text that he’s here to pick us up.” Tears starting to swell in your eyes, “Happy reassured that everyone is okay and not to worry but… Peter…” As soon as his name left your lips, he had engulfed you in a hug as the tears streamed down your face. Usually you’re not one to break down in public but knowing you both had study hall next made it easier to slip into Peter’s hug. Thankfully the halls were pretty empty from kids shuffling to their classes to take notice. You finally pulled away from the hug, wiped the tears from your cheeks, and started the walk to Ms. Warren’s room. All the while Peter had his arm around your shoulder. More things were falling into place and you hope it stays.

[thorne93]

Unusual Upbringing (Part 3)

Prompt: Imaging growing up with the Maximoffs and falling for Pietro

Word Count: 1686

Warning: language, poverty/despair/wartorn country, pain and violence (later)

Note: The events in this fic will take place before, during, and after Age of Ultron… Beta’d by my girl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Tags: @amarvelouswritings @cocosierra94 @essie1876  @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejulesworld @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis  @thefridgeismybestie  @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens

Unusual Upbringing: @ultrarebelheart @feelmyroarrrr @punkdoor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been so nervous for that first date. You weren’t sure why. You all lived together, so it’s not like he didn’t know you or that you were strangers. But this was obviously different. You’d had lunch and dinner before, just the two of you...But this wasn’t just a casual meal, was it?

Wanda helped you with your outfit and hair, as you fussed and fretted over every detail. Pietro had seen you in your PJs and down to grungy pants and shirts, but you were trying to impress him. You’d only been on a couple of dates before but this was so different.

“I look like a clown,” you moaned as you looked in the mirror.

“No, you don’t, now stop moving, I can’t pin your hair,” Wanda ordered.

“What if this is a mistake?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be your first,” Wanda teased as your eyes met in the mirror and you playfully glared at her. “I’m saying,” she continued with a small laugh, “that even if it is, at least you won’t spend the rest of your life wondering. Right?”

You thought about it a moment, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Now come on. Let’s see how you look.”

Your best friend pulled you up by your hands and you felt so self conscious, it was ridiculous.

“I look stupid,” you mumbled.

“No, you don’t,” she argued back firmly before taking your hand and making you stand in front of the full length mirror. She had let you borrow one of her dresses, seeing as you never wore them. It was a simple, deep red dress, the color of a velvety rose that stopped right above your knees. It wasn’t form fitting, but it wasn’t loose either, it was a good medium that gently hugged your body. It offset your skin wonderfully. She had pinned your hair in a perfect way. You all couldn’t afford curling irons or curlers or fancy styling gels, so you had to make do with a brush and bobby pins. “There. Now, see? The red on your lips accents the dress.”

“What about shoes?” you suddenly said as you looked down at your bare feet. “I know!” you said suddenly, running to grab a pair from under your rickety bed. “These will do,” you commented as you pulled out a pair of combat boots.

“With a dress?” Wanda questioned. “For a date?”

“It’s me,” you said simply. “I’m not a heels sort of girl...We both know that, and if Pietro is going to love me for me...then I’m wearing my boots.”

Wanda smiled and nodded. “It does go with the dress,” she agreed with a nod.

As you were putting the final touches on, Wanda came out of the shared bedroom to meet Pietro.

“Okay, she’s almost ready. What about you?” she asked as she poked her head in his bedroom. She saw her brother struggling desperately to tie a tie. She smiled gently. “Need some help?”

“Yes, please,” he said with a sigh of relief. She came to relieve him of his work.

“She looks very pretty tonight,” Wanda said quietly.

“I’m sure she does,” he responded in an equally quiet voice.

“Please make sure no matter what, that nothing changes,” she cautioned.

When she was done with the tie, she stepped back and looked at her twin.

“You think it’s going to end badly,” Pietro assessed.

“I think that for the sake of our friendships, you two should be careful that nothing...damaging happens to us.”

“I won’t let it,” Pietro promised as he stepped forward and gripped his sister’s shoulders. They hugged each other and Wanda put her arm through his as she ushered him out of his room into the living space of the apartment where you were standing.

You were swept away by how handsome he looked, donning a light gray button down, silky blue tie, and dark pants. His dark hair was ruffled perfectly. He was styled perfectly. He was as handsome as ever.

“Wow,” he uttered as he stared at you, echoing your own thoughts.

Wanda grinned and let go of him. “Have fun, you two,” she wished as she went over to sit on the old couch.

“Uh...shall we?” Pietro offered as he held out his arm.

With butterflies slamming into every inch of your torso, you nodded and took his arm. He went into the kitchenette and grabbed a giant basket and then you two were on your way.

The two of you walked for twenty minutes when you finally had to ask, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re lucky I wore boots,” you noted.

“I knew you would,” he commented before he cast his gaze down to your feet. “You wouldn’t be my Y/N if you wore anything else.”

A blush heated your cheeks as you looked away from him. The rest of the walk was quiet, until you realized you were well outside the city. Typically, none of you ever left the city. It was dangerous enough being out on the streets with the constant invasion, but you were allowed to leave the city.

Finally, you hiked a bit and reached the top of a hillside, between two trees that overlooked the city.

“We’ve been here before,” you said as Pietro sat the basket down and pulled out a blanket and began setting it up for the two of you.

“Yes,” he concurred.

“We came here when Wanda had that date. She was dating that activist and you and I were trying to find something to do,” you remembered as you stared out over the city. Sure it was broken, sure it was war torn, sure it was crumbling...but it was still home. You stared out over the lights that illuminated your sad city, but all you could remember was good things. Yes, they were veiled with the grief and loss of your parents and prospects for normal people your age, but in return you got Pietro and Wanda. A family so loyal and faithful to each other it was more than most people ever got in their life.

“That’s right,” he added as you two sat down. He sat with his arms on his knees, peering out. “It was one of the first times we were ever alone. We wandered the city for hours...until finally we found this little spot of heaven. Some place far from all our problems. Some place where the riots and poverty weren’t dampening the mood.”

“Oh yeah. You were worried about Wanda on her date,” you remembered.

“That kid was a punk,” he noted with a smirk. “Of course I was worried.”

“So was I,” you admitted with a laugh.

“Well, let’s eat shall we? I packed a picnic so…” He reached inside and pulled out sandwiches, cheese and crackers, and two water bottles. “It’s not much…” he noted, a little embarrassed.

“It’s perfect,” you assured with a gentle smile. “Pietro, I don’t care where we are, what we’re doing, or what we’re eating….so long as it’s with you, I’ll be happy,” you admitted, unashamed of your feelings for him. He was an amazing man and there was no reason to feel bad for loving him.

His eyes gazed up at you, this hint of astonishment in his eyes, and suddenly he dropped everything in his hands before they flitted to the sides of your head, his hands in your hair. He was inches away from your face, his eyes searching your face for permission, rejection, consent, trepidation...any sign for him to keep going or let go of you.

You gave the smallest nod in history, mainly because you were so nervous for this step. You wanted it, you’d wanted it for a long time. But this would change everything. It would change you and Pietro, and your relationship with Wanda. What if things didn’t work out? Just how much would it hurt to lose him and her?

But as Wanda had said, you would never know unless you took the leap. At your nod, Pietro gave his crooked smile and closed the gap, his lips finding yours.

At first it was...odd, and not what you expected. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but his lips were soft, surprisingly. You would’ve thought the usually cold temperatures of Sokovia and the lack of proper nutrition would’ve made it his lips roughened and cracked, but they weren’t. Not to mention the force with which he pushed on you. The force behind the kiss was gentle, subtle. Whenever you imagined your first kiss with him, it was fiery, passionate, and explosive. But why would it be? Your love for Pietro wasn’t like that. It wasn’t fireworks and storms.

It was quiet nights together. It was feeling safe when he was home at the apartment. It was comfort knowing he would always be there for you, no matter what. It was walking hand in hand with him and Wanda through the streets to drive out invaders. It was knowing that your mission take down the Avengers together fueled it. It was familiarity and warmth. It was home. You didn’t want some sort of adventure by being with Pietro. You wanted what you’d always had with him - safety, love, and comfort.

The kiss had morphed from feeling unusual to you softening under his touch. His hands in your hair felt new, exciting, but at the same time, his touch on you was nothing new. He was constantly holding your hand or Wanda’s, kissing your head or hair or Wanda’s. On nights the riots and fighting got to be terrifying, you all slept in one bed, finding comfort in each other, huddling close together, calming each other.

No longer did the kiss feel foreign. It felt...right. As if you were meant to love Pietro and only him. Somehow, you had ended up on your back on the blanket, with him above you, softly kissing you. The food was long forgotten about as you lay in each other’s arms.

[fanficwriter013]

The Ties that Bind (Part 7/?)

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Summary: Clint makes it his mission to win you over. He succeeds, but you don’t believe in marriage. Can the two of you stay together without the promise of wedding bells in the future? What about when the two of you are forced to go undercover as a married couple?

Word Count: 1879

Warnings: Mostly a filler chapter. Biding ado to single life, so dancing, drinking, trying on clothes and gambling.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 8 / Part 9 /

Your crew of kidnappers had been led by none other than Maria Hill. She’d taken the kidnapping part of her mission very seriously, and had it not been for the footfalls, and how she handled you. You might have tried to fight her off. She’d taken the bag off your head, and you heard a small chorus of greetings. The rest of your crew was rounded out with Bruce, Pietro, Steve, Sam, and Vision. It was an eclectic group, but these were all members of the Avengers. And the Avengers were your friends. Hell, the Avengers were your family.

“Clint went a little bridezilla with his planning, but he had this whole day set up for you.” Maria sounded like she was joking, but you knew she was being serious. You were sure that all the details had been done a year ago before the team had gone to Seoul and Sovokia. But, you were also pretty sure that Clint would have revamped whatever he had originally planned to make you feel confident about your newly reclaimed control over your body.

“Okay, Hill, what’s on the agenda?” You asked, looking around at the members you archer had decided you would get. It meant he had Natasha, Tony, Rhodey, Wanda, Thor, and Director Fury. Fury you could understand since Fury had brought Clint into SHIELD and had practically saved his life. Natasha, and Wanda you could understand. Those were the strays that Clint had picked up in SHIELD, and working at Stark Industries. But, Thor was a questionable decision. As were Tony and Rhodey, which you had to figure Clint thought were a package deal. Just like Steve and Sam had been. It was easy for you to figure out why you’d gotten Bruce, yes you may have been in a coma for half of this past year but you still hadn’t missed the dramatic falling out of the Natasha and Bruce relationship. Pietro was on your crew because there were two reasons for that one. Clint couldn’t stand him, even if he was probably the only reason why you could still walk now. But you weren’t sure why you had gotten Vision.

“Well, there’s dancing. There’s some drinking. There’s a clothes fitting. Clint also allotted an hour for gambling and something about a monkey?” She was asking you a question. But the monkey thing was more or less an inside joke, and wouldn’t actually be included on the agenda. You shook your head at Maria. “The dancing is up first, and” she paused looking at her watch, “we’re ten minutes out.” She continued, and you nodded before taking a seat next to Pietro.

“Did I ever tell you Thanks, for you know making sure my ‘body’ didn’t hit the ground. Dr. Cho didn’t say anything, but I think that may be part of the reason why my spinal cord wasn’t severed. Which would account for how I can walk now. So, in case I didn’t explicitly tell you. Thanks for the save, because of you I can still walk.” You said you were sure you had said something. But you wanted to make sure it wasn’t just an implied fragment of appreciation. That it was spelled out. The Maximoff male wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“It’s what an Avenger would have done.” You knew he was trying to end the subject, but you weren’t going to let him off that easily. You bumped his shoulder with your own. “Take the compliment, hotshot.” You teased him, sure you had been a little preoccupied the past couple of months, trying to get your feet back, but you were comfortable with the new wave of the Avengers. The limo rolled to a stop, and Maria circled a finger. Meaning it was time to head out.

The club that Clint had picked for you and your crew was like something straight out of the past. The second you walked through the door, you were met with Flapper dresses and soft jazz playing. It was probably done to accommodate the ninety-year-old that was part of your crew, but it was also part of a running storyline, maybe even a joke, between you and Clint. There was a rack of clothing available so that those that wanted could assimilate into the timeline. Maria had picked out a beautiful silver flapper dress and matching headband, while Pietro, Steve, and Sam had picked out twenties era suits to wear. You had picked out something from off the racks and found yourself walking in with Sam, and Maria was with Steve. While Pietro fell behind you, and the plain clothed Bruce and Vision followed last.

The club was true to the prohibition era, meaning that the alcohol was horrible. After throwing back a searing shot of what felt like gasoline, you had switched to water. You had also talked Maria into letting you get Steve. The super soldier was a little clumsy and had stepped on your feet a couple of times, but that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Hey, Steve. I know that Clint probably took some time off with you, for our honeymoon. But I wanna, and remember we’re in a public place here, surprise Clint with our retirement status as my wedding gift to him. So, this is our notice.” You finish out, you weren’t worried whether or not Steve could hear you. You were worried about how he would react to losing a great archer, and a somewhat okay agent asset, but better teacher. The super soldier surprised you by pulling you into him for a hug.

“Clint only took a month for you guys, but this is probably the best decision you could make. You’ll make his year when you announce this one, and in case I wasn’t clear. Your retirement status is official. I’ll mark it in the files. If you, either of you, need a letter of recommendation or a reference. Well, you know how to contact me.” He said, with a wink. It eased the butterflies that had suddenly found their way into your stomach, and now you were back to being as cool as a cucumber. Although, you could feel the excitement beginning to boil inside your veins.

You’d had to drag Bruce, and Vision onto the dance floor, but once they got out there they stayed. It wasn’t entire Maria declared that it was time to go, that you left the floor. Returning the Roaring twenties fashion back to the rack where the clothes had been found, on your way to the next destination. Which Maria had told you was a nice bar, one that you’d gone to on your first date with Clint, where you could sit and drink before the group would have to move on to the clothes fitting.

You may or may not have had too much to drink at the little bar where Clint had reserved the spacious corner booth for you and your crew. The amount of alcohol coursing within your system couldn’t prepare you for the argument that was currently taking place, and you’d taken to making up your own drinking game. Pietro and Maria, of all people, were arguing about who could pick up more people. It had started when Pietro had insinuated that he could get the hot bartenders number and Maria had taken one look at the brunette behind the counter and told Pietro that she wouldn’t give him her number, but that Maria could get it. The argument had quickly escalated from there, once both Pietro and Maria had gotten the brunette bartenders number. Now, it was about who could get the most numbers. With Bruce and Vision as the counting parties.

Sam was glad to indulge you in your drinking game and drank alongside you whenever Pietro walked away from anyone without a number, or when Maria walked away with one. It seemed to the two of you, as you took drinks, that Maria was the one more suave between the pair. Since at the very moment, with twenty minutes left at the bar, Maria had a stack of twenty numbers, so said both Bruce and Vision. Whereas Pietro’s pile consisted of only eleven numbers. And you and Sam watched as Maria approached a female, that both you and Sam pinned as straight as a ruler, and walked away ten seconds later with her number. You and the Falcon exchanged a glance before tipping your glasses back.

Clint had left you three outfits to chose from. Your crew had all the same suit to wear, except for Maria who had a dress within the same color scheme, which would go along with whatever outfit you chose. It also kept with traditions, you wouldn’t know what Clint was wearing until you saw him and he wouldn’t know what you were wearing until he saw you. You’d had to try on all three outfits, and you’d leaned heavily on your crews opinion of what you looked like in each outfit. Yes, you looked into the tri fold mirror, so you could see all the angles, but your eyes could not be trusted. It had come to a unanimous decision that outfit two was the winner. It felt good on, and everyone, including the computer person, said it looked the best on you.

Once all the wardrobe issues had been addressed, which were some minor fitting issues on the part of your crew. It was time to gamble, which was the last thing on the agenda. Your muddled drunk brain was more than happy to go gambling, but there was also a part of you that was tired and wanted to go to sleep cuddled against Clint’s side.

It turned out that not only was Pietro fast, but he was also good at poker. You weren’t sure if he was counting cards some other trick, or if he was using his speed to his advantage. Whatever it was, led him to winning a handsome chunk of money. Maria had also won a handsome chunk of money from the roulette wheel, and Steve had gotten some nice winnings from the blackjack table. You had taken a chance at some of the slot machines and had gone a couple of hands at blackjack. You had come out on the positive end, but it wasn’t as good as what the other Avengers had done.

Maria had rounded up your crew and it was like herding cats. Sam had disappeared about ten minutes into the gambling, Vision had been trying to talk with the machines, and Bruce had been hiding out in the bathroom. But Maria Hill was Fury approved and she had managed to round up all six of you within fifteen minutes. The last thing for the night was getting everyone to sleep, and that was at a suite that had enough rooms to house everyone without anyone having to double up. You were sure that Tony was footing most of this bill, and you’d have to thank him for that as soon as you saw him. You’d fallen asleep thinking that tomorrow you would be married to Clint Barton, and that tomorrow the two of you could retire and start the rest of your lives together.

Part 8

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