Summary: The last thing Wanda thought before dusting away was how the love of her life was ripped away from her, right in front of her. The truth just couldn’t be more wrong. 

Pairing:Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Trigger Warning:  Death, cursing, angst, fluff at the end

Part two

Wanda had never really thought about death before her family was ripped away from her. After Pietro’s death, dying had been something that was almost normal to the witch, sadly. She didn’t fear it nor did she really care about it. Every mission she went to she went with a mindset of “I’ll probably die or not, let’s see”. She didn’t think less of herself, she knew the abilities she had. But she did think less of death. She didn’t fear it in any shape or form. 

Then you came into the plans and Wanda was whipped immediately. The way you carried yourself, how you looked after everyone and kept everything together even in the toughest situations. She was so in love with you and your persona after knowing you for just a few weeks. 

And you made her better in her opinion. You gave her a reason to actually live through the missions. Something to come home to. But it also made her fear again, not her own death but yours. It haunted her in her dreams, that someday you’d be ripped away from her like everyone else were. She dreaded it, even though you assured her it would be okay. That you’d always come back to her. And you did, even if there were some close calls, you always came back to her. 

Then the battle at Wakanda happened. 

You were fighting alongside Steve and Thor, using your trusted sword as your weapon. The grip you had on the familiar weapon that had served you for so many years was so tight your knuckles were white. One alien, another. You weren’t sure how long it had been like that. You just kept killing every alien that came across you, time to time helping someone else.. Your body was running on pure adrenaline, your muscles didn’t ache, your body didn’t tire. It was like you were in flow. 

Slowly but surely you found yourself with the Avengers by the edge of the forest. The creeps ran down your back but you pushed the thought away. Slicing another alien you gave a cocky smirk to your girlfriend who just shook her head. It was amazing how gorgeous she still looked, even though her face was smeared with alien blood. You tore your gaze away and thrust your weapon into another alien. 

Thanos came through the portal. You were one of the last men standing. Steve was down, Bruce was quite literally stuck in stone and Thor was only god knows where. You heard thunder somewhere in the distance. You did your best to stop the mad titan from getting the last stone, Vision. The grunts and cries that left your mouth hurt Wanda so deeply she would’ve rather fought Thanos himself. 

“Wan- Ugh, Wanda,” Your shouts were strained and she turned to look at you. The tears were blinding her eyes, your salty waterfalls were already streaming down your cheeks. You looked at Vision knowingly, he knew it too. He nodded. You took another hit before slicing the mad titan to his arm, it barely made him wince. 

Whatever it takes. 

“Destroy it!” 

She shook her head, tears running down her face. Vision was the closest thing she had after you. He was her friend, closest friend she had ever had beside her brother. And you hated that she had to do this, but she was more powerful than you. She was the only one ho could od this. Wanda felt like she was killing you by killing him. You screamed her to do it again and again until your throat was raw. 

Thanos hit you square in the head basically and lifted your weak body from the ground by your neck. 

“You’re weak, small… a pathetic little human,” his voice gnarled as he looked down at you. Your face started to go red, but it did not falter. 

“I… am… not… giving up,” You looked at him with determination, your hands on his gigantic wrist and felt the sharp blade enter your stomach. He dropped you on the ground and the last thing you’d ever hear was the pained cries of your girlfriend, who was holding back the mad Titan, destroying the stone and watching the life slowly bleed out of you. 

***

Wanda didn’t fear death, not if you were gone too. It was done, they had lost. Thanos snapped the gauntlet and a weird feeling filled the witch. She held your limp body on her lap, watching as the normally rosy cheeks were paling. Her gaze moved to the sky and she felt her feeling numbing. It wasn’t worth to fight anymore if you were gone now too. As life slowly moved away from her body, she could almost hear your laugh in the distance. Your voice filled her head, memories flashing by her eyes.

I’ll be with you soon…

But she wouldn’t.

The opposite actually.

The surgery was difficult, especially since half of the medication staff had disappeared in Wakanda. Really it was a miracle you even survived. Twice your heart flat lined but they got it back working. Natasha had been there the whole time, following as you were unconsciously fighting for your life, holding back tears every time the heart monitor made a flat sound. 

Then they moved you to the HQ. Steve, Thor, Natasha, Rocket, Carol the whole team went to find Thanos and rewind the whole mess. It didn’t go the way they expected it to go through. It was impossible to bring everyone back. The stones were gone. You woke up while they were gone. To say you were panicking was an understatement. Half of the population was gone, the news was filled with sorrow and families looking for each other. 

And now you were going to have to live without Wanda forever. It made you wish you would’ve actually died. It would have been less painful that way. 

Five years. You didn’t speak with anyone about it, you woke up, trained, went outside and helped the less fortunate. Then got back home and went to sleep. Repeat, that over and over again for five years. The sword was in a trunk, buried deep under all of the books and letters there was. You hadn’t even cleaned it from the battle. You couldn’t see it. You couldn’t bear that. A couple of times you fell into a drinking spiral but there was always someone, usually Steve or Natasha to help you back onto your feet.

The miracle called Scott Lang felt too good to be real once he came. Five years, five fucking years, the slowest years of your life and now there was a man talking about time traveling. At first, it was too good to be true, it wasn’t… it couldn’t work. It would be nearly impossible. Nearly. 

But you did it anyway. 
And lost another member.

Then Bruce snapped and you waited. The HQ went silent, Clint’s phone rang and his wife spoke. The man broke into tears right then and there, that was the moment you knew… you knew she was back. Somewhere. One phone call away. 
As you went to grab your phone the whole place blew up and the hell was loose. You were fortunate enough to not be completely buried by the building.  

Somehow you had managed to find your trusted sword in the middle of all the mess, it still had the blood of the old aliens on it as you had not used it after the battle on Wakanda. You felt determination fill you and you gripped your weapon tightly in your hands as the portals around you and Steve appeared. Literal chills ran down our back and legs and you coudln’t wipe off a smirk from your face when the alien army in front of you watched gobsmacked. Your feet tingled, you couldn't stay still. You already wanted to face the titan and fulfill your promise to him. 

“Avengers…” Steve breathed out. “Assemble”

And like that, you were fighting again. Left and right, fury filling you. The aliens were dropping dead by your feet faster than Thor could summon the hammer. It was rather scary, to be honest. The small teenaged boy Peter had to keep away from you in case you didn’t recognize him, not that you’d ever actually hurt your own team members. It was still quite intimidating how many aliens you made a pile of in just a couple of minutes. It reminded them why you were made an avenger in the first place. 

It was when Thanos was walking towards the gauntlet you saw her again. And holy shit was she gorgeous. Not aged a day, unlike you who was five years older. Wanda’s eyes were red, literally like glowing and the familiar swirls Hydra had given her were dangerously big and glowing ever so brightly. Her voice was venomous as she spoke to the Mad Titan in anger and fury, chest heaving up and down.  

“You took, everything from me.”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“You will,” She said monotone and levitated upwards, her arms resting on either side of her. You followed as she kept punching the titan with all of her powers. Her whole body was glowing in a different way, you hadn’t ever seen her so… mad. She was dangerously angry. And you couldn’t help but applause her for it. It was kinda hot, to be honest.

When Thanos ordered the shooting you snapped out of your trance. Wanda was still holding him back, not caring if she was smashed to death. Once an energy ball hit her, missing her just by a foot she fell over on the ground, momentarily losing her hold on the mad titan. One of his soldiers took notice of the action and went to raise their sword, ready to plunge it into Wanda’s body. 

“Not my fucking girlfriend you asshole,” You grumbled as you ran at the alien and made sure to shove your sword straight through its neck, the only weak spot in their armor. The alien tried to move, to do anything to get out of the pain but you just twisted the sword tighter, until the soldier fell onto the ground and left you there, breathless and a splash of odd colored blood on your chest, neck, and face.

Wanda’s knees buckled underneath her when she saw you. Her eyes returned into their respectful but not any less beautiful color you hadn’t seen in so long. She breathed out your name, so softly you couldn’t even hear it, you could only see her mouth your name like it was just the two of you in the comfort of your bed.

 You took her into your arms and you sat on the ground, holding her head against your shoulder and her waist against yours. It was the best feeling you had felt in five years. Her scent you had on your old clothes now filled your nose and refreshed your memory. Her red hair tickled you face as you moved to kiss her. 

“Not everything,” You mumbled against her lips and Wanda couldn’t do anything else than sob dryly. Her hands went to your face and she leaned her forehead against you. 

She hadn’t lost everything. She hadn’t lost you. 

A/N:This is the second part of an MCU story I’m working on. The first part can be foundhere if you want to catch up.

Synopsis:Steve learns more about you, but you have your eyes on someone else.

Word Count: 3.2k

Mentions:Alcohol, sexual tension, adult themes in conversation, slight fluff & smut

Part Two - Just Like Starting Over

The following morning you make your way to the kitchen again. You’d rather avoid it but considering you haven’t eaten anything for almost 24 hours you have no choice but to go. You smile softly as you hear the familiar sound of a voice you’ve missed. Turning into the room, you see Tony poking Bruce in the ribs and regarding him playfully, Natasha rolling her eyes a the pair and laughing. Thor shovling a spoonful of eggs in his mouth, but it’s Steve who notices you first and  looks at you with slight concern in his eyes.

Wanda’s face lights up at the site of you “Y/N…Hey.” You smile warmly at the woman, one of the few people who understands what it’s like, to an extent, to share powers similar to yours. Tony and the others look up at you then, Steve standing up and Thor following suit.

Natasha smirks and Wanda raises her eyebrows at the same time as Tony, looking between the two men. You feel your cheeks flush with colour. 

“Uh…Hi.” You walk further into the room, and make your way to the coffee pot. It’s Tony who speaks next as you pour yourself a drink.

“Y/N…Have you met Capsicle yet?” Thor’s laugh rolls across the room as you turn and see Steve scowling at Tony. You rest your butt against the counter, thankful that you’re at least covered up today. The feeling and memory of Steve’s eyes as they moved over your body, causing to you blush more.

“Yes, actually…We met last night.” You take your coffee and move over to the table, sitting in between Wanda and Thor. Thor sits down as you do, Steve following a second later. Tony’s tone is playful his eyebrow raised.

“Uh huh…And?” Your midway to bringing your cup to your mouth and frown.

“And what? I met him last night, that’s it. That’s the story.” Wanda stands then and puts a hand on your arm.

“Let me get you some eggs.” You smile at Wanda and Thor leans forward in his chair, crossing his arms and bringing his elbows to rest on the table in front of him.

“It is nice to see you Y/N.” You smirk and take a sip of your coffee.

“You saw me yesterday.” Something flashes over Thor’s face but his smile quickly replaces it.

“I know, but it is still nice to see you.” You smile at him as Wanda brings over your eggs and sits down next to you. 

“Thank you, I didn’t know I could be this hungry.” The woman tilts her head.

“You’re not eating?” Before you can answer Steve leans forward.

“She didn’t eat her sandwich last night. And I offered to make her new one.” Nat settles back in her chair, crossing her arms and smiling playfully.

“Ok, I need to hear this.” Even Tony and Bruce stop and look over.

“Great, everyone’s staring at me. Thanks Steve!” You sigh and reach for your fork, Steve opening his mouth in protest but he stops when your eyes meet his. “I came to make some food and had my music on. Steve walked in, made me jump and I lost my sandwich.” 

“I did offer to make you another one.” You ignore the man and take a bite of food, turning to Wanda who wraps her fingers around her own mug of coffee. 

“So what are your plans for today?” Smiling at Wanda, you tilt your head.

“Actually I was going to ask if you’d do some more meditation training with me. I’ve found things a little hard to control recently.” Wanda nods her head and puts her hand on your arm. 

“Of course. I’d be happy to help.” You offer her a friendly smile before turning to Nat.

“Oh also, I’m down for some sparring too.” Nat smiles at you.

“Fine by me. Thor? Steve? Want to join us?” You bristle slightly, you were kind of hoping it would just be you and Nat. You still felt uncomfortable after the emotions you felt from Steve last night, and whilst you liked Thor, you were finding yourself thinking about him more recently, and can’t be 100% sure the feelings are returned. You watch as the two men nod their head in agreement, Wanda stifling a laugh as she hears you whisper.

“Put me to sleep Wanda!” 
-
You’re pleased when you get the gym and see Nat already there, the two of you talk and spend some time sparring. By the time Thor and Steve walk in, the pair of you are already flushed with thin layers of sweat on your body. You feel a rush of warmth ripple through your cheeks, as you eye the two men wearing grey joggers and tight tshirts. You’d be both blind and stupid, if you didn’t admit that they were both very attractive. Nat nudges you with her elbow and raises her eyebrow.

“Close your mouth!” You smile softly and shake your head. As she walks to the men.

“Started without us?” Steve’s voice is light and he smiles at Nat. It makes his face look different, you’ve only ever seen him looking stoic or concerned. Or like last night, overcome with emotion. You can’t help but smile along, Thor catching your eyes and smiling at you.

“Maybe you’re getting old Cap!” Nat teases back as Steve laughs, you lower your eyes to the floor blushing at the look in Thor’s eyes.

“Actually, we could do with mixing up partners. What do you say?” Nat turns to you, looking for your acceptance and you nod your head.

“I choose Y/N!” Thor’s voice booms out and Nat smirks and nods her head. “Looks like you’re with me Cap!” There’s a moment where you and Steve look over at each other and he looks as though he want’s to say something, but you turn on your heel and walk to the opposite side of the room.

“Is she going to be okay with him? She looks pretty small.” Nat looks at Steve for a second, before bringing her arm forward, he blocks it easily.

“Are you judging someone on their appearances Steve? Really?” Nat spins and connects her hand with Steve’s neck, he bounces on the balls of his feet and moves forward, ducking out of the way of one of Nat’s other punches. He smiles at her, the pair of them light on their feet, fists raised.

“No, but Thor is a God.” Nat raises her eyebrows and smirks, ducking as Steve swings for her. 

“She’s stronger than she looks…Watch.” The pair lower their arms and perch on the side of the boxing ring that stands in the centre of the room. Steve has to admit it, Y/N is light on her feet, she moves gracefully and is blocking every move Thor is coming at her with.

“You’re not going easy on me are you big guy?” You ask Thor as you duck another swing, moving behind him and kneeing the back of his legs causing him to fold and lose balance.

“I would never insult you by going easy on you tiny lady.” He moves quick and grips his arm around your neck, your back flush against his body. You move your hands up and wrap your fingers over his forehams, his breath warm against your neck. You feel him hesitate slightly and you bite your lower lip in an attempt to ignore the need that is washing through you. You grip harder on his arm and bend your body sharply, flipping the demi-god on the floor in front of you knocking the wind out of him. 

Across the room Steve stands up straighter, his mouth open slightly and Nat grins at him “Told you.” He watches as Y/N looks down at Thor, slight concern on her face.“Are you ok? Do you need a hand standing up?” 

Steve can hear the smile in Thor’s voice as he reaches up to grab Y/N’s hand, but instead of using it to pull himself up, he pulls Y/N down on top of him. “Give me a hug, I am proud of you!” You place your hands on either side of Thor’s head, arms straight. Stray pieces of hair caging  your face, your eyes on Thor’s as he smiles at you and wraps his arms around your waist. 

“You know this isn’t how people usually hug right?” Thor’s thumb brushes against your lower back and you bite down a smile at the look on his face. He nods his head and you stand up, your hand outstretched. This time Thor takes it and allows you to help him up, despite not really needing it. 

Steve feels something wash through him, as he watches you and Thor breathing deeply and keeping your eyes on each other, your hand still in his.

“Shall we swap?” Nats question snaps you from your reverie and you pull your hand from Thor’s. The two of you looking away from each other shyly. You cross the room and grab your towel.

“Actually…I’m doing some meditation training with Wanda, so I better shower and change.” You head to the door and glance back once. Nat smiling at you, Thor watching you admiringly and Steve frowning slightly.

“See you guys later.” And you walk out of the room, your mind rushing with a million questions.

-

You always feel better after your sessions with Wanda. So when you enter the main room of the compound that night, you feel lighter and even a little excited. As it was the last Saturday of the month, all of you got together and dressed up a bit, sharing food and drinks. All of you spaced out doing your own thing but still together like a family. It’s one of the things that made all the bad stuff bearable, having these people around you. 

You’ve opted for fitted jeans, heeled boots and a backless top. Your hair in loose curls over one shoulder and a simple red lip. Your eyes scan the room and you see Wanda and Nat but before you cross over to them, Steve stands in your way. He looks really good in brown boots, jeans and a plaid shirt. Once again his eyes scan your body, lingering momentarily on your breasts, before he snaps his eyes up to yours. His cheeks turning pink.

“Hi Y/N. I was hoping to talk to you before but didn’t get round to it. Mind if I bend your ear for five minutes?” He smiles at you warmly as you place your hands in the back pocket of your jeans.

“Okay, sure.” He looks relieved and takes a step closer. When his eyes meet yours they look sincere.

“Last night, I wanted to apologise. I came across as rude and old fashioned. If I upset you, it certainly wasn’t my intention.” You smile softly at his words, the phrasing all very formal and  kind of sweet. 

“Actually, I should apologise too. I shouldn’t have rushed out of there like that.” Steve smiles and the effect when aimed directly at you, is slightly mesmerising. “I can’t recall what I said, but I remember saying something and your face falling and then I felt all these things.” Steve frowns slightly.

“What do you mean?” You take a moment to think of how to word it and tilt your head.

“Well, part of my thing, like you with the super strength and the muscles.” Steve’s smiles amusingly here. “Is that I can pick up on peoples emotions, which can be quite useful as hard as it is…In fact if it’s strong enough, I can even pick up on feelings from something that may have happened years before. Whatever I said brought back a feeling of great sadness in you and it was kind of overwhelming for me after all that had happened that day.” You go quiet for a moment, Steve’s eyes watching you, his face empathetic. 

“I’m sorry, for whatever I said that may have brought those memories back and for whatever caused those memories in the first place too.” He holds your gaze for a second before giving you a smile.

“ I appreciate your sweet words and no need to apologise. I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable.” You laugh easing the tension slightly and shake your head.

“It’s fine…It’s just something we’ll both have to get used to if we’re going to work together.” Steve smiles and straightens up, hooking his thumb on to the belt of his jeans. Your eyes snap down quickly but soon come back to meet his.

“I’m sure we will. So? Anything else I should know about you?” You purse you lips and look like you’re thinking and close the distance between the two of you. There’s only an inch between you and you see Steve’s cheeks flush with colour as you bat your eyelashes and whisper.

“I’m not as sweet as I look.” You flash him a smile and walk away. You hear the man let out a breath, his eyes watching you, they widen slightly as he takes in the tiny symbols tattooed down your spine.

A few hours later, you’re sat around one of the tables laughing with Wanda, Nat, Sam and Thor. Thor sat beside, he knee resting against yours. Sam’s eye brows are raised as he shakes his head.

“I had no idea you were so wild Nat.” The woman smirks and playfully replies.

“Oh trust me, I have alot more stories. But it’s not my turn…” She turns to you then.

“Ok Y/N, three truths and a lie.” You’re thinking of what to stay  when Steve walks over and takes a seat.

“What are we playing?” Nat smiles at him and looks back to you

“Three truths and a lie, it’s Y/N’s turn.” Steve smiles and shuffles closer to the table.

“I know this one.” Thor leans back and rests his arm behind you, his fingertips brushing your shoulder. You give Nat a mischievous look.

“Okay….I can speak fluent French. I can play the guitar. I’ve had a sex dream about someone in this room and I have pierced nipples.” Steve chokes on his beer at the same time Thor sits forward. Wanda laughs and Nat takes a pull of her beer.

“I already know so I’m staying out of this.” Sam laughs.

“Ok, more stories I need to hear.” You laugh and shake your head and take a sip of your drink. Steve looks at you, his face red.

“Uh nipples?” You nod your head. Steve’s mouth opens and he glances at your breasts again before looking at the ceiling awkwardly.

“That’s one of the truths, well done Cap.” Thor shifts next to you and when you glance at him, he catches your eye and smiles at you. You hold his gaze for a moment before Wanda speaks.

“You can play the guitar…Very beautifully too.” You smile at your friend, a thank you in your eyes.

“Another truth.” Sam smiles at you.

“I had no idea, how long have you been playing?” You tilt your head in thought.

“Uh about five years.” You go to take another pull of your beer but realise your bottle is empty. You stand to grab another one, Steve looking up at you, eyes wide and shining, his lower lip pink.

“What about your other truth?” You smirk over at Nat before brushing your hand through your hair.

“I don’t speak French…I’m awful at it actually…Terrible!” You walk over to the bar and lean forward to grab another beer, you twist the cap off and take a sip. Nat and Sam breaking out into laughter.

Turning back around, you see Thor’s eyes on you and you hold his gaze, a small smile playing on your lips, your smile gets bigger as you see him stand and cross the room. Leaning his elbow on the bar next to you. The others don’t seem phased and are talking amongst themselves, but Steve can’t take his eyes off the two of them. His shackles raising slightly as he watches you lean in close and whisper something in Thor’s ear.

The golden god nods his head at your words and Steve feels the breath catch in his throat as Thor places his hand on the small of your back for a moment before you stand. 

You smile at Thor as you get off the stool and walk from the room. Steve watches you, his brow furrowed slightly. A few moments later Thor stands and yawns theatrically.

“I am going to bed. Goodnight.” He strides from the room, oblivious to the look exchanged between Nat and Sam. Steve leans forward.

“Does anyone else find it strange that Thor clearly isn’t tired and has left the room moments after Y/N?” Wanda smiles and leans forward her chin resting on her hand.

“Interesting.” Steve frowns and sits back slightly.

“Are you…Are you in my mind?” Wanda looks innocent and shakes her head.

“I would never.” Nat smirks at him, eyebrow raised.

“Why does it matter Steve?” He wipes his hand against the leg of his jeans and stutters slightly.

“Well…I don’t think they’re courting and put it this way, I don’t think they’re just talking..” His cheeks flush here but he looks pleased with himself, straightening up slightly. Sam shakes his head looking over.

“You really need to get out Cap!”

-

When you get back to your room you kick off your boots and tug your jeans off, turning the lights down so it gives the room a more relaxing vibe. As you press play on your playlist you hear two sharp knocks on your door. Taking a deep breath you open the door and see Thor standing there, a smile on his face.

“Come in.” You reach forward and grip the front of his tshirt, pulling him through the door. Your eyes holding each others gaze. He kicks the door shut with his foot and reaches his hand behind him, to turn the lock in place. You jump into his arms and your lips crash against each other, Thor holding you as though you weigh nothing. You pull away from the kiss and rest your forehead against his.

“The bed.” Your lips meet his again then as Thor carries you to your bed. He places you down gently on the edge and steps back, pulling his tshirt over his head and unbuckling the belt of his jeans. You bite your lip and watch him as he kicks off his boots and pulls his jeans down his legs. You stand up and Thor brings his hands to your hips, gripping them slightly. You place your palms against his chest, the feeling of his firm body pressed against yours, sending a heat somewhere low and intimate.

“You are very beautiful midgardian…I am very fond of you.” You feel your cheeks flush, a flicker of a smile running across your mouth.

“Well…The feeling is mutual.” Thor moves his hands over the curve of your butt, before gripping the hem of your top and pulling it over your head. His eyes darken as they scan over your face and body and your lips find one another once more. You brush your fingers against the nape of his neck, as he lifts you and positions you both on the bed. Your hands wandering over every inch of his body, you moan into the kiss as he eases your panties down your leg. The feeling of his pleasure combining with yours.

Connected - Part 6

Summary: Dr. Austin helps the team understand how memories can be fabricated, and they decide what their next steps are in regards to Y/N.
Pairing:Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count:3249
Warnings: Minor angst, medical stuff, a startling amount of exposition, discussions of sciencey magic stuff, Tony being Tony and trying to embarrass Steve and Bucky
A/N:Thank you all for being so patient, I had this chapter like 75% done for a few weeks, but I needed something to break up the mountains of information. So when I got stuck, I used that to my advantage. You’ll see what I mean. lol
You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely@idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist– Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Dr. Austin’s gaze slowly moved across the three men sitting in front of her, forcing her to lightly bite the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing at the varying expressions of dismay and confusion showing on their faces. Although the teacher part of her brain was screaming at her to explain, she waited patiently for them to process what she’d told them. Fortunately, and unsurprisingly, it was Tony who spoke first only a few minutes later.

“Not only do you have a psychic on speed dial that can read people’s minds, but you’re telling me Y/N’s memories are… fake? How is that even possible?”

“Is speed dial even a thing anymore?” Dr. Austin mumbled before shifting her eyes to Steve and Bucky who appeared to have finished processing and were now paying attention. “Charles Xavier is an extremely powerful mutant, and his psychic abilities allow him to locate and connect to the minds of every mutant in the world. It allows him to stop a problem before it even becomes one.”

“Really? So, what, he’s a mutant version of a Precog? Last time I checked, Minority Report didn’t end well for a lot of people.” Tony exhaled with a groan before running a hand down his face. “I’m… not a fan of mind control or mind reading.”

“I understand your, uhhh… less than amicable history with Wanda Maximoff may be causing your unease, but Charles is not motivated by anything malicious, nor does he assist the police with any kind of crime prevention involving humans; he only steps in when there’s mutants involved. The police stay out of his way because his abilities can help avoid preventable human casualties by a frightened mutant who has no idea what’s happening to their body.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “They all say that at first. It’s only a matter of time before they stick their nose where—”

Dr. Austin aggressively raised her hand and cut him off, much to Tony’s surprise, before she walked around to the other side of the conference room table to sit down. “It’s about safety, Mr. Stark, not snooping. A mutant’s abilities usually don’t manifest until they hit puberty, and most of these kids don’t have a support system to help them understand their gifts, or worse, they are feared and shunned by their own families. Charles uses his psychic connection to locate these kids and offer his assistance before something potentially catastrophic happens.”

Steve nodded and gave a half-shrug. “Preventative is always better than reactionary, but I’m not sure I agree with his methods.”

Dr. Austin blinked, before shaking her head with an incredulous snort of laughter. “Why not, Captain Rogers? The government uses non-intrusive methods like facial recognition and GPS tracking to locate people under the guise of preventing criminal activity all the time.”

Tony smirked and pointed to Steve. “She’s gotcha there, Cap.”

“The ethicality of casual mind reading aside,” Bucky murmured while rubbing his temples, “what do you mean her memories were fake? Are you sure it’s not just my memories that’ve gotten mixed with hers due to the link we had?”

“No. Charles was positive that the fading memories she’s retained from the ordeal are separate from the ones that were altered.” The doctor sighed a shaky breath, still distressed by what the professor told her. “Almost all of her memories from the time she was a child until she was in her late teens have been replaced or altered by another mutant or magic user. Based on the levels of residual power he found, some were barely changed at all while others had to be entirely new memories.”

Bucky slumped forward and pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the table. The pounding in his head felt similar to a distant yet unforgettable memory involving his first introduction to the chair Hydra used to scramble his brain. It was making him twitchy, unsettled… and even though he was barely showing any outward signs, he could practically feel the concern radiating off of Steve.

“Mutants… magic…” Bucky groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing as a familiar hand landed on his metal shoulder to ground him. Bucky cursed his and Steve’s close friendship because of Steve’s annoying ability to see right through him hiding his anxiety. “My brain hurts.”

“Seconded. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but can you dumb it down for the less magically-educated of us, Doc?” Tony asked, rubbing his neck to try and relieve a brewing tension headache of his own.

While it wasn’t a topic Dr. Austin would consider herself an expert in by any means, Charles had used layman’s terms to explain things to her in the past when she was still new to the world of mutants, so she was fairly confident she could explain. “Alright, think of reading someone’s mind as essentially watching a video. Memories, when formed in the brain based on our experiences, play back clearer than those that have been fabricated or altered by an external source. So, the things you experience first-hand are… ‘recorded’, I guess, by your eyes and then immediately stored in your brain with zero loss of quality. Following so far?”

The three men nodded, but their pinched facial expressions still showed their confusion as she continued.

“Charles explained that when memories are altered by a psychic, they take a stored memory, edit it to overlay false events in specific parts, and then put it back where they found it. According to him, ‘edited’ memories are extremely noticeable when reading someone’s mind, like the difference in quality between an original image and one that has been photocopied a hundred times. The fabricated memories appear blurry because magic is used to create these false events, not your own eyes through first-hand experience. Y/N likely had difficulty distinguishing specific details, like faces or locations, when her brain accessed them for recollection.”

“You’re saying someone essentially hacked her brain and doctored over a decade’s worth of memories?” Steve asked, trying to wrap his head around the horrific implications of altering someone’s life like that. When Dr. Austin nodded, he took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly out of his nose as he brought his hands up to rest on his hips. “Wow.”

“Not to pile on, but he also said that the original memories were completely obliterated by whatever process was used to rewrite or alter them, so unfortunately there’s nothing left for Charles to restore.” All three men blinked at her, and Dr. Austin frowned. “It was done on purpose; memory manipulation usually only involves altered segments of memory being laid over the actual memory in order to hide what actually happened, so those changes can be taken away and reversed at any time since the original memory is merely concealed by another.”

Dr. Austin was sure she could see steam coming from Tony’s head, so she tried to word it in a language he was familiar with. “Think of a memory as a computer file. When memory manipulation is done normally, there is only surface-level tampering of the memory file to conceal what is actually there, which allows for the integrity of the file itself to be maintained despite any changes that are made. In Y/N’s case, the original file was essentially deleted and the fabricated one was implanted in its place. It wasn’t edited and concealed, it was deleted and replaced.”

Tony immediately understood the analogy and he clenched his jaw as he nodded. “They didn’t want anyone to be able to restore or view her original memories. What were they trying to hide?”

“She probably did or saw something she wasn’t supposed to, but she was deemed too useful to kill,” Bucky stated factually, his voice chilling and void of emotion.

“The ‘why’ isn’t something we have the ability to figure out right now, but Charles did say that the ‘who’ might be easier to…” Dr. Austin trailed off, her eyes focused on Bucky and the tension coiled in his muscles as he rocked his head back and forth on the table, his forehead still pressed to the wood. “Are you okay, Sergeant Barnes?”

“M’fine,” he waved her off with a lethargic wiggle of his metal hand, “just had a lot of… unpleasant stuff float to the surface after what happened with Y/N.”

“Oh, I…” Dr. Austin’s eyes darted to Steve, who gave a minute shake of his head to silently tell her not to press. Reluctantly, she nodded and ignored the innate desire to help and heal that every doctor has. “Well, Charles did say that the level of complexity mixed with the sheer amount of memory replacement and manipulation done requires a much higher level of skill than a normal psychic.”

“Narrows down our pool of people, does it?” Tony asked, already poking at the hologram of a database search screen being projected from the Iron Man gauntlet still on his arm.

“Considerably, yes.” Dr. Austin attentively watched Tony’s fingers dance across the hologram as he swiped from screen to screen. “Charles wasn’t able to locate any unfamiliar mutants that have enough power to do this kind of memory manipulation, but there are ways people have hidden from him in the past to avoid detection. He’s going to reach out to some of his acquaintances, those mutants or magic users with psychic abilities, to see if anyone’s heard of a psychic for hire that could pull this off.”

“It seems like every time we answer a question, three more appear in its place,” Tony mused before he snorted, a smirk curling the side of his lip. “It’s like a Q&A version of that stupid Hydra saying.”

Steve turned to glare at a still grinning Tony, before shifting his attention to the doctor. “While we’re waiting for an update from Mr. Xavier—”

“Professor,” Dr. Austin corrected, smiling shyly.

“Right, so while we’re waiting for Professor Xavier to get back to us, we do have a question in front of us we can answer right now. What do we tell Y/N?” Steve leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with a shrug. “I mean, she’s back to being herself again, which is great, but being told that the memories you have from ten plus years of your life are essentially fake on top of the mental strain caused by that psychic link? It doesn’t seem like a smart idea.”

“As the only person here who’s actually had their memories fucked with,” Bucky grumbled, his breath fogging up the glossy surface of the table as he spoke, “you should tell her as soon as possible. She’ll be upset, but we need her participation if we want to figure out what the hell is going on. Having it explained by someone who wants to help you remember will make it a lot easier to process than rediscovering your identity and the missing chunks of your life on your own.”

Steve frowned and shifted forward to perch on the edge of his chair. “Buck—”

“I know, punk,” Bucky interrupted, ceasing his friend’s impending guilt spiral as he turned his head to lock eyes with Steve. “I was the one who ran. I thought I was better off alone.”

Steve smiled sadly and reached out to grip Bucky’s flesh shoulder. “Not alone anymore, jerk.”

“Huh,” Tony remarked from his seat at the end of the conference room table, his eyes wide and locked on Steve and Bucky. “Wow, yeah, I definitely see it now.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and turned to face Tony, a move which Bucky mirrored. “See what?”

“The heart eyes you give each other,” Tony explained, his mouth quivering with the effort of holding back his smile and laughter. “The internet? They call you two ‘Stucky’, by the way.”

Bucky’s head shot up from the table, the quick movement making Tony flinch, but his knowing grin quickly vanished when the throbbing in his skull returned with a vengeance. Playing dumb, he cleared his throat and glanced over at Tony. “Stucky?”

“Like, stuck as in we’re somehow stuck to each other? Or do they mean stuck with each other?” Steve asked, feigning innocence as well.

Tony flashed a mischievous grin that Loki himself would be proud of. “Well, the two of you actually have quite the following online, and there are some very talented people who like to…”

Tony’s voice became a low hum in the background as Bucky tuned him out, and he traded a look with Steve which told him his friend did as well. Thanks to a full briefing about the more… fan-driven parts of the internet after Bucky’s rescue, recovery, and placement on the team were made public, both super soldiers were well aware of the moniker given to them by those who saw their relationship as romantic instead of platonic. Natasha fully enjoyed explaining every little thing about Stucky and showing them every aspect of fan-created content sounding it—some of which she’d even called her “go-to pics” of them together—until both men were as red as her hair.

After the initial shock wore off, they both agreed that it was amusing and flattering, not at all insulting, and despite Steve’s protests, it even led to Bucky buying some fanart that he proudly has hanging in his room at the compound. Sure, the art might be a painting of Steve laying on his back, completely naked, with a detached version of Bucky’s old silver Winter Soldier arm the only thing covering his junk, but the look on Steve’s face every time he walks into Bucky’s room and sees it makes him laugh every time.

“…lovers, you know?” Bucky sighed as he focused on Tony’s rambling again, giving Dr. Austin an apologetic smile that the exacerbated doctor shrugged off with an eye roll. “Reunited after being separated for seventy years, only to find out that your best friend is trying to kill you because he had his memory erased by the enemy?” Tony clicked his tongue and swiped his hand to close the dozens of fan art images Bucky hadn’t realized were displayed on the hologram. “That is a Grade A, USDA Approved, one-hundred percent Beefy,” Tony pointedly stared at both men’s arms, “example of the ‘reunited lovers’ trope.”

“Seems like you’ve done a lot of research into this, Tony,” Steve commented, his face completely stoic even though Bucky could hear the fluttering of amused excitement in his heartbeat. “Is… there something you want to tell us? I mean, you know, since we’re already on the topic of sharing things with other people.”

“Do I… what? No, I don’t… s-share? What would I share about anything?” Tony sputtered, leaning back in his chair as a dark crimson hue spread across his cheeks.

Bucky hid his smile behind his hair as he turned and stood from his chair to stalk forward and press himself firmly against Steve’s back. Steve stiffened at the contact at first, but two light taps of Bucky’s finger on the back of Steve’s neck was all the communication he needed to tell Steve to play along. Once Steve relaxed, Bucky wrapped his flesh arm around Steve’s chest and nuzzled his face into the man’s neck.

“F-FRIDAY,” Tony whispered as he slowly patted his shirt and pants, his jaw dropping in shock so far it appeared to be almost unhinged; a rare thing to see on the billionaire’s face. “I… photos, where… I need my phone. The internet… is someone documenting this?” Tony’s attention snapped to Dr. Austin. “Are there cameras in this room?”

The stern look Dr. Austin gave Tony in response was enough of an answer. Her stare was full of so much frustrated maternal disappointment, Tony’s eyes widened and he swallowed, waving his hand to vanish the hologram as he slunk down in his chair. The doctor’s eyes shifted to the two super soldiers with a look so hard it felt like it could have come straight from one of the toughest women either man had ever known: Sarah Rogers. Steve and Bucky felt thoroughly chastised and released each other to return to their seats like scolded children.

“After all of the battles you’ve fought side by side, I understand that you gentlemen have the camaraderie of soldiers and enjoy teasing each other,” she began, her voice terrifyingly even, “but there are more pressing matters at hand.”

Since Tony was still frozen in stunned silence at the complete one-eighty in Dr. Austin, Steve cleared his throat and gave her an embarrassed smile. “I apologize Dr. Austin, that was… inappropriate humor.”

Dr. Austin smirked. “It wasn’t inappropriate, Captain; believe me, I do enjoy watching Tony Stark squirm. But now is just… not the time.”

Bucky’s lip twitched and he hung his head, nodding. “Right, well, I still think we need to tell her as soon as possible. We all know how well hiding things from each other has gone in the past, so I’d rather have Y/N associate us with honesty over white lies, even if what we tell her might be shocking to hear.”

“While personally I am inclined to agree, I do know how to read blood work and brain scans despite my inexperience with psychiatry,” Dr. Austin commented. “She needs time to regain her strength, both physical and mental, before we broach the subject.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, showing his obvious disapproval, but it was Steve that spoke before he could. “I agree.” Bucky’s head snapped up to glare at Steve, who raised his hands. “I don’t like it either, Buck, but think about it like this. She’s been stuck inside someone else’s life—someone else’s memories—for days. Telling her that the actual life she thought she had growing up was also fake while she’s still recovering from the psychic link… it could end up doing more harm than good.”

Bucky’s pained and pleading eyes flicked to Dr. Austin, and she smiled sympathetically. “I understand this is not what you want based on your own similar personal experiences, but I am very concerned that the additional stress could end up causing a psychotic break if she begins to question the validity of the world around her. The stress hormones in her blood are still extremely elevated, and we don’t know if there will be any side effects from the use of her abilities.”

Bucky blinked in disbelief. The thought of possibly causing a psychotic break hadn’t even crossed his mind. It took the serum almost six months to heal the neural pathways that Hydra tried to fry away in his brain, yet he was still plagued by gaps in both his long term and short term memory. But Y/N… she was only human and the mind was deceptively fragile when it came to trauma.

“Fine, but the second she’s able…” Bucky trailed off, his silent request hanging in the air.

Dr. Austin nodded. “We’ll tell her, I promise. I believe you are correct, though, Y/N just may be the key to figuring out what happened during her childhood.”

“Great! What do you guys have for snacks around here?”

Tony’s random sudden interjection made Dr. Austin startle slightly, but Steve and Bucky only rolled their eyes as they followed Tony’s lead and got up from the conference room table to find some food.

None of them felt the golden gaze of Asgard’s guardian on them as he silently watched the developing situation.

Chapter 15

Five years ago, Maura walked away from Hydra for good. She never imagined that, after everything, the Avengers would welcome her back as one of their own. But here she was.

She worked hard to rebuild a friendship with everyone on the team. She enjoyed spending time with Nat and Wanda when they were off duty, thanks to their shared histories with Hydra; she had even grown fond of Steve and Sam. The two had taken her under their wings like an older brother would a younger sister, despite her being a few years older than Sam. Her work in the lab provided plenty of opportunities to spend time with Tony and Bruce, too.

Maura’s relationship with Morgan grew as well. She watched her niece grow from a small girl into a teenager. They shared a lot of the same interests, both having similar personalities. It was easy for them to talk for hours, and sometimes they didn’t need words at all. When they needed it most, they could just hear each other speak.

Nothing could have prepared her, though, for the relationship she formed with James Barnes. Their connection was more profound than any she shared with the others. He was the only one who truly understood what she had gone through. As the weeks, months, even years went on, she and James grew closer each day.

Their relationship eventually took on an intimate nature, something Maura had not experienced before with anyone else. Sure, she had flings in the past, but they were never like this. There was never love involved, no romance, no feelings of passion, attraction, or anything. With Bucky, however, Maura found all those feelings and more. For the first time in her life, she felt safe. She felt loved. She felt wanted.

Sitting on the couch, the main room of the penthouse of the Avenger’s Tower aglow from the holiday decorations, surrounded by friends and family, Maura knew there was no place she’d rather be. Everything in her life, she now knew, had happened for a reason. It had happened to lead her to who she had become and to where she was now. To a place where she finally felt whole, complete, and free. Where she finally felt content.

Resting a hand on her growing belly, Maura looked around at everyone as they opened gifts, laughing and having fun together. This is where she belonged. This is where she is supposed to be. And she couldn’t be happier.

Masterlist

Chapter 14

Maura sat at the conference table with Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Bucky. Tony stood at the head of the table in front of a large screen. The image shown was one Maura knew well.

“This is our next mission,” Tony stated. “Hydra seems to have acquired some information and is trying to replicate my technology.”

“What do we know about the location?” Nat asked.

“From what we can tell, it should be a fairly easy job. There are a few scientists and only about four guards protecting the entire location. Now, that doesn’t -”

“Your intel is wrong,” Maura cut in.

Tony looked over at her. “What?”

“Your intel is wrong,” she repeated.

“How do you know?” Steve questioned her.

“Because… I spent a fair share of my time there.” She glanced down for a moment, then up again. “I know the place inside and out. There are about half a dozen scientists at any given time, usually all working on the same project, but not always. The main lab alone has at least two guards. The small lab on the west side will typically only have one guard when it’s actually in use. You’ll find another dozen agents spread around the grounds and watching the main gate.” Maura looked around the table, meeting each of their gazes before continuing. “It’s not the most heavily guarded facility on Hydra’s roster, but it’s not as empty as your intel would lead you to believe.”

“I don’t understand. Why would our information be so far off?” Steve questioned.

“Well, whether you like this news or not, you have several Hydra agents working within S.H.I.E.L.D.. Some of which work rather closely with your team on occasion,” Maura shrugged. “It wouldn’t surprise me if one of them was the one putting the information together for this little mission and was trying to send you into an ambush.”

“What do you suggest then?” Tony asked, taking a seat at the table.

Maura took a deep breath, not wanting to screw up this chance her brother was giving her. “I’d say you’re better off being safe than sorry. Take more team members than you think you might need. Or at least take the right ones.”

“Who do you suggest then?” Natasha pressed.

“Honest opinion?” Maura asked, watching as each person at the table nodded for her to continue. “If you want to use the smallest number of teammates, I’d send Barnes in to start. With his marksmanship skills, he can easily take out most of the guards on the outside. However, it couldn’t hurt to have Romanoff as a backup. She could take out a couple of them close up while Barnes picks off the rest from a distance. As for the two at the door, if Barnes is positioned right, he could take care of them too. Otherwise, they should be easy enough for anyone to take care of, really.”

Maura sat back in her chair, secretly enjoying having them all pay such close attention to what she had to say. “Once inside, Steve, Tony, and Nat should have no problem taking out the remaining agents.”

“What about the scientists?” Tony questioned.

“They shouldn’t give you too much trouble. Most of them don’t like confrontation. But if you want security, I can tag along and keep them contained while the rest of you do what you need to do.” Maura offered.

“Are you sure, though?” Steve asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “It still sounds pretty risky.”

“Maura,” Tony stood from his chair, “I’m taking your lead on this. If anything goes wrong, I trust you to fix it.” The room grew silent, everyone looking between the two and waiting for a response. A nod was all Tony needed. “Good,” he turned to walk away. “Everyone suit up,” he called over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

Natasha, Clint, and Bucky made quick work of the Hydra agents patrolling the base’s perimeter. There were far more than just the four guards they had been led to believe would be there. So far, Maura was right in what she told them.

Maura proved to be helpful getting into the building as well. It seems they hadn’t removed her from their systems, so she was able to get the doors open with a simple hand scan. Once inside, she led Tony and Steve to the central lab, where Steve quickly subdued the two guards at the door. As they entered the room, the scientists looked up in surprise. Before any could say anything, however, Maura gave them all a stern look. “Leave,” she demanded.

Tony and Steve watched as the six men scurried out of the lab, leaving the trio alone, save for one other person. Someone Maura had not expected to see at the facility.

“Scientists are making their way out. You three contain them. We’ve got company to deal with in here,” Tony spoke through the comms to the team outside.

“Ah, Raven. So nice of you to join us,” the lone Hydra agent smiled at her.

“Malick,” Maura replied coldly. “What are you doing here?”

“I have been overseeing this project personally, as you well know. And unfortunately, after your little escape, you left me in a rather tight predicament. I could no longer send you here to work on things and bring me updates, so I had to start coming by myself. Lucky me, I just happened to be here on the day you decided to visit as well.” He smirked.

“Who is he?” Steve asked quietly, stepping up to Maura’s right side.

“He was, essentially, my boss. The Malick family ties run deep in Hydra. There always seems to be one lurking around,” she explained.

“Is he going to try anything?” Tony asked quietly, also keeping his voice down.

“No,” Maura shook her head. “And he won’t make any moves against me.” She looked at Malick. “So, what’s the real reason you are here, Malick? You didn’t come here just to check on the project.”

“Not entirely true,” Malick said. “You see, Raven, this project was far more than just a suit. I had received some interesting reports regarding your whereabouts, and I knew you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to return here when given the chance.”

Maura stared daggers at Malick. “You’re right. I didn’t miss my chance to destroy the place that made me.” She took a few steps toward the center of the room where the man stood, “And I don’t have time for your games. I know you’re trying to stall, and it won’t work.” Maura lifted her left hand, and a purple glow sparked around her fingertips. “Steve, stand behind me and put your shield up,” she instructed. Once he was in place, Maura stepped in a small circle where she stood. In seconds, a giant blast of purple energy shot out in a wave around the entire room. The computers shut down as smoke rose from the back of each monitor, and Malick found himself thrown back against the wall.

Lifting her right hand, her palm facing her former boss, a blue ball of smoke encompassed the man and lifted him off the floor. “I think you forget just how strong Hydra made me, Malick,” she growled, “I am always going to be miles ahead of your games. But I do love a challenge, sir,” she mocked him.

“You know if you kill me, there will be more to take my place, Raven,” Malick tried to reason.

“I am well aware of how Hydra works,” she lowered the man back to the floor. Closing her hand into a fist, the cloud around him disappeared, “That’s why I’m not going to kill you. But take this as a warning, Malick.” Maura looked to her left and right as Steve and Tony stepped up next to her, “If you come for my family again, it will end bloody.”

Epilogue –Masterlist–Taglist

COMING SOON!!!

Summary:Harper Lee “Harley” Barton had always been the hunter, but when the tables are turned on her, Harper must put aside her natural instinct of protecting her family through distance by coming out of the shadows and admitting the truth. Will she survive the challenges that lie ahead of her? Or will she fall prey to her own darkness once more?

Pairing - hinting/eventual Bucky X Harper (OC)

Chapter 12

Maura looked at her reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t even been back a year yet, but each time she donned her Hydra uniform on, she felt a greater sense of discomfort than she had the time before. Hydra had been her home; she had worn the symbol proudly for so many years. She had been happy to do her part, fulfilling her duty to an organization that, in her mind, saved her life.

But now? Knowing what she now knew about her family, about S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra, she saw no reason at all to wear the symbol, nor to serve Hydra any longer. Maura had hoped that the feeling would fade the longer she spent back in the black, but it had grown stronger by the day. She now knew that to some extent, for better or worse, both Hydra and the Avengers had raised her. How could she help her friends if she failed to do what she felt was right?

She thought of her entry into Hydra after she was left in that hospice, alone, without any family to keep her grounded. They had taken her in, given her work and a sense of purpose. She had been a special ops agent, trained to a level only the best were allowed to reach. Intensive study under the likes of the Winter Soldier himself. She even taught young agents the ropes and how to be good spies. But that was all behind her now.

Maura patted her uniform, feeling the outline of the emblem on her waist and a small hidden knife she kept in the right side of her belt. Something about it all felt - wrong. She knew what she had to do.

Changing into regular clothing, she quickly packed a small duffel. Maura didn’t have much, she didn’t need much, but she knew she’d have to leave most of her treasured weapons behind if she was going to be able to take the essential things. So, she placed her daggers, small knife, and a couple of small guns, along with whatever clothing she could stuff inside the bag. Maura checked her desk drawers and grabbed her copy of the flash drive she had made from Tony’s computer. She opened the long center drawer and took out the only item inside; it was a small, five-by-eight-inch piece of paper with a drawing. Maura folded it in half and tucked it into the outer pocket of her bag.

Quickly making her way to the parking garage, Maura did her best to remain unnoticed. Maura hopped inside once she found her car, set her bag on the passenger seat, and turned the car on. She sat for a few minutes in silence, just listening to the engine, while she thought about what she was doing. This is for the best. This is the right choice. Maura backed the vehicle from its spot, threw it in drive, and drove away from the home she had known for so long.

After several hours of driving, Maura finally arrived back at the Tower. Getting out of her car and heading towards the main entrance, she could hear a few guards talking to each other as if she was not there. Hearing their warm tones, in contrast to the cold, odd ones many of her Hydra brothers and sisters spoke, made her feel welcome, even if they weren’t talking to her. With some smooth talking with the guard at the elevator, she made her way up to the top, where she knew the team would be.

Hearing the ding of the elevator, each of the Avengers stopped what they were doing and turned to see who had arrived. When Maura stepped out of the elevator, she put her hand up just in time to stop a knife that was soaring toward her neck, courtesy of Wanda. “I deserve that,” Maura muttered as she grabbed the knife out of the air.

“We have nothing to say to you, Maura. Just go.” Tony was cold, distant. He turned his back to his sister and walked toward the doors for the balcony. It may have been a front, but he had been hurt.

“There is a lot I need to explain,” she tried to reason. “To all of you.” Tony kept walking away and ignored her, having given up on her when she betrayed the team for Hydra.

“Tony, please - ?” Maura pushed, but he wasn’t giving up easily. “Damn it, Stark! Set the fucking attitude aside. Just hear me out.” At the last word, Tony turned to face her. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never have come to see you if I had wanted to do that.”

He stopped just inches from the door but kept his guard, still trying to decide if he wanted to give her a chance.

“Tony, please. Just listen to me.” She knew her brother was upset, and he had every right to be. “I swear, I-”

“Don’t,” Tony cut her off. “You betrayed the team. You betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D. You played both sides, wove some bullshit tale, and destroyed what hope we had.” He had a point, she thought.

“Yes. I did,” she agreed. “And I’m sorry. But -”

“I don’t believe you!” He yelled, cutting her off again.

“Why? Why can’t you -” Maura tried.

“Because you’re a liar!” Tony yelled again, letting his emotions get the better of him. “You are the worst kind of liar because your lies sound so much like the truth I can’t tell the difference.”

“Why don’t we just hear her out, huh?” Natasha stepped up.

“You’re right,” Maura sat on an empty chair, slumping forward. The team never took their eyes off of her. “I am a liar, alright. I’m the black sheep, you know? The defective twin that nobody wanted.” She looked up at her brother, tears brimming her eyes, “It must feel real nice for you to stand here judging me. Surrounded by all the things that you got out of life while I spent decades as the family reject, not to mention the ten years I spent in isolation before Hydra took me.” Maura’s eyes turned cold and dark as she let out a low growl while continuing, “Well, let me tell you, every inch of me wants to kill you for that. Every part!” Her eyes began to glow a deep blue color as her anger stirred.

A small voice came from behind them, “Maura? Wh-what’s happening?”

Maura glanced over, seeing her beautiful niece standing by the island in the kitchen. The glow in her eyes faded, and her anger melted away, “But I can’t,” she finished softly.

“I mean, that’s a good thing, right?” Sam chimed in.

“Because I made a promise to someone special. Someone who never looked at me as anything more, or less, than a person she could look up to.”

“That’s right, daddy. Maura pinky promised!” Morgan exclaimed as she ran to Tony.

“You can’t break a pinky promise,” Maura’s voice was almost a whisper, the tears threatening her eyes once again. The team stood and watched, trying to see what the next move would be from either side. “Look, I left Hydra, and as soon as they realize that, I’m going to be in real danger. The only way that I am going to be able to survive is if you help me.” She says, looking up at her brother, almost pleading, “And, personally, I’d like to live. Because I didn’t get to do a whole lot of it before everyone else decided I wasn’t worth it.”

There was a long pause. Tony looked between Morgan and the team. “You’re right,” Tony finally spoke up again. “You didn’t get to do much of it before, being all alone with no one around. But that doesn’t excuse what you did to the team and to me. You lied to us. All of us,” he continued. “I won’t -”

“Please,” Maura begged. “Tony, I’m begging you. It’s just Hydra,” she breathed in, trying to keep herself together while she explained herself. “Hydra, they had such -”

“I don’t want to hear it!” He snapped.

“Fine!” She yelled, rising to her feet, balling her hands into fists at her sides. “I understand you feel pain and betrayal. I feel the same. I was naive. I fully admit that, but Hydra was the only family I knew. Then, I found you. My brother, my blood - I trusted you, I trusted the Avengers. I wanted -”  

“So what then?” Tony cut her off, his voice rising. “You come back here, knowing they will follow, putting all of us in danger, for what?”

“Because,” she continued, looking at him, “I’m… I’m sorry. Okay? I knew, even if you - all of you - couldn’t forgive me, I at least needed to say it to you all before disappearing.”

Morgan left the comfort of her father’s grasp and walked to her aunt. Reaching out, she took Maura’s hands and repeated the words she had shared months before, “Good isn’t a thing you are.”

Maura couldn’t help but feel the corners of her lips curl into the smallest of smiles, crouching down to be level with Morgan as she recited the words with her niece, “It’s the things you do and the choices you make.”

There was another long pause. The team looked between each other and at the duo in front of them. Tony continued to glare at his sister until she looked in his direction and his eyes finally locked onto hers. “Maura…I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing,” Maura pleaded as she stood again. “Just please, don’t send me out that door.”

“Tony…” Natasha spoke up, her voice soft, “Barton and Fury gave me a chance when I sure as hell didn’t deserve one. We should give her a second chance. Besides, don’t we owe it to her?”

Tony sighed, letting out a long breath, and ran one hand over his face, “I guess we do.”

“Thank you,” Maura smiled.

“But,” Tony continued, pointing at her, “That doesn’t mean we’re going to just let you walk back in here and rejoin the team like nothing happened. You betrayed us during a mission; we can’t just let that slide.”

“I know, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. Start over at square one and work to be someone you can all count on.”

“I’m willing to work with her, Tony. I can’t speak for everyone else, but I’m willing to take her with me and take responsibility until she can get back in everyone’s good graces.” Natasha announced, “I’ve been there, Maura.”

“Fury?” Clint spoke up. “You’re the final say in all this.” Everyone turned to where he was looking, not realizing the director had arrived at the Tower.

Nick walked up to Tony. “What’s going on here?”

“Maura,” Tony started, “Wants to start over. She wants a second chance.”

“Is she telling you everything?” Fury pressed.

Tony looked at her, a silent look of confusion on his face. “It seems so anyway.”

“Is there anything else you’re not telling us, Maura?” Fury asked, ignoring the confusion from both of them.

“I swear to you, Nick. I am sorry for everything I caused. I’m done being Hydra’s pawn. I want my family back - my real family.” She looked around at the faces staring back at her.

Fury looked over to Tony, who shrugged. Turning to look back at Maura, Nick thought about what to say next. “We can’t trust you yet,“ he said coldly. "You’ll still need to prove yourself before we can allow you back into our ranks.”

Maura nodded silently, tears starting to build in her eyes again. She understood his reasoning and was glad he was at least giving her a chance.

As Fury turned to leave, Maura spoke up once more, “I have one last request, though, sir,” her voice shaking slightly. He stopped at the edge of the room and glanced back at Maura. With a deep breath, she continued, “I need a different name.“

"And why is that?” he questioned.

“I want some distance from my past. From Hydra. Some distance from the roles that I have been filling my whole life. I don’t want to be the Raven anymore; that was someone they created. I want… no, I need to be someone new. Someone that Hydra hasn’t had a hand in.”

“I’m sure we can come up with something,” Fury offered, understanding her need to recreate herself.

Chapter 14 –Masterlist–Taglist

Chapter 11

*Chapter is in Tony’s POV*

It had only been a couple of weeks since Maura left. Tony was taking it harder than the others. He’d tried to keep up his act of normalcy, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Every time he thought about the events that went down, he questioned what he missed.

How could she do something like this? We were family. We are family. We’re blood. I welcome her into my home and onto the team, and this is how she repays me?

“Tony?” Pepper called from the door.

“Yeah?”

“Are-are you okay?” she stepped into the lab, walking toward where he sat slumped over at a table.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he looked up from his hands, locking eyes with his wife.

“I just…” she sighed softly, taking in his disheveled appearance. “You know you can’t blame yourself, right?”

“Then who do I blame, Pepper? Huh? Who? Tell me!” he snapped. He had been trying to keep it together all week, not wanting to show how upset he was. If she hadn’t come in here, then maybe he would’ve kept his emotions at bay until he calmed down.

“I don’t know, Tony. Your parents? Hydra? Regardless, it isn’t your fault.” She reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He leaned into her touch. It felt good to have someone there, someone that cared enough to try and understand him. “Maybe before, I could have blamed them all. But she was here, Pepper. She spent two years in our home. I trusted her. I let her into the family; I let her onto the team… I let her meet our daughter. I did all that, no one else.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, letting go of his anger.

“You’re right. You did. But Maura made a choice to betray that trust. Nothing you did or didn’t do could have stopped that.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze before leaning forward, planting a kiss on his temple.

“It’s been months, and we’ve done nothing to try to save her,” Tony argued with the others, all sitting around the large conference table. “I have to do something. I can’t just leave my sister with them.”

“We can’t risk it, Tony, you know that,” Steve tried to reason.

“And why not?” he questioned. “You risked everything multiple times for Barnes,” Tony countered. “This is my sister we’re talking about here.”

“It’s different, Tony, and you know it.”

“Steve’s right, Tony,” Bruce added, “Maura made a choice herself to go back to Hydra. No one forced her to leave.”

“We all know how Hydra is. They brainwashed her for years! She -”

“Tony!” Natasha interrupted, her voice loud and commanding as she stared at him, “Maura was here for two years. She made the conscious choice to go back.”

“What if she didn’t, though? What if they sent her here? What if everything she told us at the start was a lie?”

“Then that’s on us. We opened ourselves up to that infiltration. But the bottom line in all of this is that Maura betrayed us, Tony. She lied, she manipulated, she took advantage of us. That’s on her,” Natasha said firmly. “Look, I get it. But she’s been gone for four months. You need to come to terms with the truth, Stark. I’m sorry.”

Maura had been gone for six months already. Morgan had slowed in her asking about her aunt, which meant she was doing much better. Tony had tried to make peace with Maura’s betrayal, but every time he thought about it, he felt angry again. It didn’t help that every time he saw Morgan, he couldn’t help but feel guilty, too. Maura’s betrayal of the team and of Tony was one thing. But for her to betray her niece? It was something else entirely. Tony could tell Morgan still missed her aunt, even if she didn’t fully understand what was going on.

“Daddy?” Tony heard Morgan’s soft voice, breaking his train of thought.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She walked into his office. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he answered as he lifted her into his lap.

“Is Aunt Maura a bad guy again?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know how to answer that, kiddo. I don’t know what your aunt is doing or planning,” Tony said.

“Do you think she will ever come back?” Morgan asked innocently.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Tony responded truthfully.

“Daddy, if she does come back, you won’t hurt her, will you?” Morgan looked up at him with big brown eyes full of fear.

“No, no, sweetie,” he tried to assure her, though even he didn’t know what would happen if Maura ever showed up at the Tower again.

“Good,” Morgan nodded solemnly, settling into Tony’s arms.

“No matter what happens,” Tony began, causing Morgan to look up at him, “You still have all of us here.”

“I know, daddy,” Morgan smiled weakly, “I just miss Maura.”

“I know, kiddo,” Tony pulled his little girl closer and kissed the top of her head, “Hey, why don’t we ask Nat and Wanda to take you to the park or something? Huh? Get you out of the Tower for a bit and have some fun?”

Morgan nodded eagerly and hugged her father tighter. The pair walked out of the office and went to find the two women. Tony gave Natasha a credit card to use and told her they could take Morgan anywhere she wanted to go.

Chapter 13 –Masterlist–Taglist

Chapter 10

Maura sat in the conference room of Hydra’s current headquarters, with three members of her command. It had been quite a while since she had sat around a Hydra table, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something didn’t feel right about it any longer.

They discussed her time with S.H.I.E.L.D. and with the Avengers. She gave them all the information she had about the team, what their next targets were, as well as giving them all the details she managed to gather about Tony’s latest project. She set a flash drive on the table, “This is everything I was able to extract from his system about the suit. He hasn’t perfected it yet, but he’s getting close.”

Malick nodded his head once. “Very well then, I believe we are done here. Raven, you may go.”

Raven stood quickly and began heading for the door. After the door closed behind her, the room fell silent for a minute before Sergeant Batrel spoke. “Are we sure that we can trust her to take down her own brother?”

“Only time will tell. Even if Raven does betray us, it won’t really matter any longer. We have what we need,” Saltz assured the others.

It had only been a couple of weeks since she had returned to Hydra. Maura sat in her room in silence, like she had done any time she was free. Though she wasn’t being sent out on any jobs yet, she still assisted in the lab when they needed her. Maura looked at the flash drive sitting on her dresser, having made a duplicate before giving one to her superiors. She had already memorized every detail on there, but still, she could not help but feel uneasy. What did Hydra want with the suit? What purpose would they use it for, and why would they attempt it now? Even Tony hadn’t perfected it yet. There was no telling what could happen or the consequences if it failed. A knock on her door startled her.

“Raven,” she heard called from the other side.

“Yes?”

Her door clicked open, and Malick stepped inside. “Sorry if I’m disturbing your evening. But I need to speak with you in private for a moment.”

Maura nodded and got up from where she’d been sitting on her bed. “Of course, sir. What’s going on?” She asked, following Malick out of her room.

“There has been some… development concerning the current project,” Malick said as they made their way to his office.

“Is something wrong with the suit, sir?”

“The suit is working just as we had hoped, and the project is progressing smoothly. However,” Malick paused and opened the door to his office for her to step inside, then followed after her. They both took seats at his desk, and he continued his thought. “The suit won’t be ready before your next mission, and I need to know you will be able to do your job, Raven.”

Maura looked up at him, “What do you mean by that, sir? You don’t think I can handle myself in combat?”

“I know you can handle yourself. But we are trying to dismantle a team that you have spent the last two years getting rather close with. I am worried you won’t be able to separate yourself. Not to mention that we don’t know how they will react when they see you again.”

“Sir-”

Malick held up his hand, silencing her. “It isn’t a matter of not being able to put those feelings aside. It is a question of whether or not you want to. If you aren’t ready, Raven, you aren’t ready.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“I understand the concern, sir. But I can do this.” Maura tried to convince him as much as she wanted to convince herself.

“Very well. Your next assignment is in two days, and I expect you to be ready for it. Understood?”

She nodded, “Understood, sir.”

“Good.” Malick turned back to his work, “You’re dismissed.” She nodded and left Malick’s office.

Maura had been back with Hydra for six short months, but it seemed like she had never left. She was back to doing missions, working in the lab, and training some recruits.

Malick was cautious. He still wasn’t sure she was ready for the larger tasks, so he only sent her on small missions. She was taking out low-level S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, infiltrating locations, and recon missions. But never on anything that involved members of the Avengers specifically.

Though Maura kept busy with her tasks, she couldn’t help but wonder what her family was doing. What her brother was working on, what Morgan was learning in school, what Banner was doing in the lab, or what mindless training everyone was going through. A part of her missed reading stories to her niece at bedtime, going for runs in the morning with Sam, teaming with Tony to take down their enemies.

A knock on her door drew her from her thoughts and brought her back to reality. Looking around her room, trying to remember what she had been doing before her mind had carelessly wandered elsewhere. “Yes?” she called out.

“We’re ready to go, Raven,” a deep voice responded.

“I’ll be there shortly,” she replied.

Maura stood from her chair at her small desk and walked to her closet. She grabbed a couple of daggers that hung on the wall and placed them in their proper places on her uniform. Reaching for the small pistol, she placed it into its holster on her thigh. Though she hated using the gun, she still brought one on each mission. Then she finished putting on her boots, picked up her mask off the desk, and walked out of the room.

Maura knew, though, that she couldn’t continue to dwell in the past. She knew that she couldn’t continue to care about the Avengers, nor her family back at the Tower. Maura was back with her rightful family. The family that didn’t abandon her, that took care of her when she had nothing. Maura was home… and she was more determined than ever to prove herself to Hydra. Or so she hoped.

Chapter 12 –Masterlist–Taglist

justkending:

Series Summary:She was done and retired. After Thanos and after the battle of a lifetime, she had called it quits and had distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep not leaving much room for a no…

Pairing:Bucky Barnes x Reader

Background of this Series (please read!)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Not sure how many chapters yet…

Series Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and after the battle of a lifetime, she had called it quits and had distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep not leaving much room for a no…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3600+

A/N: 

Chapter 5:

The rest of the plane ride, Y/N went to the back for some privacy and Bucky took the time to review the files she had come up with and had handed over to him.

There was still no background of who the head doctor or facilitator was of the whole operation in present time, but they learned that the group’s name was called Chimera. And if you can’t guess from the name, they were a branch of Hydra. 

Real original picking another greek monster with three heads, huh?

Anyway, for the last 40 years they had been hunting down children who were a part of the mutant gene pool and scouting them out to fight. Majority of the time selling to the recruitments that they were starting a new group like the Avengers that they could train on. Other times, promising them a safe place and new home where their powers were appreciated. With these two types of promises, there wasn’t much convincing outside of that to get young kids and teenagers on their team.

But in it, there were harsh experiments that ended with many dead. They didn’t care though, they had them at their disposal at this point.

It seemed as though the operation was the same one that Marley had been a part of, but after all this time, it was being led by a new group of scientists and division. Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing and what their project was.

However, they were being tracked by SHIELD as soon as they picked up on their activity. But it seemed as though each location found, was a shell of what actually had been going on there.

There were left over experiments, failed serums, and what looked like ransacked dens as they packed and moved to their next location. Clearly whatever was going on, they were steering clear of SHIELD and what would be the end that would soon come to their operation.

The evidence showed that Marley seemed to be once again used as their main guard dog. She had been left behind at operations to tack off any agents that came to snoop.

The first few raids seemed to be clear, but as of the last two missions, Marley was there to show SHIELD who they were messing with. It most likely was a scare tactic to keep them from following them, but all it did was now put one very pissed off and powerful Avenger on their trail.

And boy was she tracking them… All the research of some high level agents and Tony himself came nowhere close to what Y/N was able to put together. It helps when you’ve gone against these people before and know how they work. When they’ve hurt someone you love once, you dive into who they are and how to make them extinct.

Unfortunately, rats can easily flee without being noticed and build their nest all over again.

After 13 years of thinking they had killed off the group, just this last month Tony got more intel and thus brought it to Y/N’s attention. Now they were headed to Plyos, Russia in hopes of finding some run down building where they normally would set up camp and operate.

Y/N and Bucky had been to two different warehouses and one abandoned barn so far and nothing had come up. Each time both of them being just that… Abandoned. Not ever a sliver of evidence of a possible evil scientist lab being of use at some point.

They were back on the jet at this point. It was close to 7 at night and a blizzard was making its way in town.

Bucky slowly approached a defeated Y/N as she sat staring at the same papers that got them there. Hoping that something new would catch her attention and point her the right direction after so many wrong turns.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. She stayed staring at the notes. “Listen, I know you want to keep looking, but there’s a big storm moving in. As great as Stark’s Tech is, I think it would be better if we found a motel or something to stay at for shelter.”

Like snapping out from a daze, she shook out her head and looked up at him as if just noticing he was there.

“What?” she said, blinking and rubbing her eyes. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure when she had slept last. Even beings with that much power need rest, right?

“A decent sized blizzard is coming. I think we should find a place in town to stay,” he summed up.

It took her a second, but she shook her head in agreement and began to stand up and brush her pants off.

“зимы здесь суровы, как горечь смерти, the winters here are as harsh as the bitterness of death,” she muttered, and Bucky let out a low chuckle.

“некоторые могут даже сказать резче, some might even say harsher,” Bucky responded with a wink before turning back to grab his bag.

She smiled at that softly before grabbing her own luggage.

_____________

The two were able to find a run down motel to call shelter for the night. Because it was an extremely small town, they didn’t want word to get out two Avengers were in the area and scare off a possible raid they were working on. Even though it was starting to look like they weren’t in the right place for that raid.

Y/N had just gotten done taking a shower, and was coming out of the bathroom with her pajamas already on. Bucky had already taken his when they got there and Y/N went out to get them dinner.

The motel was tiny with just 10 rooms and of course, only three of them were actually in service. After some miscommunication with the motel manager, they ended up in a room with two queen sized beds. It wasn’t an issue for Y/N, so it wasn’t an issue with Bucky. They were professionals and Y/N didn’t seem to be one that was apprehensive about sharing a room with a stranger.

Bucky was sitting on the bed with files laid out in front of him and a few new ones they were able to print off in the jet showing a layout of the town.

He could tell Y/N was frustrated and on edge after the last failed search and all she had been doing was pacing as she read and researched more trying to find what she missed.

She was ruffling her wet Y/H/C hair with a towel in one hand and the other held a chunk of papers with new information Tony had sent them before they found the hotel. She paced the floor with some old cabin socks on, sleep shorts, a large t-shirt sticking out from a sweatshirt that was 3 sizes too big, and a pen in mouth that she was nervously chewing the tip of as she read passages in front of her.

Bucky was scanning a map and would look up every once in a while feeling the stress radiate off her. This was the first time he hadn’t seen her hair up in a braid, bun, or some other intricate style laced with a scarf of some sort. It was a different look on her, but it was nice. Her hair had a soft mix of curls and waves as it dried and it looked soft like silk.

Maybe this wasn’t the best time to be watching her like he was, but even in the short time they’d known each other, there was a comfortable and friendly energy between them instead of the stranger-like awkwardness.

But as he was watching her movements and analyzing her, she stopped in her pacing and began to turn around. He quickly looked down at the work in front of him again in hopes he didn’t get caught.

“I don’t get it,” she groaned, fisting the towel in her hand by her side and throwing it on the back of the chair as she took the pen out of her mouth. “It lined up to be the places we went and we didn’t even see a single piece of evidence that someone could have been there within the last month…”

Bucky stayed silent, worried anything he said would only make the frustration levels higher. Plus, it seemed she was thinking out loud, so he gave her the space to get it all out.

“Every place was the perfect hideout, and hit all their requirements to work a lab in…” she started pacing again. “I know that the first place we landed would probably be just a stepping stone to where we needed to go, but I wasn’t planning on coming up completely empty. There was a 99% chance of finding something.” She threw the papers in hand down on her bed and stared at the wall like it was the reason for her coming up short.

Bucky took notice of how her eyes furrowed, her nose scrunched just a tad, and her fingers wiggled by her side.

“I’m killing my brain,” she mumbled.

Bucky let out a small laugh and she turned her head to him with a defeated look.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” he apologized, attempting to wipe the exhausted smile off his face, but he failed.

“No, please do. One of us needs to find some form of happiness on this trip,” she smiled softly back.

“This isn’t much of a happy mission,” Bucky replied, watching her intently as she turned and sat on the bed.

“No, but I’d rather not focus solely on the inevitable bad that’s to come,” she sighed, falling back in a star position on her bed, with her legs dangling over the edge.

There was silence for a second, then Bucky spoke up with one of the many questions he had.

“Hey, when you were talking about your friend Lori earlier, you said ’one of the many times you attended college.’ What did you mean by that?”

Y/N sat up with a grunt, but still slumped in her position. Exhaustion was clearly winning at the moment.

“You live as long as me, a college education doesn’t hurt,” she smiled faintly. “Plus you get bored and might as well educate yourself.”

Bucky nodded in agreement. “How many times did you go?”

“Oof,” she huffed, letting out a breath as she thought about it. “Well, there was a good chunk of time where a woman going to college was outrageous and inappropriate. Not that that stopped me. I still got an education, although it was under the table. There’s no documentation of that.”

“Whatisdocumented?”

“Let’s see… Bachelor wise; Bachelors of Arts in History, Bachelors in Environmental Health Sciences, also Environmental Law. A few others in art studies, oh! Also a Bachelors of Science Education in Elementary education. I have a few masters and doctorates that expand on each of those, but you get the gist.”

“Wait, Elementary Education? Like a teacher?” he asked somewhat shocked.

“It’s quite the trying field to go into, but boy is it worth it,” she smiled at the thought.

“How long were you a teacher and what grades did you teach?”

“Um, well I was off and on for about 20 years. I had to modify my degree so it didn’t look like I graduated back in the 70’s and was somehow 27 during 2001,” she laughed. “But I stayed with the middle school aged kids. They’re so hormonal and trying to figure themselves out, I may or may not have used my powers to give them a sense of calm in the raging times.”

“Wow…. What haven’t you done?” he chuckled lightly under his breath.

“Even with all the extra time given to me in my life, the human race has created so many things and hobbies that I truly have so many more to experience,” she laughed, looking down at her hands clearly more to her thought process than just that.

There was a minute of silence as Bucky took in what she said and Y/N didn’t elaborate on her meaning beyond her comment.

Bucky was going to question on, but her phone began to ring and she jumped up to grab it.

Looking down at the caller ID she looked back at Bucky.

“It’s Tony. I’m going to take this,” she said with an apologetic smile as she swung her legs fully over the ledge and moved to the door. “Y/L/N,” she said professionally into the phone, walking out into the frigid cold with just a sweatshirt and shorts on.

Bucky realized that last part right before the door shut and cocked his head. Maybe her power protected her from the cold?

He went back to the maps on the edge of his bed and stared at them even though his mind wasn’t on what they contained. To be honest, sleep was on his mind, but also he was trying to imagine Y/N as a teacher.

She seemed to have the spirit for it and she was right. In a middle school room, those kids would probably thrive on any form of energy that wasn’t their hormones and moods shifting every two seconds.

He had laid back on the bed with a map in hand to look busy if she came back in, but slowly, he started to drift off to sleep, realizing he had been up for over 30 hours at this point.

___________

Y/N had stayed outside for close to 20 minutes on the phone. She was cold yes, but she was able to form somewhat of an invisible bubble around her that kept any heat she had in. Pro’s to energy bending. You could do a lot more with it than most could imagine.

Tony was discussing sending new coordinates her way and an old map they dug up of some underground coal mines. But just as he was explaining what could possibly be in those mines, Y/N heard what sounded like screaming coming from the door behind her.

She turned not hearing it once she looked at the wooden barrier and tuned out Tony. She waited a second and focused in on the energy in the room and felt distress.

“I’ll call you back, Stark,” she said quickly and hung up the phone as she opened the door.

Bucky was laying on his back, but was twitching and tossing his head side to side in a violent manner every other second. Grunts were trying to come out of his mouth, but his jaw was so tight and tense, nothing came out.

“Buck,” Y/N started walking quickly to his bedside.

She looked seeing maps and papers thrown haphazardly from the edge of the bed, likely from him kicking them off. The ones close to his hands were scrunched and some slightly torn.

“Bucky-” she started again, gently touching his arm, but in that quick moment, his metal arm reacted by grabbing hers and beginning to bend it back in a way it shouldn’t have. “Ow!” she shouted, and looked up to see Bucky staring at her hard, but that wasn’t the Bucky she knew. It was a scared, angry, and frightening version of him.

Instantly she brought her other hand up without hesitation and pressed her palm to his forehead. Right away, a breath of relief was let out and his body went lax, including his grip on her arm. As if snapping out of the trance, Bucky realized his position and that he still had a grip on Y/N. Even if it wasn’t harmful anymore, he dropped it immediately and quickly distanced himself from her by crawling back on the bed more.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said repeatedly, eyes rapidly checking her from a distance for any injuries. “I’m sor-”

“Bucky, it’s ok. It’s fine,” she said, putting her hands up in a way to show she was harmless. She knew for him getting closer would scare him as he worried about hurting her any further. So instead she put her hands up and showed with a small reassuring smile she was ok. “I’m ok. It’s all ok.”

“I-I-”

Another apology was on the way, but she put her hand up in a way to stop him from saying anything further. Instead, she moved that cautious hand toward the arm that was red and already bruising from the incident. In a slow gesture, she waved her hand over the arm and the white light illuminating from her palm caused him to squint slightly at the brightness.

When he looked back, any sign of injury was completely gone. Her arm was normal. As if she had just walked in and he hadn’t almost snapped it in half.

He looked at it bewildered and then looked at her kind eyes that sent a consoling look.

“If you’re going to have nightmares around anyone, might as well be someone who can heal themselves,” she shrugged. When he looked back at her with uncertainty, still not trusting himself she assured him again. “It’s ok, Buck. I’m not hurt. If I was, I’d say something.”

He looked from her arm back to her eyes, still trying to get his bearings from just waking up and seeing what he had just did.

“Can I show you?” she asked after a minute of heavy breaths and fear still radiating off of him. It took him a second and he nodded so slightly that she barely caught it, but she laid her palm face up and silently offered him to take it.

He looked down on it. His rigid posture still present and anxiety clear, but slowly he put his hand in hers. And like all the times before, that wave of relaxation and comfort flowed through his body. However it wasn’t the feelings that she was giving him, but instead she was sharing what her own feelings and disposition was. She was showing him just how unbothered by the situation she had been.

“I promise I’m ok. I’ve been through a thousand times worse,” she winked in a way to comfort him some.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his hand still gently in hers, but his tensity gone now.

“You’re absolutely fine,” she said just as soft.

There were a few long moments that carried out with the atmosphere of serenity.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she nodded before going back to her bed. Their hands sliding off the other slowly as if to drag out a second of the touch as long as possible. “Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head no and brushed back his hair.

“Just nightmares… They usually happen when I don’t sleep for a substantial amount of hours.”

“I’m sorry,” she said genuinely. “I feel like that’s my fault.”

“No. No, it’s not. I-” he let out a small relaxed laugh. “I rarely sleep the hours people are supposed to.”

She tilted her head at his confession.

“So you have nightmares often then?”

He caught how he just gave himself away and shook out his head, moving to the small kitchenette on the other side of the room.

“What was Tony calling about?” He avoided eye contact as he grabbed the glass cup from the motel and wiped the rim with his shirt before filling it with water.

She noticed the change in topic and went with it.

“New blue prints and maps are coming in. I’ll go to the jet in a little and get them. He said he would send them over, so it should be about 10-15 minutes before they’re all printed.”

“I can grab them,” he volunteered, chunging the glass of water before filling it again.

“Yeah, no. You’ll catch a cold,” she shook her head, grabbing a pair of thicker pants to change into.

“And you won’t?” he countered, but when she gave him a certain look, he put what had happened in the last few minutes into context. “Oh right.”

“Plus, I can fly. You’ll have to take the car and it’ll just be faster for me,” she let out a long sigh.

But not from irritation, it sounded like exhaustion. Which Bucky had detected long before they even arrived at the motel.

“Can you promise me something?” he asked, turning and putting his hands on both sides of the counter behind him.

“Maybe…” she replied, pulling her cargo pants over her sleep shorts.

“You need rest like I do. Promise you’ll sleep when you get back. We can look at everything tomorrow with fresh eyes,” he bartered. She hummed considering his offer. “We’re no good running on fumes. Either of us.”

She took in his reasoning and nodded. She hated to admit it, but she was tired. A good night’s rest would be helpful for her straining eyes and tired muscles.

“Ok, I’ll make that promise. But you’re a part of that deal too.”

“Me getting rest?”

“Yes. Are you ok with me using some of my magic,” she fiddled her fingers in the air like a magician. “On you to make sure you sleep well?”

“I think I can get behind that,” he chuckled. She nodded in agreement as she moved to the door to start her journey to the jet hidden off in the forest. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, if I were to get hyperthermia, I could heal it,” she winked, opening the door, letting in the air that was similar to the arctic water.

“Be safe,” he said with slight concern still.

“Will do, partner,” she saluted before disappearing into the winter weather.

TAGS:

Everest Tags: (if I missed you in tags, comment on this chapter to let me know:)

@ginger-swag-rapunzel​@annazierden​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​@death-unbecomes-you​@lizzymacy555​  @srrymydood​@xa-dia​@redhairedfeistynerd​@morganclaire4​@connie326​@captain-asguard​@mollygetssherlockcoffee​@teenagedreams-bucky​@shower-me-with-roses​@livstilinski​@basicallylool​@starryeyeseunbyul​​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​​@lauravicente​​@kakakatey​​@traceyaudette​​@notyourtypicalrose​​  @laneygthememequeen​​@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​@sandlee44​​@thorne93​​@thefaithfulwriter1​​@essie1876​​@greyeyedsmile14​​@capsiclehan​​  @xostephanie​​@averyrogers83​​@awesomenursingstudent​​@gh0stgurl​​@cs-please​​@torayuri777@jjlevin​​@rainbowkisses31​​@anise-d-castle6@deannotmoose​​@their-bibliophile​​@kitkatd7​​@willowbleedsonpaper​​@mariaenchanted​​@snffbeebee​​@couldabeenamermaid​​@rebekahdawkins​​@alyispunk​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​​@charmedbysarge​​@jbarness​​@bellamy-barnes​​@katiaw2​​@aikeia​​@stopjustlovethemcu​​@enchantedbarnes​

Chapter Five: Red, Love.

Summary: I will soothe you and heal you, I will bring you roses. I too have been covered with thorns.

Characters: Frank Castle x Non-descriptive Reader

Words: 2,377

Warnings: Barely there implied sexual themes, angst, fluff. 

Previous Chapter: Lavender

Masterlist

Even on his best day, Frank Castle was a man of few words. 

Before his morning coffee, you were lucky if you received more than a grunt or two, and after… Well, even then he didn’t exactly turn into Shakespeare. So whilst Frank didn’t always tell you things, he still managed to show you.

It started with small, simple things.

He’d pick you up from work to save you waking home. He’d cook you dinner in hopes that you’d stop ordering so much takeout. He knew you didn’t always have the time, nor the energy to cook a half decent meal, but he liked to know that you’d eaten at least one portion of vegetables during the week.

He’d take your bins out, fixed your coffee machine – which may have been for selfish reasons more than anything else – and he’d sit and watch ridiculous films with you, even though he knew you’d fall asleep within half hour, leaving him to watch the remainder of the film alone.

And he’d buy you flowers.

So often, in fact, that eventually you had to buy more vases just to house them.

So yes, Frank Castle wasn’t a man of many words, but his actions certainly made up for that. 

It was a bog-standard, normal day.

You had awoken next to to Frank’s warm body, pressing your cold feet into his calves, causing him to hiss, but remained where they were, allowing you to steal the heat from him.

He’d been awake for a while, as he always was when he had to formulate a plan for later. Except this time, he wasn’t mapping out a dangerous gang’s headquarters, nor was he plotting any type of recon, assassination…. No. He was planning something much more terrifying. Something that put the living fear into a lot of people, himself included.

Frank Castle was planning a romantic, valentines day.

He and Maria had indulged in only a few valentines, but with two young children and him a military man, it was never something either were particularly fussed over. 

You were a romantic, and you didn’t try to hide it. And Frank loved that about you.

Sure, you’d bemoan the commercialization of the day; the expensive cards that would be thrown away after a few days, and the expensive gifts and expectations, but what was wrong with showing someone you loved them?

Sure, you should hold that same amount of love every day, not just one day of the year, but it wasn’t realistic, was it? You couldn’t shower someone with love and attention and affection every damn day of your relationship. Life didn’t work that way. Love didn’t work that way.

So what was wrong with having one day where you went above and beyond?

The morning continued with soft kisses and gentle caresses. His stubble scratched over your thighs, your breathy giggles quickly dissipating into sensual moans, fingers combing through the short hair atop his head.

A shower – where curious hands continued to wander, mapping out each other’s bodies as if you didn’t know every inch of each other’s bodies – followed by the both of you lazily moving around the kitchen in an attempt to make pancakes.

He didn’t have much planned for the morning, you had to pop into work and sign some documents, and he intended to head out to the shipment yard, he’d been given information about a possible new arms dealer in the area, and he intended to – at some point that week – intervene. He’d checked every day so far, and yet nothing had come up, he was just hoping his source hadn’t got it wrong.

Either way, he intended to meet you after work, and take you to a very expensive, Italian restaurant later that evening. He hadn’t told you much, only to dress up.

He was nervous, but for the first time in so long, Frank was also excited about something.

Which was why he should’ve known everything would go to shit.

Turns out, his source was accurate. Or at least, half accurate.

Yes, there was – finally – a weapons shipment. But there was also a huge drug shipment, too. One that Frank knew he couldn’t just leave for another day.

The distributors, a Russian gang that had so far evaded him – were known to be violent drug pushers, using disadvantaged kids to run their products all over the New York Burroughs. Frank was also certain they had a prostitution ring.

Either way, despite the day, he couldn’t let these pieces of shit live a moment longer.

Keeping his eye on them as they strolled around the shipping yard like they owned the place, Frank slid his phone from his pocket, using speed dial to ring you, unfortunately however, it rang and rang and rang, eventually sending him to voice mail.

Huffing, Frank pushed his phone back into his pocket after turning it off. He’d have to just try you again later, or at least hope you wouldn’t be too mad.

He’d watched them for a while,waiting until they began their drive before hopping in his own van and staying two vehicles away. They may have had bravado, but they will still a little paranoid. Once he’d reached their warehouse, he laid in wait, watching them through the sight of his sniper. 

He’d have to be smart, his usual going in guns blazing wouldn’t work here. There were a lot of them, spread throughout the two story building. It brought back to use a lot of his Marine training, but also meant he’d spend a lot of time waiting. Checking his watch, he only had just under an hour before you’d be finished.

Shit, he really hoped you were in a forgiving mood.

Sitting on the wall outside of the clinic, you pulled your phone out for what felt like the hundredth time in the last 5 minutes. You could feel Patricia’s eyes on you through the large glass window, but you refused to turn around and acknowledge her. 

Pulling up Frank’s contact once more, you wanted nothing more than to throw your phone at the sidewalk when it diverted straight to his answer phone.

It wasn’t like Frank to be late. He was a Marine for practically all of his adult life, he knew how to be on time.

Which meant one of two things.

He was either busy, or injured.

Either way, if he wasn’t already dead, you’d be sure to kill him.

Deciding to just make the short walk home and get changed there, you set off hoping the weather would hold out. February in New York could be unpredictable and if your hair got wet, well, you simply would not be going at all.

You tried your best to give him the benefit of the doubt, and hoped – for his sake – that he would turn up by the time you’d dressed and got yourself ready.

Frank was sweating, ducking down behind a large wooden crate that wouldn’t offer much protection.

He’d managed to infiltrate the warehouse pretty stealthily, taking out a fair amount of guards from his perch on the rooftop a few buildings away. The guards outside weren’t too difficult, either. They’d become complacent in their security, lazy even, and he was able to finish them off quickly face-to-face before they alerted anyone. But inside the building was a different story.

A rogue guard who had definitely left his post walked through the hallway, passing a large look out room and managed to spot the dead guard on the floor. Notifying the rest of the gang via his radio, the whole warehouse was suddenly on high alert.

Frank had to duck and dodge into dark, hopefully empty rooms as he made his way through the top floor, killing whoever he could find on his way down. By the time he’d made it to the main floor, he’d left a trail of dead bodies in his wake.

But they were clearly keeping the hard hitters down here, protecting their stock.

Taking a deep breath, Frank popped his head over the top of the crate, firing another shot before rolling away, dodging the onslaught of bullets that followed closely behind.

Frank – without telling you where he was taking you – had told you that your reservation was for 8pm. He’d repeated the simple fact a few times before he’d dropped you to work, and twice more in the car ride there.

Yet here you were, dressed to the nine’s in a beautiful, red satin dress that hugged you in all the right places, hair and make up looking, dare you say it, damn near perfect, and stomach growling viciously as it awaited Frank’s arrival.

He hadn’t even rang you.

There were not many things in this world that scared Frank Castle was scared of. 

An angry, hungry woman, however, was most definitely top 3.

The door swung open before he’d even had the chance to knock, reminding him so much of the first time he’d come to your house to bring you flowers. You didn’t quite have the blaze of absolute fury behind your eyes back then, though.

He knew his demeanor resembled that of a kicked puppy, his dark brown eyes looking at you through his even darker eyelashes as his adam’s apple bobbled.

Watching you silently for a moment, he tried his hardest to keep his eyes on you, but your penetrative stare made him feel all of 5 inches tall. Your arms crossed over your chest, and he used all of his past military training to keep his eyes focused aboveyour neckline.

The whole mission had turned to shit, and a smack upside the head would only be the shitty cherry atop his equally shitty cupcake of a evening.

He waited, ready for your anger to bubble over, as he held out his hand and produced the large bouquet of cherry red roses, the shade almost matching your dress.

Taking one look at them, your brows pushed together and nose crinkled, “Is that your blood, or someone else’?”

His own face contorted as he pulled the flowers closer to him, looking over the rose petals that had blood splotches. He simply shrugged and held them back towards you.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

When you’d slammed the door back in Frank’s face, he didn’t know what to think. What to feel. What to do, even.

He remained on the doorstep until the door flung open once more, your heels clicking as you passed by him, bag now on your shoulder and made your way towards his van, snatching the bouquet as you passed him.

His head snapped around at your 4 simple words, “You comin’ or what?”

Now, here you both sat, in a booth in Pete’s diner. Frank’s clothes speckled with blood stains, cuts and bruises beginning to blossom across his handsome face, and you, sat opposite him in your expensive, red satin dress and sickeningly expensive heels, happily chomping down on a cheeseburger. Plainly put, you both looked ridiculous.

“It good?”

You nodded, licking at the ketchup that had dripped onto your lips. You’d sat in dead silence the whole way to the diner, only speaking to place your order, but now you’d all but ravaged the food in front of you, you were at least a little friendlier.

“I am really sorry, you know? Sorry I was so late and we missed the reservation-”

“Do you really think I care about a fancy restaurant, Castle? In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever cared about something like that?”

“Well… No, but-”

“Frank, if this is going to work, I need you to understand one thing, alright? I might not agree fully with what you do, but I respect it. I get it.I don’t need fancy dinners and expensive gifts and so much hassle. I just need you.Alive, preferably. Just please, in the future… Let me know what’s happening.”

Feeling his cheeks warm up, he pulled the cellphone out of his pocket and waved it a little, “I would’ve but uh… My phone got shot.”

You bulked at his admission, eyes widening in worry before he interrupted you, “It uh, it wasn’t in my pocket. Don’t worry.”

“Then where the hell was it?”

He looked uncomfortable, shifting for a moment or two on the squeaky seat, “It was uh, in my back pocket.”

“Wait… Wait. What? Does that mean-”

“Yes. I was shot in the ass.” He sighed, eyes darting around the diner to make sure nobody could hear you.

Glaring at you as you cackled, Frank almost wished he’d saved himself the silent treatment and led with that information.

“Does that… Is it still in there?”

The look on his face – especially when he shifted in his seat once more – told you everything.

The bullet was definitely still lodged in his ass cheek.

“It’s really not that amusing.” He tried to shush you, the tips of his ears turning beat red.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He simply shrugged, grabbing a fry and dunking it in some ketchup, “I didn’t think it was that important.”

Once your laughter had calmed into a small smirk, he turned his attention to the flowers sat on the table, squashed from where he’d landed on them as he dived into the van in his escape, blood covering some petals as he checked them over with his cut hands,

“I’m also sorry about the flowers.”

You merely quirked an eyebrow, the cheeky smirk never leaving your lips, “Don’t worry about it. Can I uh, can I tell you something?”

He watched as you fiddled with the broken petals, “Of course.”

Your smirk was finally replaced with an almost bashful smile as you looked at him through your lashes.

“I have hayfever.”

Frank watched you for a moment, the clogs in his brain churning slowly before he got it, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

He tried to snatch the offending flowers away from you, as if the soft, beautiful bouquet was a threat to your life, but you were quicker. Holding them close to your chest, you smiled,

“I didn’t think it was that important.”

A/N: So this is just a super quick note to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for all of the love I’ve received for this mini-series. 

This started as just a cute little idea, and I really didn’t expect the amass of followers, likes and re-blogs I’ve gained for it. 

I have honestly never smiled so much when I’ve loaded up the website to see that little lightening bolt appear.

So whether you reblogged, liked, followed, or even just read the series, thank you so much for your support. It means so much to a small writer like me, and I really hope to do more of these smaller series with other characters from different TV shows/movies in between writing my full length fics, because it really is helpful sometimes to just get away from a 8,000 word chapter and spent a couple of hours writing something totally different.

So thank you once again, and please remember, requests are open if there is something specific you would like to read by me.

Whilst I am still currently writing my full-length Frank Castle fic (Into Hell and Right On Through It) as well as my full length Steve Rogers fic (The King and the Lion-heart), the next mini-series fic I have planned is a Fezco (Euphoria) x reader, and a Frank Castle x Assasin!Reader, so please stick around if either interests you.

Once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH <3

With Love, always. xo.

Pale Rider - Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

A/n: This is inspired by the song Pale Rider by the Heavy Horses. I completely recommend it! It literally is a song about Frank I kid you not. But yeah, please enjoy. Also tagging @peculiarpenman because they always inspire me to write more poetically. <3 I love you! 

Summary: There’s a man with no name who comes in the night, who sits in the same booth and orders the same black coffee. He reeks of violence and yet you feel safe, but you never break the silence. Until one night. Just make sure you don’t fall in love with the pale rider. 

Warnings: Afab! reader, SMUT (p in v), language, kissing, angst, some violence, panic attack, depression, but then back to fluff I promise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a song that plays when you’re drying the clean glassware. There’s a song that filters from the small speakers echoing through the empty booths and freshly mopped tiles.

There’s a song that becomes your only company when no one is in the small diner. There’s a song that plays when there’s no one but him.

He comes in the off hours, when the highway outside is bare and lonesome, when the other servers have left and it’s only you and the sleeping cook on the kitchen stool.

He pulls up in a black van, parks in the same spot, a little far from the entrance, but close enough he can watch it from his booth three shy from the door.

You know he’s passing through, he never stops for more than an hour. Ordering simple black coffee, no cream, no sugar, in the same mug with the chipped handle. The same booth, the same unreadable expression, the same scrunch to his nose with every sip.

You don’t know why he stops every few weeks. There’s nights where he’s seemingly normal, hood pulled high over his head. But then there’s nights where he’s covered in dirt and bruises and blood. You’d have to be pretty dumb to not notice the handgun tucked in his waistband.

He always leaves without a word, just a wad of cash that doubles the price of the coffee, and a simple nod towards you.

It’s enough to buy your silence and hush your pressing questions.

Until one night.

It’s a Friday night, a couple teenage couples share milkshakes while pressing up against one another. But they leave good tips so you don’t have the heart to imagine what’s going on underneath the table.

There’s two guys that spare you no thought after you only politely smiled at their not very work friendly comments. Especially after you accidently spilled scalding coffee onto one of them. They grumble and order a breakfast meal while silently conversing with one another.

It’s late enough the regulars have gone home, the only customers being the ones the road brings in and maybe just maybe you’ll be able to use the mug with the chipped handle.

The bells chime above the door, a familiar sound making your head rise to find a familiar face.

A small smile unconsciously works onto your face as the hooded figure nods towards you and heads to the booth three from the door. You practically drop what you’re doing to get his chipped mug, stashed away in a safe space.

Grabbing the coffee pot your motions halt for a second. Questions ringing out through your head, asking why you’re so happy to see him, why he makes your heart flutter, why you feel so safe with him.

Shaking your head and shushing the little voice that echoes insecurities, you walk over to him.

He shrugs his hood off, brown eyes lifting to meet your own. Your breath leaves your chest at his gaze.

Eyes that are soft and warm and somewhat sorrowful. Eyes that have lived and seen and felt. Eyes that have fought and conquered and lost.

You smile and set the mug down, pouring the hot liquid into it.

“Freshly brewed.” Winking as you add, “just for you.”

His lips pull into a grin and you turn to walk away but then he utters, “Thank you ma’am.”

His voice thunders through your soul, shaking your bones and sending lightning through your veins. It sounds just how you thought it would, deep and timbre, yet gentle and as if scared he’s too loud.

You’re not sure what noise leaves your lips, but it definitely wasn’t human. Heat licks up your neck, thoughts running haywire as the corners of his eyes crinkle, amused at your response.

Simply nodding, you rush away, your voice failing you as your heart hammers.

Things go back to normal. The teenagers leave. Sticky strawberry milkshake left on the table, but at least they stacked the plates.

You can feel his eyes on you, watching as you wipe away crumbs. Gazing as you sweep the floor. Studying as you flash a smile his way before vanishing behind the swinging doors to the kitchen.

“Some dishes.” You alert on reflex, but fall quiet when you remember you’re by yourself. 

The older cook left about an hour ago, after you repeatedly told him you have everything under control and that his wife must miss him, plus it would be best if he slept in his bed rather than on the stool.

It’s the same fight every night. He hates to leave you even as you usher him to his truck. He reminds you of the pistol underneath the register and you smile and hug him. He always looks at you with wisdom and a hand on your shoulder, “Be safe mija.”

There’s a bang from the diner like someone hit a table and then voices start speaking. Your back straightens and you rush towards the swinging doors.

One of the men from before is approaching your hooded figure. Your heart drops. Your eyes scan towards the gun beneath the counter. He reaches into his jacket pocket, your feet start to move to the counter. He starts to pull out-

An arm wraps around your waist, a hand thrown over your mouth before you can scream. You frantically fight his hold, turning in his arms as much as you can. Throwing your weight side to side in any attempt to be freed.

He marches you through the swinging doors and the hooded man’s eyes meet your own, fear washing over them like ice water before snapping back to his cold calculating stare.

Tears start to build as you notice the gun being shoved towards him. You fight against the hold again, no’s muffled and desperate as you try and plead.

A hand slaps across your face, a ring biting into your skin and bursting your eyebrow.

“Be quiet bitch.”

Everything stops. No one moves.

And then it all happens at once.

A shot is fired, the hooded man strikes, the hands around you tighten and then fall away.

You stumble forward, blinking away tears, and suddenly you’re in another pair of arms.

Instinstics run wild, you start fighting and shoving and “hey hey it’s me sweetheart.”

Relief crashes over you as you recognize the black cotton before you, the spicy deodorant, the large hands rubbing up and down your back.

You look up and are met with the most beautiful brown eyes.

“Are you okay?”

His thumb traces the edge of your jaw, running up by your ear, and wiping the blood away from your eyebrow.

Silently, you nod, transfixed on being so close to him; your nerves still trying to figure out what happened and where you are.

“Yeah? You got a first aid kit?”

He lets you lead him slowly towards the bathroom. Lets you fist the cotton of his shirt as you look down to the two men. Lets you scan his face as you try and gauge what he is while he wipes his hands of blood.

You let him wash and bandage the cut on your eyebrow. Let him hold your thighs as his eyes dance over your features. Let him wordlessly care for you.

“Are you okay?” He repeats, this time not willing to take silent nods for an answer.

What is he? Why were these men after him? Is he dangerous? Are you in danger?

You know you should shy away, should flee from his hold, should escape while you can. But you can’t stop seeing the look of fear in his eyes when he saw you.

He holds you with such tender care, tough and worn skin now gentle and soft. His eyes gaze into your own, searching for something… anything.

That terrified look that he flashed your way is enough to tell you he’s okay. Enough to tell you he can be trusted. Enough to tell you that he’s human.

“I’m… I’m okay… are you?”

His eyes shift away, his tongue darts out to wet the corner of his mouth, “Yeah,” his right hand flexes on your thigh, “I’ve seen worse.” It’s softer, almost like he wasn’t expecting you to ask.

You reach out and press your right hand against his cheek, it looks miniature holding his head.

He’s strong. He’s powerful. He’s safe.

An intense want… need washes over you, like big swells crashing along the sandy shore, abrupt and deafening.

Maybe it’s the frazzled ends of your nerves, the frightened and heightened aire to your movements. Or maybe it’s the fact you’ve imagined this very scenario a thousand times before.  

Your lips collide to his, like magnets being pulled to one another.

There’s a half second, an hour long half second where he does nothing. Silent and still and stoic. A half second that’s long enough for the insecurities to bubble up, the thoughts to start ringing like tsunami sirens.

What are you doing? You forced yourself on him. He doesn’t even like you. No one does.

A strong hand cups the back of your head and he breathes into you, lips melding to your own.

His nose smashes against your cheek, his lips smear across your mouth, his breath seals away the little voice. Thoughts washing from your mind as it’s flooded with him and only him.

“Do-” your breathing is loud in your ears, your eyes stay shut, your hands can’t leave his form, “do you want to come back to my place?”

***

Sheets crumple at the base of your bed, clothes strewn across the room, the black van parked in your driveway.

It’s overwhelming. He fills your senses, fuels the fire raging throughout your veins.

His fingers dance over your skin, pushing and pulling at your flesh. His lips map out every curve and blemish on your body, teeth scraping as his breath fans across you. His dick slides in and out, punching something vital inside you, something that makes you curl up and scream out.

Your voice sounds small in your ears, begging and whining and gone dumb for him. Your fingers dig into his flesh, your legs wrapping around his hips and pushing your heels into the strength of his butt. You want him closer, want him to put all his weight on you, want him to crush you beneath him.

He grabs your chin, holding it firm and gentle. His eyes stare into your own, commanding you to look at him, to give yourself to him. It’s intimate and suddenly a different type of overwhelming… something allconsuming.

You know it strikes him too because those deep eyes soften, looking far into your soul, searching for something you’re unsure of. Then they shift down to your mouth, lips parted and coated in him, claimed by him.

His forehead touches yours and he stops.

It’s still.

A calm in the raging waves. The center of a pond’s ripple. The hush of a single falling raindrop.

He breathes in as you breathe out, surrounding himself in you, tying an invisible knot between your souls.

Then his hips move again. Knocking a gasp from your lips.

He leans down, lips pressing against yours no longer in a fierce hot-blooded need, but rather a gentle and almost loving caress. A kiss that slows everything down, coats your movements in molten honey, makes your heart bloom with warmth. A kiss that tells of passion, intimacy, and something akin to love.

Stars burst behind your eyelids, his nose nudges into your neck.

Flames build within your heart, his voice calls your name.

Ecstasy floods your nerves, his lips press against your own.

Just like that sweetheart. There you go. Come for me. Sing for me.

All for me. Just for me. Only for me.

***

It’s comfortable and safe.

His fingers drift across your shoulder, soft and not fully there. He’s lost behind his thoughts, mind somewhere else.

You’ve melted into him, back pressed against his naked chest. Your heart beats strong, still calming down and somehow you know it never fully will. Your own gaze misted and taken by thought.

You take his free hand into your own, turning it over and tracing the lines along his palm, scratching at the permanent scars on his knuckles.

His breath hitches, quiet and barely noticeable. It’s intimate and soft and makes you wonder if you stepped too far.

But you’ve already gone this far. 

Laid yourself bare for him. Cracked open your ribs one by one and let him prod at your heart. Torn the muscle out and gave the pulsing pieces to him as a gift, an offering.

All for him. Just for him. Only for him.

You tilt back, head leaning against him so your eyes can find his features, find his eyes already on yours.

There’s something startling in the way he looks at you. 

Skin scared and telling tales of pain, a strong nose that’s been broken multiple times, sharp jawline growing dark scruff. His cheeks are dusted with a light pink, his heart beating strong behind your back, deep brown eyes that seem to look into your soul.

They speak silent words, words that you’re unable to translate, words that mean millions to him.

His eyebrows furrow, only slightly. You’re learning that little tells weigh heavily into reading his thoughts.

Those brown eyes leave your own, trailing down your form to where you still have his hand, large and strong and worn in your hold. After a second, his thumb moves, featherlight and almost afraid as he traces your fingers. His eyes cloud over, lost again to thought.

Neither of you speak, too scared to break the silent spell.

You stay like that for what seems like both years and seconds.

All too soon and too delayed, he leans over and turns the light on your nightstand off, a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

You fall asleep like that, pressed against the chest of the man with no name.

Safely secured between the thighs of the man with no name.

Hands still wrapped around the big paws of the man with no name.

***

The next morning the only trace of him, the only evidence besides the memories is the note with scrawled letters left beneath the light next to the sweating water glass.

Stay safe Sweetheart. - F

***

You tried to not think of him. Tried to forget the stab in your chest when you woke up alone.

But the thought of him, the memory of his lips trailing up your spine, his hands tugging your ass, the hushed praise, it echoes through your head.

Gnaws away at your will power.

A fierce hunger that feasts at your soul.

You’re not sure why you’re so hurt about it. Not sure what you were expecting or wanting from him. It’s the classic one night stand leave before they wake up. So why are you disappointed? Why did you expect more? Why did you so easily give yourself to him?

Why do you desperately want more?

***

You’re softly humming along to the radio when the cook turns the television on to the news. Voices flow through the small diner about the weather and then the voices turn more hurried.

“… multiple gangs being hunted down by precise and strategic hits. Many of us are wondering just what army or gang could be doing this, but the answer is not whom but rather who.”

You set the broom to the side and frantically reach for the TV remote, the voices growing louder and lighting up the walls from where it sits in the corner. Pictures flash across the screen, some blurred, some not.

A gasp leaves your mouth.

“That’s right, this is being done by one man. Is the ghost of the Punisher back to torment us all once again?”

A fuzzy picture of a hooded man overtakes the screen and your eyes widen, the remote falls from your grasp.

It’s him.

It has to be him.

Suddenly the dots connect, the scars, the gun… the men.

He was on a mission.

You were just a simple stop along the way.

“Mija… you okay?” The cook asks in his heavy Spanish accent, worry overtaking his aging face.

Looking at him, your head nods but no words can leave your mouth.

Your heart already shattered on the floor.

A red and orange map pops up, showing pins as to how far he has covered the country. The story continues, detailing his committed crimes.

The TV goes dark, forgotten remote in the cook’s hand as his eyes scan over your frame.

“No more mija.”

He nods and trails back to the kitchen, black doors swaying after his departure, the radio soon turned back to the normal channel.

Familiar lyrics flood the diner, never ringing truer than now.

Ride to town, shoot ‘em up, and keep on going. Cause I got a job to do and I don’t stop for no one.

***

Days pass and each time the bells chime above the door your breathing stops, waiting for that hooded figure to walk through, but he never does.

You know it shouldn’t, but your heart drops in disappointment. He became part of your routine, you expected to see him, kept his mug tucked away for when he did show up.

A flickering hope that he might be on your doorstep when you return home each night.

An even smaller want for him to return to your sheets and touch you like he did, full of desire and as if the night would never end.

Maybe it’s for the best, he is dangerous after all. Best to get him out of your head. Yet even as hard as you try, you can’t break free of the invisible knot. Each attempt at running only tightens the link, let’s it dig harder into your soul. 

A constant ache that mercilessly reminds you of what once was. 

Rumors spread through the local town, it’s small and overly friendly, word traveling as easily as sickness. His name is whispered through lips, as if scared he’ll appear if they speak it too loud.

“Did you hear he killed over the Mexican border?”

“It’s one more killing to the man that has no name.”

“I think he’s doing good, wiping the land of those gangstas that think they’re all that and a bag of chips.”

“He’s unforgiving.”

“It’s one more bullet to the man that has no name.”

“Who says he won’t come here and clean us away?”

“Jerry, is there something you’re trying to tell us?”

“I’m just one more life, for him it’s all the same.”

“Just get your gun, and kiss your wife, and lock up your daughter.”

“Yeah… don’t let her fall in love with the Punisher.”

***

You’ve watched the news, listened to the customers, ears perking for anything related to him. Something inside you wants to know he’s okay, but something else wants to make sure he’s far away.

You can’t deny the hurt you felt the morning after, the stabbing force that still throbs. The tears you shed and wipe away.

What would you even do if he showed up? Flee? You’d probably not make it that far to be honest. Question him? Yeah, as if he’d answer. Kiss him? What the fuck?  

Shaking your head you clear the plates on the table, grabbing the few dollar bills left on the table for you. It’s not much, not nearly as much as he would always leave. You’ve had to cut back on spending a little bit.

Your heart tugs at the mention of him. The invisible knot tightening and starting to choke.

Late nights are filled with scavenging for anything related to him.

Court cases, police reports, mugshots pop up with seemingly no end. Your breath lodges in your throat as your eyes scan headlines, eyes tracing the features of your hooded man.

You watch videos, conflicted between anger and sorrow. You learn his story, the warrior he was, the father, the villain, and finally… the ghost.

Minutes turn into hours and into sleepless nights as you ponder, wondering why he chose this path, why he chose you, why he left. 

His scrawled handwriting untouched on your nightstand all these days past.

***

Everyone knows he’s alive. A dash cam of him sliding over a car’s hood playing across all channels.

You knew first. Heart rigged to him like an addict to a drug. Any small piece of knowledge to fuel the insatiable desire.

He looks the same. You don’t know if you’re happy, angry, or repulsed.

Your fingertips run along the hem of your dress. The man across the candlelit table passionately talks about his business and the next big thing in the stock market. You were interested in the first five minutes, but thirty more and you’ve tuned out.

Smiling when prompted, you sip at your wine, wishing it was something stronger. Your eyes run along the man’s face, watching as his eyebrows raise with every hard syllable. 

His didn’t. 

What no, stop, you’re not here for him. You’re here to forget.

“So tell me, what tickles your fancy sweetheart?”

It doesn’t sound right from his lips.

***

One little date turns into a few and suddenly you have a boyfriend.

Part of you knows it is wrong. Selfish and cruel to lead him on and let him be a sad replacement for your hooded figure.

But he takes you out for dinner each week and lets your heart be distracted from the booth three shy from the door, lets your eyes drift away from the road in search of a black van.

He visits the diner, ironed work clothes wrinkled from a hard day’s work sitting in a chair and talking about golf. A chaste kiss to your lips and a harsh pat to your butt. 

It makes your stomach churn. But the sight of the mug with the chipped handle reminds you that it could be worse.

Stay safe sweetheart. - F now crumpled and thrown from your nightdesk. 

Rejected like garbage in an irate rage as you screamed into your pillow, mascara painted along your cheeks like a Monet. Your voice horse from cursing him and then softly pleading with the universe and finally just quietly sobbing, alone. 

The wrinkled paper mocking you from the corner, rejected just as you were.

“How about a beer for your man sweetheart?”

It’s vile and repulsive and completely wrong.

But the disgust covers the loneliness.

***

Days start to melt together. The Punisher no longer in the forefront of the news, his story old and no longer the talk of the century. Merely a story told to children to frighten them out of sneaking candy in the night.

The disgust washes away into annoyance.

It builds. Slow but steady, each time you’re called the hated nickname is like another drop to the ever filling bucket.

“My girl.” Drip.

“Darling.” Drip.

“Sweetheart.” Drip drip drip.

The flow you once had to your motions now muddled and thick. You used to always have a smile, but now you can hardly fake one. The cook watches with concern as you slowly clean the diner. He offers you toothy smiles but you can’t return them.

“Fuck, I need a beer, long day today.” Your boyfriend sits down in the booth three from the door.

He can’t sit there.

That’s not his spot.

“C’mon sweetheart, chop chop.”

No.

Don’t call me that.

You can’t call me that.

I’m not your sweetheart.

“Sweetheart?”

No.

You can’t breathe.

Stop.

You can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t fucking move.

Get out.

Get out.

Sirens ring in your head loud and piercing and overwhelming.

Get out.

Get out.

“Get out.” It’s a whisper.

“Get out.” It’s a yell.

“Get out!” It’s a command.

His eyes are wide, startled, “What do you mean sweetheart?”

“Don’t fucking call me that! Get out!” You point at the door, you’re yelling and screaming, and you still can’t breathe. Sucking in air and yet it does nothing to give you oxygen.

“Get out! Get out of here! Get out of town! Get out of my life!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t understa-”

“I’m not your sweetheart! I never was!”

He leaves the booth three shy from the door, his gray convertible leaving the parking lot, the radio soft in the background.

Your chest heaves, finally able to suck in air.

Tears stream down your face, the bucket tipped over and empty.

The crumpled note rests in the strength of your palm, clenched safely between your fingers.

The cook brings you into his arms, holding you for as long as you need while you shake and sob.

“Go home mija.”

Don’t let your daughter fall in love with the pale rider.

***

Weeks pass, you feel better.

Things go back to how they were. Before your boyfriend, who you haven’t seen since.

The regulars compliment you on your refound smile, happy to have you back in high spirits. It fills a void in you.

The teenagers with their sticky milkshakes and shared fries. The old men who talk about their day back on the farms. The old ladies who gossip and try to set you up with their grandsons even though they know your heart belongs to someone else. The cook goes back to sleeping at his stool.

The note, now wrinkled and worn, rests back on your nightdesk. Where each night you trace the letters and try to remember his voice in your head.

It’s the last part of him you have and you wish had thrown it out. You know it’s the final thing holding you back. Like a recovering smoker with the last cigarette in their breast pocket. A sick reminder of what pleasure once was, what happiness felt like.

But now you can’t. Emotionally attached and still holding onto the sliver of hope. Maybe you were enough. Maybe your memory could entice him back. Maybe he feels what you do.

The invisible knot which once choked and suffocated now a craving, a part of you.

The booth three shy from the door empty in waiting, the black van nowhere in sight, the chipped mug set aside and untouched.

Until one day.

Sunny and bright, with a fresh breeze in the air. Your skirt flutters beneath your apron, your smile a little wider, your heart expecting for something you’re unsure of.

The bells above the door chime.

Your heart stops.

“Hey sweetheart.”

You’re wrapped into a safe embrace.

Don’t let your daughter fall in love with the pale rider.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you all liked this one! I’m super duper proud of it so please let me know! Seriously, I love hearing what you all have to say or think!  

As always, 

Love, Lordy :) 

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world-of-aus:

Warnings: angst, fluff.

A/n: pinch of angst in the beginning, fluff to finish it off, this chapter is the one thats really going to kick off the story, and where I plan on going with it the next few chapters, the further I go in the next chapters will more or less be able to give me an idea of how many chapters we’re looking at. As always I hope you enjoy and happy Readings Angels.

Series Masterlist

Your fingers danced along the granite stone, the cooled wind picking up around you as you knelt to the grass. Your fingers traced your fathers named engraved into the stone.

“He’s resting now sweetheart, he’s resting and watching over us,” your mother murmured softly her fingers resting on your shoulder.

“I still want to help ma,” you replied looking up at her through watery eyes, “I want to be able to help you retire, I want you to be stress free, I don’t want you to have to worry about working, I know you blame yourself for not being there, and I know his loss weighs heavier on your heart.”

Your mother gave you a tired smile, her hand squeezing your shoulder softly, “as much as I blame myself I know your father didn’t want that, he would have wanted it to be the way it was, he didn’t want us struggling, he didn’t want you to worry.”

“Some good that did,” you muttered looking away from her and back to the granite stone.

It had been two weeks since you lost your father and between planning a funeral and making sure his things were packaged away nicely so your mother wouldn’t cry herself sick, you had had no time to find that job you and your mother had spoken of the night your father passed.

It was a bitter sweet goodbye for the two of you, your mother taking the most hurt as she blamed herself for not being there. She mourned her first love, her only love.

Your mothers hand squeezed your shoulder once more, “I’ll help you to start look sweetheart,” she spoke after a brief silence, “but I can’t exactly give up the Barnes residence till Bucky has been fully given the go to start working directly for his father.”

Your eyes shot up to hers brows furrowed, “but the day that dad passed you said Bucky was being sworn in, was taking over for George.”

Your mother nodded a small smile tugging at her lips, “he was sworn in that night, but you know how the Barnes are, more specifically George, always has to go all out for his boy, now c’mon,” she murmured, “get up or you’ll ruin your dress further, George will be expecting us soon.”

A puff of air left your lips as you bunched your dress up, fingers catching the hem as you pushed to your feet. Letting the silk dress slip from your hand you brought your fingers to your lips before bringing them back down to the stone, “we’ll come visit you real soon pa,” you replied softly.

You looked to your mother, who took your hand in hers, “c’mon sweetheart let’s get going before George comes and finds us personally.”

Keep reading

Yes, Bucky what can I do for you?