#readerxavengers

[verybadatwriting]

The Healer

Teen!ReaderxAvengers

I think I kept it gender neutral, but if there’s a point that I fumbled it, please tell me.

This Antony is not Anthony Stark.

The powers are the same as in Graveyard 

Summary: Steve ends up in Hydra’s most secure prison.

Warnings: Injuries, past trauma, conditioning, death, torture (punches), witnessing death of a loved one,

Word count: 4,274

Gn!reader

A man was unceremoniously tossed into the cell by two huge thugs. His face met the concrete with a wet thunk. Both cage-like doors closed behind him, although the thugs stayed to taunt him longer. 

“Ой, посмотрите на маленького идеального американского мальчика.” 

(Aww, look at little perfect American boy.) One said.

“Ха! Поймав Капитана Америку, это сломить их дух.”

(Ha! Catching Captain America, this will crush their spirits.) The other replied.

The man, apparently regaining some strength, reared up and slammed into the bars. He was strong, not as strong as the gate. The guards simply laughed and waltzed away. The man continued rattling the bars.

“Let me out!” Echoed in the halls. 

“Stop.” You said, “Bitte.” He wheeled around, apparently seeing you for the first time. He quickly took a glance around the room, which consisted of the airlock-style door, two beds and one sink and toilet. You were curled up in the far corner, on your bed. He settled himself down on the empty bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said reassuringly, “I didn’t see you there.” 

“Es ist okay.” You replied.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry.” You mumbled, “You only speak English?”

“Bits and pieces of other languages.”

“I can use English, it’s fine.”

“Thank you. My name’s Steven Rogers.” He extended his hand, “What’s yours?”

“Y/n.” You shook his hand.

“Do you have a last name?”

“Of course: It’s Y/l/n.” 

“Hi Y/n. Do you have any water?”

“Not right now.” You said. Steve had a few scrapes on his hand, which you hadn’t yet let go of. He felt a warm glow in his hand, and the scratches disappeared. 

“What?” He said, “How did you do that?!”

“Oh my. They really didn’t tell you anything, did they? I can take injuries from others.” You explained.

“That is incredible.” Steve marveled.

“There’s a cost.” You said quietly. He was too amazed to register what you said.

    A few hours passed, in which Steve told you stories of SHIELD and the Avengers, a band of superheroes who he worked with. You told him your story, which was rather short. You were born, had a pretty good first two years of life in a normal family. Once your healing powers started to show, Hydra kidnapped you. You’d been stuck growing up in a prison, with only distant fading memories of something different. 

    “There was a really nice man for much of when I was little.” You recalled. “Antony and I shared a cell when I first got here. I think I was six when he was moved. After him, they placed the troublemakers with me.”

“I’m so sorry, did any of them hurt you?”

“My fellow inmates? Hurt me? Never.”

“Oh, why do you sound so sad about getting rulebreakers?” You shushed him. Footsteps carried down the hall.

    “дворовое время.” Guard’s monotonous voice rang.

    “Yay. Yard time.” You sighed unenthusiastically, “They’re not gonna let you go, since it’s your first day here, and you look ridiculously strong.” You stood up and entered the first door, swiftly closing it behind you. “See you in a bit, Captain Rogers!” 

    The guard opened the second door and you flowed with the crowd, through the corridors you knew like the back of your hand. The masses were funneled into a bottleneck where jackets were handed out. Nobody got shoes, a coat was enough to keep most from dying, so that’s what they got.

    “Good morning Y/n” the man handing out jackets said.

“Hello Antony.” You replied. Anyone could do odd jobs for the thugs to get a little good will. Occasionally he’d get an extra scoop in his dinner bowl, or he’d receive some small trinket like socks or a scrap of paper.

“Check the pocket.” He whispered. He passed you a jacket, and inside there was a note that read ‘Is it true the Captain is caught?’ Years of living here had trained you to discreetly slip it back into your pocket as you put on your coat, while acting like nothing had happened.

“Thank you, Antony. We’ll talk at the stump.” You shoved on your coat and went into the Yard. You looked forward to yard time, since you could freely talk with whomever you pleased, and you got a little bit of fresh air. Life here was a living hell, and the landscape reflected it. Desolate tundra encompassed the prison’s structures for miles on end.

Today the weather was surprisingly good. The sun peeked through the clouds occasionally, and only small flurries of snow drifted around. Like the snow, you drifted, waltzing across the scraggly grass on the frozen ground. You went to your usual spot, a tiny tree stump that wasn’t quite as cold as the ground.

 A crowd started to gather around you. Injured inmates would come to you, but only in dire situations. They knew the price of your power. They used one man’s shoulder dislocation as an excuse to collect. 

Murmurs of “Is it true?” swirled around in a multitude of languages. French, German, Spanish, Russian, Latin, and occasionally Arabic.

Most of the inmates here were enemies of Hydra, good men, from all around the globe. Some of the older prisoners were in because they prematurely found out about Hydra’s infiltration of SHIELD and opposed it. Others were there because they posed too much of a threat. All wanted to leave, none had much hope.

“Yes.” You said, making it look like you were talking about the dislocated shoulder. “He’s here. Very strong too.” You moved the arm a little, and the man winced.    

“Does he resist?” Antony, who had wandered over, asked.

“Yes.” You sighed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, he doesn’t know.”

“Does he have a plan for… You know…” One of the fresher inmates said. He had a french accent, and seemed to be struggling to find the right word. Eventually he resorted to his native tongue.

“Échapper?” 

The crowd went silent. Even mentioning the word ‘escape’ could bring dire punishments.

“Not to my knowledge.” You hastily replied. You knew this was taking too long, and everyone else did too. They started to disperse, and you began to fix the man’s arm for real. Antony had relocated it twice already, but there was damage to the ligaments around it, which caused it to become dislocated very easily.

Antony relocated it for a third time, which caused the man to wince again. Immediately after, you laid your hands on it. He felt a warm glow, and his shoulder was completely healed. Your face was set in a grimace. Crouching to look eye-to-eye with you, Antony spoke.

“I need to relocate it.”

“I know, Ant.” You said, “I also know it’ll hurt.”

“The clock’s ticking. If the ligaments heal while the bones aren't in the right place, it’ll only cause you more trouble down the road.”

“Fine.” You allowed him to relocate your shoulder. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and he secured it fairly easily.

“Thank you.” The man you healed said, “Te daré mi pan en la cena.” (I will give you my bread at dinner.) 

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“René Telesforo.”

“Only give me the bread if you can spare it.”

“I can.” He walked off.

“I’ve always wondered why you do this.” Antony said after a pause.

“Do what?”

“Continue to heal us more than they make you, even though it hurts.”

“Everyone here is nice enough.” You paused. “Plus it would take forever for something like this to heal on a normal person. Now that I’m the injured one, it should be fine in, like, an hour.”

That was the price of healing. You received the injury. Logically, it was the best way to handle it. You heal abnormally fast, and your shoulder was already feeling a bit better. 

“What’s that?” You asked, motioning to his arm. He attempted to hide it, but your powers told you it was a complex fracture with a lot of bruising.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Liar.” You said, “Let me see.”

“No. I’ll never make you heal me again.”

“But I’m offering.”

“It’ll fix itself eventually.”

“Not on you, or at least not for a long time.”

“No.” He said, “And that’s final.”

True to his word, René gave you his chunk of bread at dinner right as you walked into the hall. They’d decided to allow the Captain into the dining hall, if only to lord his capture over the other prisoners. You assumed it was to discourage the other inmates, and it worked. Many were so disheartened at SHIELD’s loss that they neglected to eat. Naturally, others swept in to scavenge their scraps.

You and Steve were seated in the corner, and nobody was allowed to interact with him. You couldn’t really complain, at least you got to sit without being squished between a bunch of other people. 

Steve stood up, which is a huge violation of the dinnertime rules, and started addressing the room. He gave a rousing speech about how they would get out of there, and how he would personally ensure everyone’s safety, but you didn’t hear any of it. The pure dread you were experiencing drowned it out.

“Steve,” You said quietly, “Captain, please get down. The guards… They’ll…”

“It’s okay Y/n,” He said, “I can handle whatever they try.”

“No…” You whispered, “You don’t understand.” He didn’t hear you over the cheers of the inmates as he continued describing how his friends were coming to save them, now that they knew where the prison was.

In a normal prison, the guards would have stepped in once they all got riled up. Hydra has some interesting alternate methods of control. A thin man in the corner simply scribbled on a clipboard and whispered with the man next to him. The moment he did that, all the inmates sat, and extended apologies. 

Not to the guards, though. 

To you.

Steve finished his speech, and sat to finish his food. One of the goons, the scraggly one holding the clipboard, sauntered up to the food counter, and started speaking.

“All of you are aware that behavior of this kind cannot be tolerated. Since there has recently been a disturbance to our schedule,” He glanced in Steve’s direction, “We are willing to be lenient. 

“The usual punishment will be shifted to the one who inspired the behavior. Our newest arrival: Steven Rogers. Finish your meals, and then proceed to the Viewing Room.” He strolled to the door, and left. You ate quickly. Seeming very confident in himself, Steve did too. You finished before him.

“Why must you break the rules?” You asked.

“It seemed to inspire the others,” He paused, “For a bit at least. What's wrong?”

“It’s fine.” You said as the guards motioned for you to follow them.

“Nothing you can do about it anymore.” With the sleeve of your shirt you wiped your mouth and followed the directions given. Steve and you walked down the hall to a room you knew too well. It was set up like a theater, but the shows weren’t for the prisoner’s entertainment. Two chairs sat on the stage, in an auditorium-like room.

One chair had thick leather straps, it was built like it was meant to withstand the end of the world. The other was one of those flimsy folding chairs. You seated yourself in the second one. Without much complaint, the Captain was situated in the first chair.

“What now?” Steve asked. “Do we sit in complete silence for an hour?” The scrawny man glowered at you, and you in turn shot a warning glance at Steve. He took the hint and stopped talking. 

A few moments later, prisoners started streaming in and seating themselves. They were all perfectly silent. Within minutes, the room was filled and completely silent.

“We have decided that recent incidents were heavily influenced by the arrival of Steven Rogers.” The thin man spoke while standing between the two chairs up on the stage. “Thus, he shall receive the punishment. The rules broken are as follows. Speaking out of turn.”

A second guard, who had been standing behind the chairs until that point stepped forward and dealt a heavy blow to Steve’s shoulder.

“Failure to heed instructions hastily.” The scrawny guard continued and another punch whacked onto his torso.

“Attempting to start a riot.” Thud.

“Failure to return his bowl to the proper collection site.” Whack.

“Standing during dinner.” Thump.

“Failure to properly report himself at roundup.” Another punch. Steve didn’t so much as wince. You on the other hand were internally calculating how long each wound would take to heal. They continued listing tiny infractions and beating him. Every small thing made his fellow prisoners look at him with more and more disdain.

“Is that all?” Steve brazenly asked. 

“Failure to remain quiet during Example Making.” And a punch was the reply.

“Mx. Y/l/n?” The skinny thug asked with mocking respect. You scooted your chair closer to Steve’s and placed two hands on his arm. 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Skinny thug said. You nodded and began to heal Steve. Funny thing about your powers, the other person still feels some pain from the injuries, so this was a perfect form of punishment for Hydra.

It not only hurt the perpetrator, it also made everyone else hate them for causing pain to a child. On top of that, the prisoners would be less likely to trust any of Steve’s plans to escape, because their idealistic view of him would be shattered.

The strike to his abdomen was especially painful, it most likely caused some internal bleeding, and you cried out briefly before catching yourself.  The bruises barely had time to form on your skin before they were healed. 

“Remember: Resistance means injury to you and them.” This is how they ended every session. They drilled this saying into your collective heads. You were allowed to leave before Steve was. After limping back to your room, you collapsed onto the bed.

You awoke at two AM. All your physical injuries were healed. No nightmares plagued you. No unusual noises rang in the halls. Steve noticed you were awake, and that nothing specific seemed to have woken you.

“Why are-” He tried asking.

“Sh!” You hiss-whispered. He followed you to the wall of the cell, where he looked out and saw every other prisoner was doing the same. For a moment he was confused, then you pressed the button on the sink. 

“Didn’t you say it was broken?” He inquired, while the pacing guards were at the other end of the hall.

“No, I said ‘not right now.’ They do it to mess with us.” You said. “Now we all wake up at whatever time it is now, and we never get a good night's rest without getting dangerously dehydrated.” Your conversation quieted as the guards returned to this end.

The next day, they allowed Steve into The Yard with the rest of the inmates. You and Antony hung out with him. Yesterday’s Example Making made most people not want to risk contact with him.

“Steve, this is Antony.” You introduced them. “Antony, Steve. Although I’m sure you’ve already heard of him.” 

“I have, yes.” 

“Good to meet you, Antony. Y/n has told me that you two are close friends.”

“Yes, we are.” Antony smiled, “They are a wonderful person, and it sucks that they’re stuck in a place like this.”

“None of us will have to be for much longer.” Steve lowered his voice. “I managed to sneak a tracker in with me.”

“Woah…” You gasped. “How?”

“I had it implanted in my arm.”

“How long did that take?” Antony asked skeptically.

“Only half an hour.” Steve replied.

“Seems like you knew beforehand that you’d be caught.” Antony said. 

“That was the plan.” Antony and you both stared at the Captain in amazement and confusion.

“You wanted to come here?” Antony asked.

“Calm down.” Steve said, “The other Avengers and I figured that there had to be another prison somewhere. Inmate numbers never added up, and the transcripts we found kept saying high-risk inmates were ‘Transferred to’ and then a redacted name.”

“Who are the Avengers?” Antony asked.

“They’re other people with abilities like me and him.” You replied, “They and Hydra are enemies.”

“Yes, and the other Avengers are going to be here sometime today – as long as the tracker didn’t break – and we need to be ready to fight. How many of them do you think will be willing to help us?”

“At any usual prison, a small disturbance starting would be enough to set off this group.” he paused, “But with the threat of torturing Y/n hanging over us… Y/n would need to show their support before the others would even consider fighting.” The Captain contemplated for a moment.

“I won’t force you to fight, Y/n.” He said, “It would be very helpful if you showed support. I know you have immense difficulty disagreeing with these people… And I understand that you might not believe me. I won’t force you to fight, just please think about it.”

“Okay. I’ll definitely think about it.” You said, “And you’re right, I’m not 100% sure that this plan isn’t some convoluted excuse to punish us more. It could be a twisted loyalty test for all I know.” You paused. “Once I see proof, I’ll fight.”

“That’s all I ask.” Steve said, “I promise, you’ll see proof.”

Two AM came and the facility went on lockdown. Everybody managed to snag a couple sips of water before they shut it off.

“Great.” A man down the hall said, “They’re depriving us of water over a rumor.” Getting whacked over the head with the butt of a rifle quickly shut him up. That was the first sign that something was truly wrong. Not another training exercise, a real threat to this prison.

And that excited people.

Nothing seemed to happen between two and five AM. At least, not from the prisoners’ perspectives. Five rolled around, and they were woken as normal, with a bowl of gruel slid through a special grate in the bars. They spent the mornings in their cells, talking quietly. The thugs were on edge, skittish. 

Another good sign.

Yard Time came, and they were released. Antony didn't want to risk being roped in with Steve, so you two only shared a nod from across the Yard. It was just about time to go back inside when gunshots rang out. Luckily, they weren’t directed towards the prisoners. Chaos nearly broke loose, and if Steve and Antony were able to give it a little shove, it would.

A hook came over one section of the wall. One woman with bright red hair climbed over the wall and started taking down guards. Suddenly a man with – Were those wings? – soared over the wall. He dropped an armful of weapons into The Yard. 

Despite the confusion, Steve picked them up and started distributing them to Antony and a select few others who would fight even without your approval. Now the shots from the turrets were turned inwards, towards the armed prisoners.

“Y/n, get somewhere safe,” Steve said, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” You felt rooted to the spot, like the night you’d been abducted by Hydra. Years of their torture had reminded you that it is better to never try than to try, fail, and be punished. Steve could see you weren’t okay, but he also had to fight. 

For a while you simply observed the battle unfold. Prisoners were vastly outnumbered, and scarcely any had weapons. 

You watched as they took down one guard, just for two more thugs to take his place. You watched as countless men were mowed down. You watched as more prisoners and guards swarmed out of the building. You watched as Antony took a shot to the head. 

Finally, the shock of seeing your second father-figure killed by Hydra broke something. It wasn’t a complete break, and it wasn’t a clean break, but it broke though the imposed compliance just enough for you to rally others around you to fight with whatever strength was left.

Somehow, it worked. The last push was enough to keep the battle going long enough for more of Steve’s friends to arrive. A huge aircraft with the SHIELD logo on it flew overhead, and dropped off numerous agents. Seconds later, the southern wall fell, and the prisoners started streaming out while SHIELD agents poured in.

You decided to go with the flow, and for the first time since you were two, you left the prison’s grounds. You didn’t really know what to do, and you wandered towards a jet full of injured people. 

The woman with red hair who had first scaled the wall was brought in with a deep gash in her leg. Medics were too busy with other, more serious, cases to deal with her. She was placed in the seat next to you. She must have noticed you staring.

“Trust me, it’s worse than it looks,” She said through gritted teeth.

“It has scraped the bone.” You said.

“Maybe.”

“That wasn’t a question. It did.” You glanced at her, and held up your hands. “May I take a look?”

“Feel free.” She closed her eyes in pain, still trying to keep up the facade that it didn’t hurt. “I’m Natasha by the way.”

“I’m Y/n.” You placed your hands on her leg, and the familiar warmth emanated from them. 

“Holy cow, that feels so much better.” She gasped, opening her eyes, “How…?” She saw that your leg now had an identical gash, which was healing visibly. 

“Thank you. I’m gonna fight, but I’ll be back, Y/n.”

The fight continued, and before the sun went down they had taken the prison. You had spent your time staring at nothing, trying to block out the sounds and occasionally healing one or two people. After what felt simultaneously like a second and eternity, Steve and the woman returned. Nat… Nash… Natasha.

They seated themselves near  you, but not suffocatingly close. While they were gone, someone gave you a blanket, and you'd wrapped it around yourself. A separate person had given you a bottle of water, and you occasionally sipped from it. Once the jet took off, you realized how tired you were, and lay down, utilizing the seats next to you.

You woke up at what would have been two AM to take another drink of water. Natasha and Steve were awake. Maybe they never went to sleep. It was hard to recall anything in the haze.

“Hey kid,” Natasha said, “How was your nap?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” She said, “Do you wanna talk? We’re only an hour out from Avengers Tower.”

“Sure.” You said.

“What’s the first thing you want to eat once we get back?” Steve asked. “I could go for some pizza.”

“I think my sister’s making mac’n’cheese.” Natasha said.

“I want those… What are they called?” You said, “The noodles where you pour hot water in and wait three minutes?

“Cup noodles?” Natasha offered.

“Yeah, those.” You said, “It’s the last thing I remember eating before… Y’know.”

“Y/n, did I ever officially introduce you to Natasha Romanova?” Steve changed the subject, “She’s one of the Avengers.” Throughout the next hour the three of you talked, but they always clumsily steered the conversation away from families and your time at the Hydra prison.

By the time you arrived at Avengers Tower, the other planes had broken off to go to other bases. Steve had radioed ahead so there would be a room set up for you. Natasha was walking you there, but on your way you two passed the living room, where most of the Avengers were hanging out, so you stopped to be introduced.

    Spider-Man, Yelena, the sister Natasha mentioned, who did indeed have mac’n’cheese, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, who was a robot, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda’s brother, Clint Barton, the cool arrow man, James Rhodes, who was paralyzed from the waist down, and Thor, a literal god. 

They also mentioned three other guys. One named Bucky, who was very antisocial and probably in his room. Along with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, who were both workaholics and were in their labs nine times out of ten.

Natasha gave them all a brief explanation of your powers, and that you’d be living with them from now on. Then she walked you to your room and gave you a short tour.

“Shirts here, bottoms here,” She said, pointing to drawers, “There’s your bed, a desk, a chair, and for some reason there’s a beanbag chair in the corner. Over there’s the door to your bathroom. I suggest you shower and come to the kitchen for dinner. We have more cup noodles as you can possibly imagine.”

She was about to leave when she whirled around, “Oh, I almost forgot! If you need help with anything just say ‘FRIDAY’ and the robot that lives in the walls can help you out with it.”

With that she was gone. With help from FRIDAY, you managed to figure out the shower. Your first shower with warm water in over a decade! After that you dried off and put on some sweatpants and a loose-fitting tee. You wandered over to the bed, just to see how soft it was. That turned into a half-hour-long nap. 

“Hey FRIDAY?” You asked, “How do I get down to the kitchen?” You arrived and saw Steve sitting with Sam. Waiting on the table was a styrofoam cup of noodles. You could definitely get used to living here.

Part 2 here!

#avengers x y/n #avengers x teen!reader #platonic steve x y/n #platonic natasha x y/n #angst? the usual sad backstory any good y/n has #writeblr #writign #writing #avengers fan fic?? #I dunno #gn!reader #steve x teen!reader #nat x teen!reader

[bethanychrisevans]

https://my.w.tt/bjqBMYovIab

You should check out my fan fiction, readerxavengers

#mcu #tom hiddleston #chris evans #sebastian stan #marvel #avengers #bucky barnes x reader #reader x avengers #fanfiction

[mariemarvelbear]

Aminta

Avengers x Reader

🌸💞🙈💫Boo note🌸💞🙈💫: Boo! So, hello everyone. This is my second series about the Avengers. Give me some feedback! Love you!Sorry for the wrong grammars and spellings Please send me any request that you have with any MARVEL character.

Note: This story happens before Avengers Infinity War.(GIFS not mine.Credits to the owners.)

Warning: Angst.Slow burn angst.Physical Abuse.Mention of Blood.Torture.Swearing.Beating. Please read at your own risk.

Summary: Aminta Bravi (Reader), is one of the members of the Earth’s mightiest heroes. During the day, Aminta ‘Minnie’ saves the world from all evil. But she cannot even save herself from her very own monster.

Pairing: ReaderxSteve Rogers ReaderxAvengers

Part 1

#Avengers #avengers fanfiction #Avenger #The avengers fanfiction #Steve Rogers #tony stark #avengers endgame #angst fanfic #marvel angst #marvel fanfic angst #avengers fanfiction angst #angst

[minnie-marvel]

Hi, can you help me find some fics where the reader is having a nightmare and one of the avengers (including loki and bucky and Peter of course) please?❤

Hi there Honeybunny!!!! Okay, so the account @avengers-fics has a really good arsenal of nightmare!readerxavengers fics as well as a lot of really cute headcanons!!! I actually saw one of their posts a while ago and loved it a lot but stupid me forgot to follow them so thanks for asking me this or I wouldn’t have found them again!!!

Right now they have a nightmare series (i’m not sure if its finished i believe it is??) that is basically compiled with a bunch of x readers (with variations, like tony’s is where he is your brother) with what you’re looking for!!

Bucky Loki  Thor Tony Natasha

Happy reading Honeybunny!!!!

#fic ref

[mrgrant9559-blog]

Fun fact I literally just followed you only after reading that awesome male readerxavengers fic, dont be worried about it I thought it was simply fantastic!

OMG WHAT?! THANK YOU!!!

[verybadatwriting]

White Fang

ReaderxPeterParker, Teen!ReaderxAvengers

Background: Pre-civil war. Pretend that Spidey-Boy joins the team on Christmas break before the Sokovia Accords are even thought of.  I think I kept it gn, but please tell me if I mess it up anywhere.

Warnings: Reader starts the story off not getting enough food, and is thus dangerously underweight. Unhealthy eating habits. 

(Slight rant: I feel that as a group we don’t recognize the dangers of being underweight as much as we should. Part of what made me write the reader this way was my sister’s ongoing struggle with getting to a healthy weight. I modeled many of the reader’s eating habits after hers.)

Gn!reader

Word count: 3,753

    A few rumpled up newspapers and some wrappers were the only contents of the trashcan. Not to worry, you still had the dumpsters behind the restaurants to raid. Besides, it never hurt to check. Once you had found three rotisserie chickens, still in the packaging! You couldn’t help but wonder what the story behind them was.

    The cold night air sent a chill down your spine, and you decided it was best to switch forms. A shiver descended your spine once more, this time it was warm and familiar. Your hair turned white, and covered your whole body as it grew and contorted to the shape of a wolf. Your wolf form grew until you could walk above street signs with no difficulty.

     Yours wasn’t a majestic form, with your scraggly, matted fur, and bones peeking from beneath thin layers of muscle, but it functioned, and it was significantly warmer than a being human. On a cold New York night like this, it was needed.

    Long legs leapt through the streets, weaving through the shadows. You stuck to the quieter streets, and eventually found your way into the right alleys. First stop was behind Delmar’s Deli-Grocery. 

    You transformed back into a human, and began rummaging. You tossed any edible-looking stuff out of the dumpsters onto the cold ground. It was covered in a thin layer of snow by the time you had finished. The dilemma you faced was whether to eat small bits as you went from source to source, or save it all to eat at the end of the night.

    Measuring how late it was, you decided to munch on what you’d gotten from Delmar’s before crossing Central Park to get back home. On the way back you’d probably pick up a few extra bites. Internally accepting this plan, you transformed into the wolf form, gobbled down the pile, and sprinted towards your home.

    A salty taste stayed in your mouth as you bent around a corner and into the park. You smelled something in one of the trashcans, and were split on whether it was worth transforming again. At that moment, you heard a noise behind you. Turning quickly, you saw a strange teen sitting on a lamppost. 

    He wore a bright red hoodie, a red mask with goggles, a blue shirt and pants, red shoes with knee-high socks, and mechanical looking gloves. On his hoodie, there was the outline of a bug. A spider maybe?

    You weren’t nervous when people saw you. It was mostly crack-heads out this late round where you were. Nobody would believe them if they said a huge wolf was stalking the city. Initially, you assumed this was just a very athletic crack-head. When he launched some sort of rope from his wrists and swung to the ground, you realized you may have misjudged him.

    “Woah…” He whispered in amazement, “What the heck are you?” He reached a hand towards you, but you growled and shrunk back slightly.

    “Oop! Sorry about that.” Without taking his eyes off you, he fished around in his pocket until he found a stick of beef jerky. 

"Here," he said, tossing it towards you. Hesitantly, you picked it up and ate it. 

“How on earth did a wolf get so huge? You look pretty skinny too… Are you eating alright?” He continued speaking.

A moment later, you shifted to a more relaxed position. Neither of you was going to hurt the other, and you both knew that. For a few minutes the two of you sat there. The boy quietly rambled on about how his life was.

Hours later, you stood to leave.

“Hey, wait. Um.. Could we meet up again tomorrow night?” After considering for a moment, you nodded as he hastily added, “I’m Spider-Man by the way. Yeah.” You nodded once more, and ran into the night.

The next morning you quietly got ready for school, so as to not wake Kara. For the past six months, you’d been living with a couple named Lindsey and Walter Miller. They were good foster parents, and thankfully they tried. It wasn’t their fault that you needed more calories than most humans could physically consume in a day.

“Hey there Y/n.” Lindsey said, “Did Kara wake up?” 

You shook your head. 

“Very good.” She said, passing you two muffins. “We were sent an extra. I made the executive decision you would get it. The last thing we need is a fight over a muffin, am I right?” 

You nodded.

“You ready for school?” Lindsey asked, “Need anything else?” 

I’m missing my Physics book. You signed. 

“Unless it’s on the miscellaneous shelf, I can’t help you with that.” Lindsey turned and went back to packing the little kid’s lunches. 

Most of the kids in the Miller House weren’t teens yet. Kara was seven, Nathaniel was eight, Keyon was five, and Finn was three. You and Kara shared a room, which was difficult when you had to stay up late studying (or sneak out for some late-night food-gathering), and especially since you woke up for school at different times.

Waving goodbye to your foster parents, you walked out the door. In the minute it took you to go from the kitchen to the front porch, you had already finished the muffins. They weren’t small muffins either. Despite that, you were still hungry.

At school you had a hard time focusing because of it. You often zoned out, and missed vital parts of lessons. Sometimes when you stood up dots would descend from the sides of your vision, and you’d have to sit back down again. Coughing usually helped, along with focusing on a specific muscle and flexing. From your limited research, this could be from low blood sugar or low iron. 

Either one could be solved if you didn’t have to eat for a gigantic carnivore. Even with all the negative side effects, your wolf form was worth it. Especially if it meant you’d get to know that athletic crack-head more.

    Your whole school was decorated for the holidays. Well, as decorated as they could afford, which meant a few cardstock snowflakes the 5th graders made hanging from the ceiling, and posters of snowmen scattered about the walls.

    Bungling the first half of the day, you made it to lunch. Since you were eligible for free lunch, you got that. You also brought home lunch. Because you were already so ravenously hungry, you couldn’t help but gulp down the food. You knew there was a choking hazard. You knew it wasn’t a good way to eat. You also knew that if food was delayed much longer, it wouldn’t be pretty.

    All too quickly, lunch was over and your food was eaten. Physics was next, and you still hadn’t found your book. That was alright. Probably. (It wasn’t.)

    After the disappointing Physics period, and another boring class, you got to English. From all the way down the hall you could smell the aroma of hot chocolate and other sweets.

    Your English teacher made it a habit to bring in hot cocoa at least once a week in December. “To be festive!” You found it less difficult to focus, especially on the days like today where she brought snacks. The boost in blood sugar probably had something to do with that.

    With that class over, you had officially finished another week of school. You found it boring, partially because it was, partially because it was difficult to form friendships when you didn’t speak their language. Especially difficult when you don’t speak at all.

    You could physically talk, but the mental aspect of it wouldn’t cooperate. You could speak to Kara when you were both alone. Somehow the anxiety dissipated. 

    Skidding on the icy ground, you arrived at Central Park four minutes before midnight. You went to the exact lamppost you had first seen him on and waited. Six minutes later, a red-clad figure swung into view.

    “Cool, you showed up.” He said, “Not that I expected you to flake or anything! Uh… How was your day?” A moment of silence passed before he realized. 

    “Oh, shoot, can you talk?”

    You shook your head.

    “Okay… I’ll have to stick to ‘yes or no’ questions then. Also, I brought more food.” He put a round container of deli meats on the ground between the two of you. “I don’t know what kind you like so I just got an assorted jumble.” He opened the container and slid it closer. It was fairly sizable, at least on the human scale. Nevertheless, you were grateful and ate it.

    Spider-Man swung himself up onto the lamppost, and lowered himself down upside down while squatting. The look you gave him was so confused that he had to explain. 

    “These shoes aren’t really made for the snow. And I don’t want to get frostbite. I love New York, even if it does try to kill me a lot. What about you?”

    You nodded.

    “Do you like the Christmas decorations here?”

    You nodded again. Your conversation continued for a while. He talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. He seemed very interested in your life, especially how you managed to live this long without arousing suspicions from Animal Control.

    “How do you hide yourself during the day? Do you turn human?

    You nodded.

    “Oh my gosh!” He said, “So it’s possible I’ve met you before without even knowing?”

    You shook your head and bopped your nose. After hesitating, Spider-Man took a guess.

    “You… would have… smelled me?” 

    Nod.

    “That’s…” You braced yourself, ready for the disgust you were sure was coming.

    “So…

    “Cool! Can you remember every person you’ve smelled? How does your human nose process those scents? Is the nose fully wolf and fully human at the same time?” The little guy was fully geeking out when your stomach grumbled. 

    “Oh… Is that why you come out here? To find food?”

    Yet again, you nodded. The two of you set off on your trek around the city, to all the closed restaurants and grocery stores you could think of. Spider-Man hopped inside the dumpsters and chucked food out since you couldn’t fit inside as a wolf. And you definitely weren’t going to transform back into a human around someone. 

You met up nightly for weeks after that. With this team effort it was much easier to keep yourself fed, and your grades reflected that. Rumors eventually started to abound that either the rat population was out of hand, or there was a large creature stalking the trashcans of New York.

Sometimes on your walks you’d come across someone in distress. You allowed Spider-Man to take the fame, and opted to stay in the shadows. Occasionally, he’d need assistance, and you’d step in. These happened just often enough for there to be a few credible sources about you.

It was three days before Christmas when Spider-Man said the following.

“My Aunt May has plans for Christmas Eve and Christmas. Tomorrow’s the last time I’ll see you for a few days.”

You sat up abruptly after hearing this. Logically it wasn’t that long, and there was always a lot of food during the holidays, so you might not need to go foraging, but you’d still miss him. Over the weeks you’d created a strong bond, despite only knowing each other via your superpowered sides. He’d also given you your name: White Fang.

    Maybe that’s what made your friendship work. Another person who could understand, and who you wouldn’t have to worry about spilling the beans. 

    The next night you got there ten minutes early to add a buffer between your arrival and that of Spider-Man. You transformed back into a human and set down a tupperware container of homemade spider-shaped cookies. On top you placed an even smaller box with the label: ‘To Spider-Man, From White Fang.’

    After the boxes were situated, you shifted back to wolf form to wait. Moments later, your favorite arachnid came out of the darkness and landed on his signature lamppost.

    “Hey Fang!” He said, “I dunno if you celebrate, but I brought you a Christmas present!” He hopped down, placed a cellophane wrapped hunk of meat on the ground, and unwrapped it. Then he noticed the boxes in the snow.

    “Are these for me? And can I open them?”

    You nodded twice. He went over to inspect them. He picked up the box, and opened it. Inside there was a small spider-shaped trinket. It was metallic and opened to reveal a small compartment. 

    “Woah…” He whispered to himself then turned to you, “This is so cool! I’m assuming the cookies are for us to share?” He glanced at you as you nodded. “The meat is for you, of course, and I also got you a necklace.” He opened a box he had in his pocket, and held the contents up so you could see.

    He held a tiny silver wolf on a thin chain. You did a little jump of joy, showing how much you appreciated it. The two of you spent the rest of the night hanging out as usual. Spider-Man left around 3, and once he was gone you transformed back into a human to scoop up the cookie container and put on his gift to you.

When the two of you met up next. Spider-Man had a new suit, and wouldn’t stop talking about the Avengers.

“Mr. Stark brought me to the tower, and I got to meet Captain America and the rest of the team! I’m also part of them now. I think. I could be wrong, gotta check. Their last mission was to fight the huge robots – You know, the ones that lifted up that one city? –  and they told me all about it!”

    “How could you be so reckless?” Lindsey said. “This could get my fostering license taken away!”

    “Lin, calm down.” Mr. Miller said, “Let Y/n explain what they were doing.” He handed you a pen and pencil. You froze and couldn’t think of an excuse. How do you explain that you snuck out at night because you had a superpower that required massive amounts of food? You can’t explain that without sounding crazy.

    “At least tell me it wasn’t drugs.” Lindsey said, “If it’s boys – or girls – I can deal with that. But drugs would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

    “Y/n?” Mr. Miller said, “Is it drugs?”

    You looked both of them in the eyes and shook your head. The two foster parents breathed a sigh of relief. 

    “You’re still in big trouble kid.” Mr. Miller reminded you, “We’ll be checking in on you throughout the night, okay?” You nodded sadly, accepting that your nights of food and friends would be long gone. You’d never get to see the Spider-Man again.

    The first day back from break, all throughout your commute you kept seeing the same man out of the corner of your eye. You just shook off the feeling. The next two days, you saw him, but never enough to get a description past ‘has an eyepatch’ (which you couldn’t really do much of anything with). Finally, on the third day back, you only saw him on the morning commute.

    On your way home you still kept a look out, glancing behind yourself. You didn’t see him. As you reached the Miller House, you breathed a sigh of relief. Jangling the keys in the door, you opened it. Your horror was immeasurable when you saw the man sitting in your living room, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Miller.

    “Oh hi Y/n!” Lindsey said. “Mr. Fury was just telling us something very strange. I was wondering if you’d like to weigh in on it.”

    “Hello Mx. Y/l/n.” Mr. Fury stood and extended a hand. “I’d like to talk to you about the Avengers.”

You took his hand.

“Y/n,” Mr. Miller said, “If what Nick here was telling us is true, I’m sorry for punishing you for sneaking out.” 

With a shaking hand, you pulled a piece of paper out of your pocket and wrote.

What, exactly, did he tell you?

“I know about your ability.” Fury said, “And now they do too.”

“He was wondering if you would be willing to be adopted by the Avengers.” Mr. Miller said, “If you don’t want to, nobody will force you. Whichever decision you make, we will stand by you.”

“Both of us will.” Lindsey added.

“At Avengers Tower you’ll get a proper diet for a wolf the size of yours." Fury said, "And all your material needs will be met.”

Are there any others my age? You signed. 

“Y/n wants to know if there will be other people their age.” Lindsey said.

“Yes, there’s one I believe.” Fury said, “But he doesn’t live there. You’ll still go to school, you’ll just live with the Avengers and occasionally go on missions.”

I promise I’ll think about it. You signed, first tell me why you were following me.

“Y/n will think about it, and wants to know why– What what?” Mr. Miller stopped, “Repeat that Y/n?”

Why was he following me?

“Mr. Fury, they want to know why you were following them.” He continued, “And frankly, I do too.”

“We were keeping surveillance on them.” Fury replied simply, “We were unsure if they were a threat to those around them.” 

“Okay… I suppose that explains it.” Lindsey said, “In the future, keep in mind that trailing underage people isn’t the best course of action.”

“If we had another option, we would have taken it.” He stood up and walked towards the door. 

“Y/n” He turned, handing you a paper, “These numbers will get you in contact with me, Maria Hill – a trusted advisor – and Tony Stark. When you move into the Tower, he will be the person introducing you. I hope to see you soon.” 

With that he turned and walked out the door. The next few days you and the Millers discussed the best course of action. Eventually they came to the conclusion that you should be adopted by the Avengers. 

While you were excited, you were a little sad. Leaving homes was never easy, no matter how temporary the stay was. The Millers were a nice family, much better than some of your previous families, and you were very close with Kara. 

Three days later the papers were signed. Normally it takes much longer to even receive the documents, but when a billionaire wants something, it gets fast tracked. A day after the signing, you packed your bags, said your tearful goodbyes, and climbed into the limousine sent for you. To your surprise, Tony Stark was in the passenger seat.

“Hey kid.”

You waved in reply.

“How are you?”

You nodded.

“Not much of a talker, eh?”

I’ve got selective mutism. You signed. 

“I have no clue what you just said.” Stark said. “I’ll have to get an interpreter… FRIDAY? Could-” You cut him off by handing him a paper.

I have selective mutism. That’s what I signed. 

“Ok, I’ll be sure to tell the team when I introduce you.”

Once you got to the Tower, an assistant came outside to get your bags. He had a cart ready and everything. You had a duffel bag, and a backpack, both of which you preferred to keep on your person. 

Stark led you up to the living room, where the rest of the team had been instructed to gather. 

“Hello everyone,” He said, “This is Y/n, our newest recruit. They’re deaf, so be patient.”

I’m not deaf, numbskull. You signed. To your surprise, a man in the corner let out a small laugh.

“They’re not deaf, Stark.” He said.

“What makes you think that, Barton?” Stark asked. “They told me themselves.”

“They just signed that they’re not deaf. And they called you a numbskull.”

“... Moving on… Y/n that’s Steve, Sam, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Rhodes, Vision, and the Maximoff twins.” You nodded.

Only Natasha and I know ASL. Clint signed. If you wanna talk behind people’s backs, it’s the best way around here.

I’ll keep that in mind. You replied.

“Peter’s around your age.” Stark continued, “And besides for him the Twins are our newest recruits. If it’s okay with you, I’ll open the floor to questions.” You nodded.

“What are your powers?” Steve asked.

“They turn into a giant wolf.” Stark replied for you. You noticed that Peter’s eyes widened slightly. Taking a small sniff, you tested the air to see if there was anyone you knew. Just one.

After what felt like hours, the questions were over, your room was found, and you were peacefully on your phone in the living room. Peter walked in and sat across from you.

“Hi!” He said. You waved and put down your phone.

“So… This is going to sound really weird, but… do you – were you the same wolf – what I’m trying to ask is.. Did you hang out in the park with Spider-Man?” Recognition dawning, you nodded and pulled up the necklace Spider-Man gave you. At the exact same moment, Peter took the trinket you’d given to Spider-Man out of his backpack.

“Holy shit.” He said.

“Holy shit indeed.” You replied with a voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used in a very long time.

“What the!” He jumped off the couch. “You can talk?!”

“I always could, physically.”

"Why do you sign to the team?"

“The mental components just don’t add up for some situations.” You paused, “I think it also has something to do with how I meet people. Meeting first in wolf form seems to allow me to speak with them… These are all still guesses, even I have no clue why it doesn’t click for some people.”

“This is so cool.” Peter marveled under his breath. “Can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

“Okay. These past few days, you… didn’t meet up with me…” His voice was laced with pure sadness and confusion, a far cry from what it was a second ago.

“I’m so sorry Spidey!” You said, “My foster-parents found out I was sneaking out, and I didn’t want to tell them about the whole ‘superpowered wolf’ thing. They enforced that I was in bed from 11pm to 6am. I would have kept meeting up with you if I could have. I’m sorry.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Peter said, “I thought that you didn’t like me anymore.”

“I don’t think I could ever not like you, Spidey.”

#marvel #y/n x peter parker #avengers x teen!reader #marvel x reader #avengers x y/n #avengers fan fic?? #selective mutism #i hope i did a god job representing selective mutism #prolly not tho #I'm sorry this wasn't out over the weekend. #i was busy binging wednesday #it was pretty good. #gn!reader

[verybadatwriting]

The Healer 2

Teen!ReaderxAvengers

Summary: Y/n adjusts to life in the tower and the people they share it with.

Warnings: Bad sleep schedule. References to past trauma (kidnapping, murder of parents, etc.)

Gn!reader

Word count: 2,477

    Steve and you sat at the table, having just finished breakfast, and he outlined the plan for today. Having spent 14 years with a strictly regimented schedule, you found it helpful to have an idea what was happening on any given day.

    “In the morning I’d like you to meet someone, my friend Bucky. He’s a bit shy, but I think the two of you will get along. Then around noon Wanda wanted to take you out for lunch,” Steve said, “If you would like to go.”

    “That sounds nice.” You replied, “And after that?”

    “I don’t have any plans for the afternoon, if you and Wanda want to have an afternoon out, that’s fine by me. Be back by dinner though, there is a movie night afterwards.”

    “What’s that?”

    “We all get into comfortable clothing and watch a movie with a bunch of snacks.” Wanda said, as she popped into the room, “I think it’s one of our best Saturday traditions. Unless Stark chooses the movie.”

    “I can’t wait!” You said, “Today’s gonna be great.” Steve left the room, leaving you and Wanda to chat. After you’d finalized your plans for the afternoon, FRIDAY delivered an invitation to join Steve and his friend in the living room. You said goodbye to Wanda, and skipped to the living room.

    Steve sat facing the doorway, and across the coffee table from him was his friend Bucky. He had his back towards you. All you could see was his shoulder-length hair and the faint glint of metal on his left shoulder.

    “Ah, Y/n,” Steve said, “This is Bucky.” The second man turned around and – to your horror – you recognized his face. Thousands of thoughts rushed through your mind. Pure terror made you turn heel and sprint away. You dashed through the corridors in a confusing zig-zag, sprinting up stairs, until you found yourself on a deserted floor of the Tower. You looked for the most hidden spot and closed yourself in.

    A few minutes later, you heard FRIDAY ask where you were. You dared not speak, even to her. You heard people moving around the building, presumably searching for you. At one point Steve went room by room on the same floor as you. He opened the closet you were in, and peeked inside. 

    “Oh hey there.” Steve said, “Are you okay?” He took your silence as a no.

    “That’s fine. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” He asked, “I just wanna make sure you know you’re safe.”

    “I-I…” you choked up, “I knew him.”

    “Bucky?” Steve seemed taken aback, “When did you meet him?”

    “The first time, I think I was about two,” You said, “Was when HYDRA captured me. It was a pitch black fall night. Cold too. Somehow my parents managed to convince me to run into the woods and hide before HYDRA got inside. There was a small cave, barely wide enough for a toddler to fit inside of, and I wedged myself in.

    “I heard the shots that silenced my family. They were crisp and clear. Then his footsteps came crunching across the leaves, closer and closer. He found the cave, and looked inside. His eyes were empty. Lifeless. Nothing behind them.” You shuddered.

    “He reached in, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and… And…”

    “It’s ok Y/n.” Steve said. “That sounds terrifying. He’s not the same man.”

    “People don’t change that much.” You replied.

    “No,” Steve said, “His mind isn’t the same. Back then he was under the complete command of HYDRA. They called him the Winter Soldier and wiped his memories. Whatever they said, he did. They controlled him like a puppet.”

    “If they completely controlled him, how did he get to be here?” You asked suspiciously.

    “Three years ago HYDRA sent him out to kill me,” Steve said, “Seeing me sparked some recognition, since we’d been childhood friends. After we battled he ran away from HYDRA. It was just last year that I finally found him again.”

    “I see.” You said, “Steve… does he remember what he– no, The Soldier – did?”

    “Yes and no.” Steve said, “The details are fuzzy for him, but he says he remembers every single person he’d hurt.”

    “Oh God…” You murmured, “That must be horrible… Remembering so many you’ve injured… Knowing it was your hands, and yet not your mind…”

    Both of you sat for a few minutes until FRIDAY interrupted.

    “Message from Sam Wilson: Has anyone found them?”

    “FRIDAY,” Steve said to her, “Please tell them that I found them.” Steve walked you to your room.

    “Lunch is planned for an hour from now,” He said, “If you still want to go with Wanda.”

    “Yeah…” You replied, “I’ll be ready by then.”

    You and Wanda ate at a little hole-in-the-wall Shawarma restaurant. Afterwards, you settled at a park and relaxed for a bit. You were seated on a bench underneath a tree and shared a bag of candied fruits. The conversation drifted from topic to topic, most of them were light, like what your favorite flavor of ice cream was.

    Eventually it drifted to the events of earlier that day. You explained the situation to Wanda, your abduction fourteen years ago and the shock of seeing him today.

    “I think I understand.” Wanda said, “You have every right to feel angry at him.”

    “I… I don’t know if I am. Angry, that is. I definitely feel something. I don't know what exactly it is.”

    “If you’re okay with it, Y/n, I could go through your mind with you.” She suggested, “I do this often when people need help figuring out emotions.”

    “No, thanks.” You said, “I’ve almost got it. I think I just need time to think.”

    “That’s normal.” Wanda reassured you, “Whatever emotions you decide you’re feeling, I assure you you’re more than within your right to feel them. Angry, sad, scared. Happy even.”

    “Really?”

    “Yeah,” She said nonchalantly, “They’re your emotions.”

    “Yeah… I guess you’re right.” You thought for a moment. “Are you going to the movie night?”

    “Of course!” Wanda said, “What about you?”

    “I think I’ll go.” 

    “That’s great, do you wanna sit by me or Steve?”

    “Depends on who’s holding the snacks.” You smiled.

    “Good point…” Wanda said, “I might have to rethink the seating arrangements…” You and Wanda hung out at the park until the bag of candied fruits was empty. The two of you drifted back to the Tower, about an hour before dinner. Sam was making dinner, and the smell guided you to the kitchen.

    “Hey Sam.” You said, “What’s cooking?” 

    “Very funny.” He grinned, adding spices to a bubbling pot. 

    “I wasn’t joking. What’s for dinner?”

    “Oh, you were serious.” Sam said, “It’s jambalaya.”

    “Cool.”

    “Anything else?” 

    “Eh.” You shrugged, and after a moment asked, “Have you talked with Steve’s friend much?”

    “Bucky? Yeah, a little.” He said, “We’ve gone on half a dozen missions together. He’s not very talkative at first, once you get to know him he’s kind of an idiot. I understand if you don’t wanna interact with him. Steve didn’t tell me exactly what happened between you two, but I know something happened.”

    “Yeah, the Winter Soldier kidnapped me when I was two.” You said, “The Soldier’s not really him, is it? So it would be mean of me to hold it against him.”

    “Trauma manifests itself in different ways,” Sam put the lid back on the pot, “If seeing his face is what sets you off, then you probably should stay away from each other. On the other hand, if knowing they’re different people is enough to make you okay with him, that’s cool too. Now scoot on out of here! I’ve got a lot of cooking to do!”

    You left the kitchen, meandered through the dining room, then went downstairs to one of the quieter living rooms. Loki, who was apparently a god, was seated in the nook by the window.

    “Hello.” He said, barely glancing up from his book.

    “Hi.” You said, “What’re you reading?”

    “Carlo Goldoni.”

    “Which one?”

    “The Servant of Two Masters.”

    “Oh cool! Antony really liked that one. He even taught me some of the lines.”

    “Anthony Stark read Goldoni?” Loki asked skeptically.

    “No, not Anthony, Antony.” You shook your head, “He was like a father to me, back when I was imprisoned.”

    “What happened to him?” Loki asked, as he marked his page and set down his book.

“Oh you know…” You shrugged, “Death got him at the battle when we escaped.”

“I’m so sorry little one.”

“Eh, not the first time I’ve lost a father-figure.” You said, tears welling up. “Has to happen sooner or later, so why not just get it out of the way?” You wiped your tears with your sleeve, since you’d failed at holding them in.

Visibly unsure what to do, Loki stood up.

“Uh. Would you like a… hug?” He finally asked. You nodded and hugged him. Loki sat back down to be eye-to-eye with you.

“Y/n,” He said, “I need you to know that your childhood has not been normal. Most people don’t have to lose their parents until they are middle-aged. You’ve lost three parents before turning 18. You’ve fought against international evils. You have been through more physical injuries than most people go through in a lifetime. You have been through more than your fair share of pain, physical and mental. You are strong.”

“Thank you.” You said. You cried a bit more. Once you stopped Loki spoke again.

“If it’s any consolation,” He said, “My sister is the Goddess of Death. I’m sure she will be welcoming to such a noble fighter as Antony was.” His tone shifted to playfully menacing, “If you ever tell Stark, my brother, or anyone else that I hugged you, I will deny it. I have a reputation to uphold.” You laughed a little, then read with him until dinnertime. 

After everyone had eaten their fill of jambalaya, and had their desert of bananas foster, they migrated to the living room. Instead of watching in one of the many movie theaters in the Tower, the living room was the chosen area. The blankets and pillows could be stacked as high as needed, and snacks were only a little ways away.

You ended up sitting on a couch between Wanda and Steve. Steve had buttered popcorn while Wanda had a bowl of gummies. The first movie was Castle in the Sky. Right before it started, you noticed Bucky walk by the door. He contemplated joining, and decided against it when he saw you.

The movie was a blast, even though the team didn’t have the best history with robots and flying cities. Especially ones that threaten to end the world. Around midnight the movies wrapped up, and you headed to bed. Stark wanted to stay up later. Ms. Potts convinced him to get some sleep. (“Anthony Howard Stark, if you don’t get to bed right this instant I will remove your access to the lab.”)

You crawled into bed but only got two and a half hours of sleep. That’s when you instinctively woke up to get water. Your legs felt like they needed a little stretch, so you walked down to the kitchen. 

Over the first two nights you had memorized the path and the room, so you didn’t need to turn on the lights until you needed to get a glass down. This meant that you didn’t see the man on the floor as you passed him by. You flicked the light on, and he sat bolt-upright.

“Ah!” You said, “Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky mumbled, “You didn’t expect to see someone in the kitchen at two thirty in the morning. I’ll leave.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, “You’re free to go wherever you please.” He sat on the floor for a few more moments, and you drank a couple glasses of water.

“Why are you on the floor anyway?” You asked.

“Uh…” Bucky hesitated, “The bed feels too soft.” He admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah, like I’m going to fall right through it.”

“Huh,” You shrugged, “It was the exact opposite for me. I absolutely adore everything soft and comfortable.” Silence fell, and you sat on the countertop.

“I’m sorry.” He eventually said, “I’m a monster… I’ve killed so many… Your parents, too.”

“If it’s any comfort,” You said, “You’ve never been anything but kind to me.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, “I literally killed your parents.”

“Was it really you? Steve told me about the Winter Soldier and brainwashing. At least the way he described it, they took your mind away.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“Do you remember abducting me?”

“I remember faces…” He said, “Not much else.”

“The Soldier pulled up outside our house, my parents were watching. They knew something was coming. They pushed me out the back door and insisted I go hide in the woods. That’s what I did. Pushed myself into a thin crevice in the rocks. While running I dropped my stuffed animal, a small elephant.

“When the Soldier found me, his eyes were empty. He couldn’t reach far enough into the cave to grab me. The elephant on the ground caught his attention, and he picked it up. For a split second there was something in his eyes and he offered it to me. He whispered ‘It’s okay, you’re okay,’ and promised me another elephant if I left the cave. I crawled towards him, his eyes went empty again, and he grabbed me.”

“So I abducted you as a small child?”

“No. The Soldier did. For that moment you had your mind, when there was something in your eyes, your first instinct was to comfort a scared child.” You both sat in silence for another moment.

“My sister was once stuck in between two houses.” Bucky recalled, “Nobody could reach her, she was terrified. Finally, I had to convince her to come out by offering her a doll.”

“That does sound awfully similar to what happened to me. Maybe that’s how you were able to break away, even if just for a moment.”

“Maybe.” 

“I forgive you.” You said, “Even if it doesn’t change anything, I can’t let you believe that I hold any of it against you.”

“Thank you.” His voice cracked. Hearing someone he’d truly hurt forgive him was different than listening to his friend say 'it wasn’t you.' There was no denial that someone had been hurt. It wasn’t a friend trying to comfort a friend. This was a real person he had deeply affected telling him it’s in the past.

You slipped off the counter and went back upstairs to bed, leaving him with a “Goodnight Bucky.”

“‘Night Y/n.” As soon as you’d turned the corner his silent tears fell. It was freeing for both of you. Forgiving and being forgiven, equally liberating, but in different ways.

Part 1, Part 3

#avengers x teen!reader #marvel #marvel x reader #angst? #some weeks i'll post nothing #others i'll post like twelve times #muahahahaha! #gn!reader

[verybadatwriting]

The Healer 3

Teen!ReaderxAvengers

Summary: Y/n helps heal the Rift caused by the Sokovia Accords.

Warnings: Injuries, medical stuff (no needles)

Notes:

Gn!reader

Word count: 726

Two weeks after you got to the Tower, after you had gotten a hold of the rhythm, you learned most people’s names, and you learned more about the Cap Vs. Tony rift. Today you were hanging out in the living room People Watching. 

It was interesting to observe how people went about their daily life. Even though you knew the Avengers probably weren’t the most normal sample, it was still fascinating. Today you fixated on one guy. He walked with leg braces and seemed bitter towards Steve’s side of the team.

He sat with his back towards you, watching the news. From here you could see the problem was in his spine. The injury glowed gold, as all do. Focusing even more you could make out exactly what the problem was. You closed your eyes and focused on this sixth ‘injury’ sense you had.

Floating in your mind’s eye, you could see the problem in detail. It seemed like some blunt-force trauma had nearly completely crushed the spine, and thus the connections to the legs. It would take about three hours for you to completely fix. For him, it would never heal.

Further investigation led to the realization that he was probably in a lot of pain. Despite still having his legs attached, he was suffering from phantom limb pain. That, along with the stress of relying on his upper body was a life of pain.

“Y/n?” A voice asked. You opened your eyes. The man was still in his chair. 

“Yeah?” You asked,

“Could you grab the remote?”

“Sure.” You hopped up and brought it to him. He switched the channel to some cop drama.

“Okay,” You said during a commercial break, “This is gonna sound a little weird, but please bear with me.”

He nodded, slightly unsure.

“So, has Stark explained my powers?” 

“Not in great detail, why do you ask?”

“Uh…” You hesitated and then quickly replied. “Because I think I can heal you. Also what’s your name?” A moment of shocked silence.

“I thought… Huh. It’s James Rhodes. Are you sure? I’ve had this since over a year ago, it’s not the type of thing that heals. Doesn’t it just transfer to you?” 

“I’ve healed way older stuff than that, it’ll be fine.” You bluffed.

“That would just shift being paralyzed to you.”

“Nope. I can fix almost anything. I once dragged a guy off of death’s doorstep.”

“When would you do it?”

“I was thinking we could head down to the Med Bay right now, unless you have other plans.” And so you two walked to the Med Bay. You wanted to be there so you could update Dr. Cho on his condition, and so that she’d be there in case you needed pain meds or something similar. Also, she’d never seen your powers in action before and was very interested.

She hooked both of you up to machines that monitored seemingly everything. Rhodes laid face down on a medical examination table, and you sat in a raised chair beside him. Slowly you set your hands on his lower back, and you both felt a warm sensation as the injury was lifted from one body and flowed into another. 

“Describe the feeling.” Dr. Cho said, watching the screens, the charts, you and Rhodes all at the same time.

“It’s warm.” Rhodes said.

“Like a glow.” You added.

“It’s like a weight was lifted off my shoulders.” 

"Keep talking." She prompted.

“I can’t feel anything waist-down.” You laughed, “This is up there for one of the weirdest sensations out there. It’s not even tingly like pins and needles. I can feel my spine already repairing itself. Only about two hours and fifty-eight minutes left!” You said cheerfully.

“It’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever felt.” He paused, and clarified, “Feeling after not feeling for so long is weird.”

“Can you sit up, James?” Dr. Cho asked.

“I think so.” And sure enough, he sat up. Dr. Cho looked on in amazement.

“This is a truly wonderful gift, Y/n.” She said.

“Mhmm.” You hummed, in a considerable amount of pain.

 During hour one you regained some feeling in your legs. 

In hour two the pain faded.

Half an hour after that you could stand in place.

The third hour was devoted to re-learning how to walk.

Hour four was spent planning how to best surprise Tony.

Part 2, Part 4

#war machine #james rhodes #james rhodes x teen!reader #avengersxteen!reader #teen reader #avengers #marvel #marvel x teen!reader #avengers x y/n #marvel x reader #medicine #i like how superpowers and the medical world interact #like sometimes superheros just *survive* getting stabbed #or other times they decide to be cool and accidentally release a deadly alien disease #it's short but sweet #gn!reader

[verybadatwriting]

Runaway

ReaderxAvengers, ReaderxPlatonic!Daisy Johnson

Summary Y/n’s burnt out.

Warnings: Creepy fans, cursing, running away, negative self talk, and negative ‘other people talk.’ (What do you call that??)

Gn!reader

Word count: 563

“Hey Y/n.” Steve said, “Today’s a High Intensity Interval Training day. You can grab something to eat after. Then Stark has a charity event he wants us to attend. Can you try to dress nicely this time?” Before you could answer, he left for the gym. You followed close behind.

“Y/n? Ah, there you are.” Stark sighed when he saw you were still wearing sweaty workout gear and finishing breakfast. “Ugh, you’re gonna have to finish that quickly. We leave in an hour.” You left the rest of your breakfast on the table, since you obviously weren’t gonna get a chance to finish it.

Two hours into the event, which felt like a bunch of people telling you to sit up straight and smile for the camera, you managed to get a moment alone. Away from endless reporters and creepily obsessive fans. You leaned against a column and pulled out your phone to see if your friend, Daisy Johnson, wanted to hang out next weekend.

Naturally, that's when the Watchdogs, anti-inhuman fanatics, crashed the party. You, along with the countless other super powered individuals, were easily able to subdue them. During the fight, one of your ‘fans’ attending the event managed to snap a pic of a wardrobe malfunction. The pictures spread like wildfire online. 

Nobody at SHIELD or on the Avengers seemed to care. They were too worried with what they found on one of the anti-inhumans. It was some space-alien-tech. Didn’t really matter to you. Not when your whole public image came crashing down and was replaced with a new one.

After they solved the problem of the Watchdogs and their alien murder weapon, all attention turned to you.

“Y/n!” Stark yelled, “How could you?! This will take ages to sort out! Why didn’t you make sure nobody saw?!”

“You think I wanted this?” You shot back, “You think I said to myself ‘Ya know what I really want right now? A photo of me leaked across the whole internet.’ No! I fucking didn’t! Steve, back me up here.”

“It’s your responsibility to properly represent the team.” Steve said, “And you’ve completely failed at that.”

“See?” Stark cried, “For God’s sake, Y/n, when Steve and I agree, you know it’s bad. Do you know how much this will cost us?”

“Only my reputation.”

​​

In the morning you were gone. You left your room nice and tidy. You took things of sentimental value, money, and clothes. The rest was in neat boxes by the door. You left a note on your bedside table.  It took three days for the press to get ahold of the news. Just from observing the clips on TV, the Avengers seemed distraught. The countless missed calls and unanswered texts to your phone confirmed it.

The one person you felt bad about leaving was Daisy Johnson. She’d helped guide you through joining SHIELD, albeit mostly online. You sat on your cheap motel room chair, staring at your phone. Her number was ready to call. Sitting there. You instead decided to text her, just to let her know you were alright.

Hey Daisy. I’m sorry I worried you. I’m alright. I couldn’t handle the stress of being on the team. I probably won’t be back.

You turned your phone off, and went to sleep. In the morning, you took your stuff, left a nice housekeeping tip, and left to enjoy your newfound freedom.

#daisy johnson #marvel #avengers #avengers x y/n #marvel x reader #angst #with some #freedom! #at the end #gn!reader

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Take Cover (1/??)

Summary: The world’s gone to shit and the Avengers have been missing for eight years. What difference can one person ever hope to make?

A/N: Yes hello, I am back with yet another fic that no one requested, but it’s happening and I’m not the one who has the power to stop this train. Regardless, I’m v excited about this and I really hope you guys enjoy this first part as much as I do!

Pairing: TBA

Word Count: 2817

Warnings: None

“I’m leaving you in charge.”

“What?”

“You’re 24, you were here for almost four years before the Fallout. You’ve got a better handle on procedures and protocols than just about anyone who’s ever walked these halls. You’re ready.”

“I don’t think you’ve got a firm grasp on what ‘ready’ means here, Phil. Choose Melinda or Daisy or Fitz even! But I’m not qualified!”

“We’ve had too many deserters in the past four months for me to stay in charge. You’re young and healthy and more than capable of everything I’m asking you to do.” He grips my hand tightly. “Please say yes.”

I squeeze his hand back. “You really think I can do it? That they’ll listen to me?”

He nods. “Yes, I really do. And I’ll be here to help you till I’m not, and I can only hope that’ll be enough time.”

--

Phil died eight months later, leaving me in charge of a compound much too large for me to take care of on my own, but I managed somehow. We still had deserters, some that stung more than others, but we managed. The hydroponic gardens still worked and the farming still got on perfectly thanks to the combined genius of Fitz and Simmons. Everyone who was once closest to Phil was willing to help out in any way they could, and I’m certain that they’re the reason we managed to stay hidden as long as we did.

About three years after I was put in charge, everyone was either gone or dead, leaving me the only person to look after the place. To make sure that no one could seize our resources and hold them over the rest of the country like food and water was a privilege and not a right.

After almost eight months alone, I found a lean black cat wandering the halls, probably looking for food. I figured he’d snuck in on the last grain shipment we received before everyone was gone. When I first tried to approach him, he was skittish and immediately ran away. Instead of chasing after him, I let him be. I started leaving out little portions of shredded chicken and a dish of water for him. When I could find it, I would set out a portion from a can of wet food. To this day, I try to ration out the wet food because it’s his favorite.

It’s been nearly a year since the last person left, and the lack of human connection is excruciating. As much as I love talking to Webster, tending to the gardens and looking after what little livestock is left, it’s hard to feel like I’m still sane. Everyday starts blurring together and, if it weren’t for the security system’s calendar and clock readouts, I probably wouldn’t know what day or time it is. The AI is primitive and can’t really hold much of a conversation unless you want someone to frantically scream at you about an emergency situation.

The only reason I’m still here is to protect the resources the church managed to put together. The government has made it their mission to seize control of any sort of food stockpile or successful farming setup to use for their own privately operated supply chain. They hike up the prices so that no one is able to afford enough food to sustain more than one person at a time, and since the Fallout, any and all jobs are controlled by the government. Even if you managed to squeeze into a manual labor position, there’s still a slim chance that you’ll ever be able to afford more than a little grain and water to get yourself by. If and when someone wanders out here looking for help, I’ll be here to give it to them.

--

Today starts out just like any other would.

My all too loud alarm clock echoes through the room and down the hall, undoubtedly waking Webster in whatever little nook he managed to find the night before. I get up and dress myself, and head out to start the day.

I wet the soil of the crops too large to fit into the hydroponic gardening shelves and spread what little fertilizer I can afford to over the space. The hope is that I’ll be able to get some corn this year, but it’s more of a far off fantasy at this point. When I’m finished with that, I move onto checking through the hydroponic shelves, snipping off little dead leaves when at all possible and tossing them onto the compost pile. I check the filtration system before I leave to make sure that everything is running smoothly.

I do my routine check of the building, taking my time systematically checking each room for any sign of life. I start out on the lowest level and slowly work my way up, inspecting each and every exit point for any sort of movement at the doors and taking the time to oil any hinges that haven’t been oiled in six months.

As usual, there’s no signs of any human life aside from my own and, in a way, it’s almost disappointing.

When I’m done with inspections I head back to the computer and surveillance room. It’s nearly noon, and everything is running the way it’s supposed to.

“WARNING,” The security system flares to life and big, bright red letters flash across every single monitor. “WARNING. INTRUDERS CROSSING TEN MILE SENSORS. BEGIN EVACUATION PROTOCOLS.”

I immediately jump up from my chair and grab the available hard drives from the cabinet across the room. I plug them into the main computer and begin transferring all important data.

“Begin evacuation download,” I command.

“Username required. Please speak your username.”

“Chosen one,” I say, silently cursing Phil for being such a nerd.

“Login successful. Download will be complete in six minutes.”

I make my way to my bedroom and grab the hiking pack that’s already been filled with enough food and water to last Webster and I a week, maybe two if we’re careful.

I pull on my anorak and stuff my old, worn baseball cap onto my head before I begin shoving clothes into the pack. I only take what I absolutely need, carefully packing an extra pair of boots to save on room for the tech that I still need to take with me. I slip my laptop and it’s two extra batteries in along with any chargers that could possibly come in handy. I cushion everything with extra socks and underwear before placing my stuff n’ go sleeping back on top.

I sling the pack onto my shoulder and head back into the computer room. The download is nearly complete on the last two hard drives, but that’s hardly cause for any sort of relief. I pull the two finished drives from the USB ports and shove them into the pack and keep my eyes trained on the security feeds, looking for any sign on the caravan that’s closing in. There’s a dust cloud at the end of the driveway, just beyond the observable horizon and I know I still have time to do what I have to.

“Data transfer complete.”

I yank the last two drives from the computer and slip them into my pack, zip it closed and shove my arm through the other strap. I take a deep breath to calm myself before I give the last command.

“Initiate computer lockdown.”

The system begins shutting down and soon I will be the only person alive capable of unlocking it.

I race back out into the hallway and head down to the farm. I move quickly, calling for Webster as I go. About halfway down, he falls in step beside me and even keeps up when I put on an extra burst of speed, as if he knows what’s going on.

As soon as I’m through eh doors I grab a bag and start pulling ripe fruits and vegetables from vines and stalks before completely destroying the plants. I tip over the hydroponic gardens and do my best to destroy the filtration systems and smash the garden shelves beyond recognition. I rip the sad little stalks of corn that I’d had such high hopes for from the ground and stomp all over the potato plants. When I’ve done what I can, I drag over the precious few gallons of gas that I’ve been saving and begin pouring it over the eviscerated plants. The gasoline soaks into the soil and ruins any hope of anything safely growing there in the future.

With a closed fist, I smack the big red button near the emergency exit. The large door slowly begins to slide open and I move to the paddocks holding the sheep, goats, cows and chickens and open all of the doors. It takes some pushing and shoving to get them out of their cozy homes, but I manage. They mill about momentarily until one of the cows discovers the open door and starts to move towards it and soon they’re all disappearing down the dimly lit tunnel. As soon as the last chicken is out of sight, I smack the button again and turn back to the wrecked gardens.

I flick open a zippo lighter and light it. Staring at the the wreckage, I can’t fight the sinking feeling at the realization that I’ve just thrown away everything I’ve worked for in the the past eight years of my life. I’m not allowed much time to mourn as I can hear heavy boots pounding down the hall. I throw the lighter down on the gasoline soaked ground and head for the door.

Webster is waiting for me just outside the doorway and I scoop him up as I round the corner.

With Webster clutched to my chest, I hurtle through the hallways. When I reach my final destination, I press the emergency button just outside the door to start the sirens blaring. The noise is loud enough that it can temporarily deafen someone, so hopefully it’ll slow them down for a while.

In the few seconds I have before the real noise starts, I slip into the room and lock the door behind me. I’m immediately met with a second door and I press my thumb to the scanner that sits where the lock should be to unlock the door. A quiet beep lets me know that the door is no longer locked and I turn the handle and go inside. As soon as the door shuts behind me, it locks again.

Phil liked to call this place the panic room. This is the only room in the entire facility that houses weapons of any sort and the only place that is completely soundproof. When I arrived on the front steps of the church, I had a balisong that my father had given me before he died. We weren’t allowed to have any weapons on us at any time, so Phil asked me to give it to him for safekeeping. I had been wary at the time, but looking at the number of weapons lining the walls of the panic room, I understand why Phil would would want to avoid anyone having something sharper than a steak knife on them at any point in time.

It takes me a moment to find the silver butterfly knife. It’s in a small box with my name on it. I slip it into my pants pocket beside my phone. I grab a ka bar and stap the sheathed knife to my thigh before grabbing a small duffel bag from of the shelf. I hold it open for Webster and he jumps in. I zip it up part way and loop the strap around my neck before grabbing a shotgun from the wall.

I press my thumb to the scanner on the door positioned opposite the one I came in through and the door opens into the large almost hangar like garage. I’ve only been here a handful of times before this and each time is just as overwhelming as the last.

I choose a solar powered motor bike and zip up the bag of fresh produce before strapping it to the back of the bike with the saddle bags. I put the shotgun in the holster near the handlebars and straddle the bike, starting the engine. I tighten the strap around my neck and situate the duffel so that Webster sits between my legs.

Revving the engine, I take off towards the evac tunnel, knowing it’ll let out in the middle of the forest out behind the church up top. Even if they’ve got the place surrounded, as I’m certain they do, there’s no way they’ll know where the tunnel lets out. It takes about five minutes at top speed to finally hit the opening of the tunnel.

“THERE SHE IS,” someone yells.

Without thinking, I take the shotgun from the holster, aim behind me and fire. There’s a round of yelling and I don’t bother to look behind me, knowing that if I do they’ll start trying to actually shoot me.

They fire off several rounds, only managing to hit trees. It’s clear that I can’t keep riding on the trail. I break off into the trees and do my best to avoid roots and stray rocks. The men from the caravan pursue on foot for nearly three miles before they seem to give up. Only when I break through at the edge of the forest do I realize that they’d switched to following in their highly armored cars that could probably be more accurately categorized as tanks.

They pursue me for almost twenty miles before a town crops up in the distance. It seems like a good place to hide and wait for them to pass through, or better yet, give up. I push the bike as fast as I can without losing control. I manage to get far enough ahead of the caravan that they can’t catch up to me before I make it into town.

I slow down as I roll into the heart of the small town. The place looks abandoned with nearly every window smashed in and waste littering the streets. Nowhere looks particularly safe, but I manage to find an old auto repair shop that doesn’t look like it’s been too badly rummaged through. After quickly glancing around and finding no one in sight, I pull around back and shut off the bike. I make sure to set it out in the sun so that it can charge and I can only hope that no one tries to steal it. Just to be careful, I cover the bike with a ratty tarp from inside the shop, making sure to cut a hole so that the solar panels are exposed.

With my bag of fruits and vegetables clutched to my chest, I head into the shop. Everything has a layer of dust on it, and I’m scared to even touch anything. I find a place away from any of the windows and set the bag of produce down on the floor. I let my hiking pack drop from my back before dropping to the ground beside it and opening it up. I pull my sleeping bag from the top of everything and then plunge my hand down to the bottom and begin rummaging around for something to eat. I find a small package of vacuum packed tuna and rip it open before offering a bit to Webster. He sniffs at it cautiously and then looks at me like I’m crazy.

“It’s not what you’re used to, but it’s what you’re gonna have to put up with till we can get someplace safe enough to rummage around for something better.”

He tilts his head to the side and licks my knuckles before taking the bit of fish from between my fingers. I sigh quietly and slump against the wall. I eat silently, occasionally feeding some to Webster. We’re halfway through the tuna when we hear the caravan rumble into town. I pull the bags against my body and press myself more firmly into the corner, praying to whoever’s listening that they don’t find me. Only when I’m sure that they’ve passed through do I allow myself to relax marginally.

I give Webster a little more fish before stuffing it back in the pack and rolling out my sleeping bag. I don’t bother to take off my boots and only slip my legs into the bag. With Webster still in the duffel that’s hugged up to my chest, I put the bag of produce in my lap and prop my hiking pack up with my shoulder. Having come this far, the fatigue hits me hard and I feel my eyelids growing heavy. I fall into an uneasy sleep, hoping for something better when I wake up.

-------

part 2

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

Tag listers:

(if you’d like to be tagged in future parts, comment on this post or just shoot me a message!)

@lost-yet-never-found, @tempestinatea-cup,@helmerfan43,@pokemaniac1,@baguettegirl,@ididnotseethatcoming,@chronolockcd,@creaturefeatures101,@wintcrcaptain,@arianaamaris,@nerdycinderella,@imagine-assembling-the-avengers,@wordstothewisereaders,@ptprocrastination,@1950schick,@neverenough24,@amayasymone23,@liladeldiamandis,@thebeutifulsunriseofmoi,@numbersdonotwinbattles,@super-potter-4ever,@kaykay0522,@arfrona-and-marvel,@ek823,@deansbaby67supernatural,@ilovebeingjoyful,@always-a-marvel-addict,@furrywerewolfcollector,@evansscruff,@theamazingworldofmarvelfics,@maurici65,@swing-dance-into-my-heart, @kissofvenom922, @not-that-type-of-person,@marvel-at-stucky,@arianaamaris, @dawn-phantomhive, @superwhovian80, @always-a-marvel-addict,@fangirlwithasweettooth,@lunalovegood2,@awesomeahwu,@thedoctorlivesthroughbooks,@kitkatgaming,@wordstothewisereaders, @mairhof1,@fantasiesfortomorrow,@leahhavoc,@awesomea102938,@samwinchesterswifey,@kaywolves,@anthonysfark,@childrenofhumanity,@bucky-barnes–winter-soldier, @gucci-zjm,@howdoesoneadult,@nyotapon,@redroomproperty,@sscarletwitchess, @saved-by-words-and-music, @thefandomplace, @claws-of-vibranium, @here-to-wreak-havok, @gcneral-organa, @always-an-evans-addict, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @marvelbase001, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @themeechofitall, @yourbuddyyourpalyourbucky, @geeksareunique, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @nyxveracity, @idalinette, @jjsoccer11

#avengersxreader #readerxavengers #avengers x reader #reader x avengers #the avengers #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction

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Urgent Care 3/(??)

A/N: Alrighty, it took me almost five months, but part three is finally done!! I think that this series might end up being at least four parts, but until we know for sure, I hope you guys enjoy this part!!

Paring: AvengersxReader

Word Count: 2794

Warnings: A little bit of angst, but nothing too serious, mild language

Part 2

“You fucking brought him back with you?” Peggy’s voice carries through the corridor.

“I couldn’t just leave him sitting that apartment, Peg!” Steve counters.

“He tried to control your best friend! He’s dangerous, Steve. That man shouldn’t be here, I don’t care how secure Tony says his holding cells are.”

“They were built to contain the Hulk, they’ll keep a normal man contained just fine.”

Bucky sits stiffly on the barstool beside mine, listening to the rising volume of Steve and Peggy's voices.

“I had no idea bringing Zemo back with us would be such a bad thing.” He says, his voice soft.

“It's not, it just wasn't part of the plan.” I slide off the stool and slip behind the bar before rummaging around in the mini-fridge. Stark keeps bottles of water and sodas in it, but the door is disguised to match the stonework of the bar, so no one knows it's here. “You want anything? Stark keeps Dr. Pepper back here.”

“Any water in there?”

“Of course,” I answer, tossing a bottle of water in his direction and grabbing one for myself. I place my bottle on the marble countertop before maneuvering around the bar and sitting down again.

Bucky and I sip at our water for a while, trying to tune out Steve and Peggy’s bickering.

“So, you work here?”

“Not anymore.” I spin around once on the stool before stopping myself on the edge of the bar.

“Wait, what? I thought you said you worked with Steve.”

“I did. I worked with Steve and the entire team up until just after the Sokovia incident.” I slide the water bottle between my hands on the countertop. “They brought Pietro to me after he had been gunned down. They wanted me to heal him because that's what I do. When I told the team I couldn't do it and wouldn't try, things took a turn for the worst. No one kicked me out or anything. I just left.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Figured it would be better for everyone that way. The only reason I'm back now is that I brought Ms. Carter back from the brink of death and Natasha won't let me leave.” I scrunch up my eyebrows and focus on the condensation running down the water bottle in front of me. “At least not until the accords business is sorted out. Then I might be able to leave.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why would you want to leave? The way you talk about them, they all seem to care about you, and you care about them.”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

He looks me dead in the eye and tilts his head to the side, brow furrowing. “I don’t think you mean that.”

“Oh?”

“You brought Peggy back because you wanted to stop the Accords-”

“Yeah, because I don’t want to be thrown in prison.”

“And you don’t want any other innocents locked up either, right?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “You not only made her young again, you brought her here and made sure Stark and Steve would listen to her, and you stuck around to make sure something actually got done.”

“That’s because those three wouldn’t do anything but bicker if I left them to their own devices.”

“You gave Steve information on where to find me and then helped him track me down yourself, even though you didn’t want to.” He points out. “Admit it. You like helping people.”

“Yeah sure, I like helping people.” He smirks at me. “That doesn’t mean I like being a glorified babysitter.”

“I never said you were a babysitter. All I’m saying is that you have the kind of skills these people need, and you’re the only one who knows them well enough to get the job done.”

“Y’know, I liked it better when you didn’t talk so much.”

Bucky snorts loudly and takes a swig from his bottle of water.

“What do you two think you’re doing, partaking of my refreshments?” Tony demands, though there’s no anger in his voice.

“We’re waiting for Patriot one and Patriot two to quit bickering and calm down a little bit,” I answer, gesturing toward the room where Peggy and Steve are still sharing words. “Care to join us?”

“Have a drink with you? Absolutely not.”

“Suit yourself, this water is fancy as hell.”

Bucky just stares at Tony, like he wants to say something, but can’t quite find the right words.

“So, you and Rogers actually managed to find Barnes?” Tony asks, stepping behind the bar and leaning on the counter.

I nod. “You say that like you didn’t think we would.”

“Well, I was half hoping you wouldn’t come back so...” I reach across the bar and shove him lightly, succeeding only in making him laugh.

“You doing alright, Tony?” I ask. “You’re not as bright as you were the last time I saw you.”

“Excuse you, I am just as smart, if not smarter than the last time you saw me.”

“Your energy, man. Your energy isn’t as bright as it was.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you feeling alright?”

Bucky looks between Tony and me in anticipation of an answer. Tony’ shoulders slump and he hangs his head for a moment before lifting his eyes to look at me.

“All this business with the Accords combined with trying to keep up with the compound, coordinating schedules, maintaining tech, and going on missions.” He scrubs a hand down his face and sighs. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of drained.”

I wipe the condensation off my hand before offering it to him. He cocks an eyebrow at me and I roll my eyes. “Come on, you know I won’t hurt you.”

“Oh do I now?. We’ve been squabbling since you came back, and you expect me to believe you?”

“Yeah, well you’ve got a job to do and you won’t be able to make it to the end of the day without a jump start.” I wiggle my fingers. “Besides, this is healthier than coffee anyway.”

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes and takes my hand. “But only a little. I’d rather not be up past my bedtime.”

“Yeah, keep lying to yourself, Stark.” He barks out a laugh and I focus on moving some of the energy I’ve got left over from Draining Zemo the other day into Tony’s body. I watch as his eyes brighten and his posture improves.

“Much better,” I say, nodding once in satisfaction.

“Honestly, that's the only thing I've missed since you left.” He confesses, a sly smile stuck on his face.

“Oh, and my witty remarks don't garner any merit at all?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

“I want you to know that I didn’t want to leave, but you didn’t exactly give me a choice.” He looks at me quizzically and I roll my eyes. “Come on. You acted like it was my fault Maximoff got himself shot. What he did was incredibly brave, but I couldn’t bring him back without harming him.”

“I… I don’t think any of us thought of it like that at the time.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’m back for the time being, but there’s no guarantee that I’ll be staying, so try to keep yourselves alive.”

He lifts his hands in surrender. “Just make sure you’re honest with Wanda when she wants to talk to you.”

“Am I ever dishonest, Anthony?” He rolls his eyes at me. “If you’ll excuse me, I do believe I have to show Mr. Barnes to the guest quarters.”

“Fine, avoid the problem forever. See what good that does.”

“Thanks,” I smirk at him and slip off my stool. “I think I will.”

Bucky stays frozen in place on the barstool, staring at his bottle of water.

“You alright there, Barnes?” Tony asks.

“I… there’s something I need to tell you. Not entirely sure how you’ll react, but you should know.”

“Okay,” Tony folds his arms across his chest. “What is it?”

“When I was in Hydra, they had me doing a lot of things that I wouldn’t have done, had I been in control.”

“Spit it out, man, we haven’t got all day,” Tony says, his tone slightly teasing.

“Thing is, it’s about your parent’s.”

“I already know about that,” Tony says quietly. “Steve knew and thought it was important that I know as well. He told me just after he started digging around looking for you.”

“He did?” Bucky’s eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“He did,” Tony nods. “I’m not going to say that I’m not upset, because I definitely am, but I know that you didn't have a choice. We all do things that we regret. Just something else I have to work on with my therapist.”

“You’re seeing a therapist?” I ask. He nods. “Good for you. I’m glad you’re getting some help.”

“Yeah, you and about twenty other people.” He steps out from behind the bar and heads toward the room where Peggy and Steve are bickering. “Go show him to his room, but I expect both of you to be in the conference room at five for a debriefing.”

I stare at him incredulously. “Who are you and what have you done with Tony Stark?”

He smirks. “Weird, right?” He nods once to Bucky and I. “I'll see you two later.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks away.

“Did that actually just happen?” Bucky asks.

“I honestly have no idea.” I shake my head. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I think I just need a second to process the fact that Stark didn't immediately try to take me out for murdering his parents.”

I snort in amusement. “Give it about six hours. He might make an attempt while you're asleep.” Bucky chuckles, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Follow me. I'll show you your room and then you can meet my merry band of misfits.”

“So you've got your own gang then?” He asks, following me as I lead him down the hallway to the elevators.

“More or less.” I jab at the elevator call button several times before stepping back. “I think we're all the odd man out in our departments so we kind of migrated towards each other in the commissary. We just stuck together and the team hasn't been able to pull us apart since.”

“That sounds nice.” Bucky muses.

“It is.” I agree. The elevator doors slide open and I step in, turning to face him. “Shall we?”

--

“This is your room,” I spin in a circle, arms outstretched. “You’ve got a fantastic bed and a bathroom there through that door. If there’s anything you need during the night, I’m just three doors down and F.R.I.D.A.Y. is always here to help.”

“Wow,” His brow furrows. “Isn’t this a bit much?”

“Nah, everyone’s got a room similar to this. Admittedly, they have made some changes, but people who’ve been here longer have definitely personalized theirs. You’re welcome to do the same if you want.”

“This is crazy,” Bucky shakes his head and runs a hand along the table sitting against the wall.

“Can’t really be any weirder than the past seventy years of your life though, right?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, not really. It's mostly just, I don't know…”

“Different?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah.” He sinks down into the chair closest to the bed. “I've spent so much time controlled by someone else and then on the run that I haven't had much time to just relax and let things happen the way they're supposed to. It's been a long time since things have been normal, y’know? There hasn't been enough time to just find the calm.”

“I understand.” I nod and offer a small smile. “The thing is, this isn't normal.” I laugh softly, taking a moment to look around the room. “Superheroes and aliens and bringing people back from the brink of death with my own bare hands aren't supposed to be commonplace. But, it is. This life is entirely too aggravating, but it's my normal. Maybe you'll find your normal here too.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a tired smile. “Maybe I will.”

I shoot him a grin.

“I’m gonna let you familiarize yourself with your room. There should be some clothing in the closet and the drawers, but I can’t be one hundred percent sure of what sizes there might be. Hopefully, something will fit.”

“Where are you going?”

I shrug. “Trouble has a way of finding me. Something tells me that I have to go looking for it this time though.”

His brows pull together. “Hopefully it’ll be hard to find.”

I offer him a small smile. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. if you need anything.”

He nods. “Alright see you soon.”

I leave Bucky in his room and turn back the way we had come earlier.

I walk quietly, hands shoved in my pockets, head down. I can feel someone searching me out and, while I know that I have to face her, it doesn’t make any part of this easier for me. Or her, for that matter.

“(Y/N)?”

I jerk my head up at the sound of my name. Wanda stands at the end of the hallway, eyes wide. I can feel the surprise flowing off of her, and I can’t help the tears that well up in my eyes.

I smile weakly. “Hey,”

She runs at me and flings her arms around my neck, pulling me against her in a tight hug. “You're here.” She breathes. I open my mouth to answer but she pushes me away from her before I can say anything, hitting and punching my chest and shoulders. “You left, you complete asshole.”

I just stand there and take the blows, unable to bring myself to say anything.

“SAY SOMETHING.” She yells, shoving me hard enough to make me stumble backward several paces.

“What do you want me to say?” I ask. “Yes, I left. I didn’t tell you I was leaving and I just disappeared because I didn’t want to be here. Is that what you want to hear?!”

“I want the truth, (Y/N). Not what you think will make me feel better. Why did you leave and why are you suddenly back?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and sigh. “I left because of Pietro. Because I couldn’t bring him back. I didn’t want to stay when you all knew I was a failure. I��m not the sort of person to stick around when I’m not of use.” I look her in the eye, unblinking. “Happy?”

“You left because of that?”

“I’m sorry, would you want to stay in a compound you can’t escape where your teammate's negative energy is directed right at you?” I lift my eyebrows and widen my eyes incredulously. “See, I’m not like you, Wanda. I have to feel and absorb the energy around me. I don’t have any choice. I felt the darkness inside of you, but it was yours that you chose to carry. When it was you and Steve and Tony and Clint and everyone else projecting everything you felt, I just couldn’t take it. So don’t fucking lecture me about leaving.”

Her brow furrows and she takes a cautious step towards me. She raises her hand to cup my cheek and I have to close my eyes to keep from flinching. When she runs her thumb over my cheekbone, something inside me breaks. I can't keep myself from leaning into her touch and a couple of tears roll down my cheeks.

“I didn't know,” she whispers.

“I didn't want to leave any of you guys. Least of all you, Wanda. I just didn't know what else to do.” I feel the angry energy that was coming off of her in waves not even a minute ago subside and she gently wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her chest. I wind my arms around her middle and press my forehead against her shoulder, trying and failing to hide my tears. “I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't want to leave you. All of you are like my family.”

I feel her nodding against the side of my head, one of her hands reaching up to stroke my hair. “I understand.” She presses a gentle kiss to my temple and pushes me away from her, framing my face with her hands. “I understand, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers. “I don't want to let you down again.”

“You won't.” She shakes her head. “You can't.”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

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Quickly and Quietly part 21

A/N: Okay so, second time’s the charm. This part is a bit longer than the last one and there are a few new friends. I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 2614

Warnings: None

part 20

“It’s good to see you again, (Y/N).” Phil nods to me as soon as I’m out of Daisy’s van.

“Could’ve had this little meeting sooner had you told me you were back from the dead.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Why didn’t you let me know you weren’t dead?”

“Didn't have permission. Can't really go behind the director's back when the director is Nick Fury. Or was, I guess. Doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah yeah, sure sure. Gimme a hug, old man.” I demand, spreading my arms.

“I thought you were too old to be calling people names,” He admonishes, not hesitating to wrap his arms around my shoulders, trapping me in a bone crushing hug.

“And I thought you were too old to be this strong, but I guess we’re both wrong.” I pat his back a few times, trying to imitate tapping out so he’ll release me. He laughs and loosens his hold on me, pushing me away from him and holding me an arms length away from him.

“You sure have grown up, (Y/N).”

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t see someone for almost a decade, Phil. They change. Sometimes they even lose an arm.”

He barks out a laugh. “Don’t I know it.” He detaches his prosthetic momentarily before pushing it back into place. My eyes widen involuntarily and Phil chuckles good naturedly. “Caught a cracked terrigen crystal and, apparently, I don’t have any Inhuman DNA, so the mists didn’t exactly agree with me. Mack helped me out and chopped off my hand and saved my life.”

“Good heavens, man. I wasn’t trying to start a pissing match on whose life has been worse, but I think you may have won.”

He laughs again and claps me on the shoulder before leading me down a hallway.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks.

“Well, I think you’re going to want to sit down with a beer before I say anything.”

“Sounds like some heavy shit you’ve got bottled up there, (Y/N).” Daisy comments.

“Yeah, well it’s been nearly a decade, so I think I’m entitled.”

--

“Hydra, huh?” Coulson raises his eyebrows. I shrug and nod, leaning back against the back of the couch. “I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I had absolutely no idea. If I had known-"

“You would have grabbed me and run, I know. There was nothing you could have done, Phil, it's fine.” I shake my head. “I protected the kids they brought in after things picked up as best I could and made sure if anyone got in trouble, I would get the punishment. In the end, Hydra got the short end of the stick.”

“Oh?”

“They got someone that they couldn't control. The memory modifications they used on me never seemed to hold for more than a week or so, and I managed to kill more than one of their agents whenever I came out of it. Steve and Sam found me on a Hydra transport when they were looking for Barnes. Hydra was sending me off to someone they felt could better control me after one of my outbursts and they decided to take me in. The team got someone with first-hand knowledge of what Hydra can do.”

“I thought Romanoff had connections to Hydra.” Daisy butts in.

“She was with the Red Room. Kind of similar, but not the same thing. The Red Room is Russian, Hydra has German origins.” I explain. “The two would occasionally team up, from what I know, but she's not directly connected.”

“Huh,”

“It's hard to keep track of all these super secret organizations, but someone's gotta do it.” I laugh somewhat darkly. “So I hear you guys have been dealing with some major Inhuman population spikes?”

“We have.” Daisy nods in confirmation. “How'd you know about that?”

“Well, someone had to have been dealing with the emergence of all these new powered people, even if it's just to check into where they got their powers.”

“I've been meaning to ask,” Phil pipes up. “How did you get your powers?”

“My mother gave me a lovely deep blue crystal one year for my birthday when i was really into rocks and gems. It sat on a shelf in my bedroom for almost three years, I think. Turns out it was a chunk of processed terrigen. I guess one day it got knocked over and rolled off the shelf and shattered. The rest is history.”

“Wow.” Neither of them really know how to respond, but Daisy hates the silence. “And you managed to get a hold of them on your own?”

“For the most part, yeah. To be fair, S.H.I.E.L.D. helped me along quite a bit before Hydra took over. After a certain point, you mostly just have to run on instinct.” I rub my hands together before lacing my fingers and cracking my knuckles. “Is there anything I could do to help out around here?”

“Well, you might as well earn your keep.” Phil smiles at me and pushes himself up off the couch.

“That sounds a little vindictive, Phil. What’ve you got planned for me?”

“You’ll see, (Y/N).” He says, shooting Daisy a look. She nods back knowingly and motions for me to follow her. I look at Coulson in confusion but follow after Daisy regardless.

--

“I thought you said you weren’t going to be tracking her, Tony.”

“I did, but I got a notification that her signal disappeared from detection and I got worried.” He spins his chair away from the monitor in front of him. “I mean, can you blame me?”

“No, not really.” Natasha pushes herself off the doorframe and saunters over to the table Tony’s working at. He turns back to the monitor and Natasha leans on the back of his chair, looking over his shoulder. “Where’d she disappear?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” He types out a line of code, his eyes never leaving the screen. “The GPS history shows her moving around California for a while before the trail just vanishes like it never existed.”

“I’m guessing the tracking system works regardless of whether or not the phone is on.”

“Right.”

“Does anyone know about your tech features aside from the team?”

“Well, S.H.I.E.L.D. knew all about it, but they disbanded after finding out the whole organization had been infiltrated by Hydra, right?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. You of all people should know that S.H.I.E.L.D. would persist even in the face of obliteration.” She squints at the screen, pursing her lips. “She had connections to people in S.H.I.E.L.D. when she was younger. Maybe they took her in for a bit while she’s out there finding herself again.”

“Even if that's true, not knowing where she is has got me all wigged out.”

“That's understandable. Maybe she'll check in soon, yeah?”

Tony sighs and hangs his head, pushing away from the table. “I hope so. She's got a bad habit of leaving us in the dark.”

“She’s trying to get her head straight before she comes back and she’s been good about keeping her promise to check in so far.”

“It’s mostly just been texts, Natasha.”

“But she’s checking in. Even I know that’s no reason to go charging off to find out what happened.” A pout shapes Tony’s mouth and Natasha rolls her eyes. “If she doesn’t check in within 24 hours you can do a deeper search,” Tony perks up immediately. “But not a minute before that.”

“Fine.”

“I swear it’s like you’re twelve and not in your forties.”

--

“Hey, watch the arm!”

“Sorry, but the scarring under the metal plating has such an interesting shape!”

“That’s because I made it.” I scowl at the young woman in front of me. “It’s a handprint.”

“A handprint? You’ve got to be joking.” She scoffs. “How could you possibly manage to cauterize your own wound?”

I lift my eyebrows at her, unimpressed. “I’m an inhuman, Simmons. I have fancy fire powers. It’s like my entire body was made to cauterize wounds.”

She waves her hand at me. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. There’s no way you could have sealed the wound on your own because you would have let go due to the pain. It simply wouldn’t happen!”

“You do realize I was brainwashed from the time I was fifteen till about a year and a half ago, right? Sometimes shit doesn’t register the way it’s supposed to and I can do quote unquote “impossible” things.” I turn towards the door, expression blank. “When I agreed to help you, that didn’t mean your techs could poke at and patronize me, Phil, I demand a refund.”

Coulson just laughs. “Maybe next time, (Y/N.)”

“Lay off, Jemma.” Fitz calls from a short ways away. “If she hasn’t got any pressing injuries she’s probably fine.”

“Oh alright” Her brow furrows slightly. “Would you mind if I took a small blood sample? I’d love the opportunity to compare your DNA to that of the other Inhumans we’ve met.”

I shrug. “Why not.”

She lights up and pulls a syringe out of seemingly nowhere and sets about looking for a suitable vein. It doesn’t take her very long and I barely notice the needle piercing my skin, and the extraction is over and done with quickly.

“Thank you,” She nods to me and turns away to begin processing her new sample.

“Yeah, no problem.” I scowl at her and rub at the crook of my arm before putting my shirt back on.

Fitz gingerly lifts my forearm and looks over the plating of my arm, examining the way the joints move. “Vibranium, isn’t it?”

“Yup,”

“Amazing,” He shakes his head and articulates the my fingers, gently bending each knuckle and carefully watching the way each plate recedes when the joint is fully extended. “Who could have engineered such delicate machinery?”

“It’s a mix of Stark and Banner tech.” I watch as he ghosts his fingers over the seams of plating of my bicep. “Getting a little handsy there, dude.”

“Right, sorry.” He practically drops my hand. “Got a little mesmerized there for a moment.”

“It's alright, it just gets to be a little much when people are touching it.”

“Because it makes you uncomfortable with the loss of your arm?”

“Not at all. It's just that I can feel everything and I guess you could say that it's overstimulation.” Fitz looks at me with a perplexed expression on his face. “Tony Stark, billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist, figured out a way to install touch sensors throughout my prosthetic.”

“That is so cool.”

“It definitely is that.” I laugh.

“Would it be alright if I took some scans of it for reference?”

“Knock yourself out kid.”

--

The phone on Tony’s desk rings, startling him out of the nap he ad accidentally taken. He immediately snatches the phone from off of the receiver and presses the speaker to his ear. He’s greeted by a chorus of hello’s from the rest of the team, and it take his sleepy brain to realize that everyone else in the tower has picked up the call as well.

“Hey guys,”

“(Y/N)!” Tony exclaims. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing? I’m completely fine.” She sounds perplexed. “Why?”

“I got an alert that the GPS tracking on your phone was disabled. After England that shit just about gave me a panic attack.”

“What do you mean, Stark? Her location went dark and you didn’t tell anyone?!” Steve demands.

“He told me.”

“Not helping, Romanoff.”

“Why would you tell her and no one else?”

“He wanted to give her time to check in and explain before going into full panic mode.”

“No, I wanted to track her down and make sure she was alright, but she stopped me before I could go anywhere.”

“Can you guys sort this out later? I’m set to head out in the morning and I’d like to get some sleep before I have to go.”

Tony can hear a round of sighs across the line and rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

“Alright, cool. What do you want to know?”

“Where are you that would block a GPS signal?”

“I’m at S.H.I.E.L.D. right now visiting some old friends. I’m helping them out with a little research.”

“Research?” Steve asks.

“Inhuman stuff.”

“Anything you can talk to us about?”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line.

“Alright, the boss has cleared me to talk to you about the project.”

“Boss?” Cint inquires.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the man in charge at this time. Wish I could, but the orders are coming from someone above even his head.”

“Who has greater power than the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Pietro questions.

“Fury,” Everyone else on the line answers.

“You are all one hundred percent correct.”

“Isn’t it even a little bit weird that everyone’s still afraid of Third Eye Blind, or is that an opinion shared only by me?”

“The name Nick Fury had a reputation before he was even born because of his father. No one is stupid enough to fuck with him.” Natasha says bluntly.

“Right, well. Okay then.”

--

“As fun as it is to listen to all this back and forth, I have like five minutes left on my calltime allowance.

“Right, of course S.H.I.E.L.D. would limit your minutes.”

I roll my eyes. “Doesn't matter, I'll be able to call you on my own phone tomorrow. Would it be alright if I spoke to Bucky alone?”

“What about the rest of us?” Clint asks, his tone filled with mock hurt.

“You know damn well that you'll survive without talking to me for a couple days.” I scoff. “Everyone get off the line. I’ll wait, but if I run out of time I'll blame each and every one of you.”

“Fine, we're going.” Tony grouses.

“Take care of yourself, (Y/N).” Pietro pleads.

“You know I will. Now go. You've probably got shit to do. It's not like the Avengers can function without me for a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, okay. We'll talk to you later.”

“Yes you will. And I have three minutes left, so thanks for that.”

“Right, sorry, bye.”

I roll my eyes and wait for the seven necessary clicks before speaking again.

“You there?”

“Yeah, it’s just me now.”

I sigh softly and lean on Coulson’s desk. “Hey,”

“Hey yourself.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m alright. You’re with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Yeah, it’s a total trip too.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t exactly talk about it, but it seems like people coming back from the dead is becoming a trend.”

He laughs softly. “Well that would definitely trip someone up. Were they at least happy to see you?”

“They were very welcoming.”

He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s trying to think of something to say. “I’m glad you’re somewhere safe.”

“I figured that if I hung out in one of the safest facilities in the world, you guys couldn’t complain too much.” He laughs again and I can’t keep the smile from my face. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, and before you say anything, It’s nothing bad.”

“O-okay.” He stammers out. “What’s up?”

“I’m headed back to New York tomorrow.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I’m going to stop off upstate to check up on a friend first.”

“But you’re coming back?”

“Yeah, I think it’s time for me to come home.”

-------

part 22

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