#enhanced!reader

Cecil, the head of the GDA, was the first to contact you as you sat in the quiet of your living room, watching the television blare with the devastating news. Headlines flashed – each more grim than the last. The damage was escalating by the minute, and with every rescue team sent to save the lives of the innocent, more lives were lost. The world felt like it was coming apart at the seams. 

“You seeing this?!” Cecil’s voice crackled through the phone, sharp and frantic, sending an uncomfortable twist through your gut. You’d never heard him like this before – not once, not since… Since everything fell apart. You grabbed the remote, silencing the TV as the sound of chaos from the broadcast still hung in the air. Your eyes shifted to the window, watching the dark sky stretch over the city, a subtle sense of dread creeping up your spine.

“These fucking Invincible variants are everywhere,” Cecil snapped, his irritation thick with something darker, something bordering panic. 

“Where do you need me?” It wasn’t concern that pushed the words from your mouth, nor worry about yourself. It was the promise you had made to the GDA months ago, after Omni-Man’s destruction of Earth. Cecil had worn you down, tried to convince you over and over to join the fight, but you’d always refused. You’d never been interested in joining some cheesy, pretentious superhero team. But now? Now the world was burning. Now, there were no more excuses. No more questions. You didn’t need to ask how you’d deal with it. Cecil will give you the coordinates.

A heavy sigh echoed through the line, exhaustion weighing down on Cecil’s voice. “The Guardian’s headquarters. One variant’s tangled up with them, and I need someone to make sure he doesn’t walk away from this fight.” 

It wasn’t that Cecil didn’t believe in Immortal and the others – they could handle powerful foes, sure. But this wasn’t just any enemy. This was Invincible. The strongest person on Earth, now multiplied. Eighteen versions of him, each with the same terrifying strength. Cecil needed someone who could match that raw power, someone who wasn’t afraid to step in when things were beyond even the Guardian’s reach.

The gravity of it all settled in. You didn’t have to say anything more. 

“You got it.” You didn’t waste a second, immediately dialing your watch to set your coordinates for the Guardian’s headquarters. The familiar ding echoed in your ear, confirming your destination. You paused for a moment, the weight of the situation creeping up on you. 

“How long do you think this will last?” The question slipped from your mouth, though you already knew the answer would be a hollow one. 

“God, I don’t know.” Cecil’s voice was tight, raw with the tension of the situation. “But the numbers don’t lie. We’re looking at a catastrophe, with lives on the line by the second. You need to go – now– before it’s too late. “ 

The finality in his voice made your stomach twist, a cold sense of urgency washing over you. No more hesitation, no more questions. You were already moving. 

In the next breath, the world around you warped and shifted, the familiar comfort of your home replaced by the stark, sterile walls of the Guardian’s headquarters. The air was heavy with tension, filled with the metallic tang of battle and the distant sounds of chaos outside. You’d prepared for this moment, tucked away your emotions, and steeled yourself for the inevitable. But nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to witness. 

As you made your way through the facility, the reality of the destruction that had already been wrought and the carnage still unfolding hit you like a wave. This wasn’t some distant theory anymore. This was real.

As you drew closer to the barricade, the air was thick with the piercing, frantic screams of those caught in the confusion. Hang in there, Immortal. The words resonated in your mind as you steadied yourself, fingers brushing the switch hidden at your waist. Every step brought you closer, but you could feel the weight of what was pressing down on you. You never imagined it would come to this – not in a million years. Never would you have thought you’d be the one forced to end Invincible’s life. He and Cecil had never seen eye to eye – his opposition to the GDA was clear, but you always respected him. Hell, you admired him. He fought for his family, for the ones he loved with a determination that you could claim for yourself.

You didn’t have that kind of bond. Not the way he did. When the GDA took you in, they gave you something to fight for, but not like that. You couldn’t help but wonder how different your life might have been if someone had fought so fiercely for you as he did for them. 

“Man, you guys are great! Has anyone told you that?” The alternate Invincible’s voice was filled with gleeful excitement, completely devoid of remorse for the destruction he was wreaking. It was as if he was savoring every moment of it like he was enjoying playing the lives of others for sport. “I wish I could’ve fought you all in my world!” 

“You monster!” Immortal shouted, his body surging toward the doppelganger, fists flying with explosive force. “You’re nothing but a pale imitation of Invincible!” 

But the variant barely flinched, almost as if Immortal’s rage was beneath him. His eyes glinted with dark amusement, a twisted smile creeping across his face as he weaved through his punches, savoring the power he held over the Guardians. It wasn’t just a battle to him – it was a performance. And he was relishing every brutal second of it. 

It was unnerving how effortlessly this Invincible absorbed the blows. He looked identical to the one you knew – same yellow, black, and blue suit – but the absence of the familiar goggles left the mask slightly askew, offering a glance at his face. That small glimpse, however, was enough to send a chill down your spine. The eyes that stared back weren’t the eyes of a hero. 

“I mean – I don’t need any more motivation to kill you. But sure, insult me.” There was something deeply unsettling in his words and smile, a twisted satisfaction that lingered like poison in the air. He delivers a sucker punch right beneath Immortal, propelling him straight up. 

But he didn’t expect the searing, agonizing heat of fire. Not just any fire – hellfire. It burned through his suit, sharp and relentless, as the flames pricked at his skin. He spun in mid-air, his expression shifting from cocky amusement to genuine surprise as he locked eyes with you. Hovering a few feet above, he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Well look who it is!” His grin stretched wider, and you noticed the blood dripping from his mouth, the unsettling detail sending a jolt of tension through your chest. Instinctive fear gripped you, cold and unrelenting. “Nice to see you, babe!”

You hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. “Hey, how’s it going?” Your voice was a perfect mask of indifference, deadpan and steady, your gaze unwavering. Every fiber in your body was focused on him, eyes locked onto his every movement. You could feel Immortal somewhere nearby, floating in a daze with a shattered jaw. But for now, you’d play along with his twisted game – wait for the right moment to close the distance.  

Invincible’s eyes raked over your figure, utterly unfazed by the absurdity of the situation. It was a chilling thing – how easily he could make this moment feel like something else entirely. “God, you look good!” he smirked. “Say, why don’t we do a little one-on-one, huh? For old time’s sake?” His feet lowered slowly, hovering just above the ground, but not enough for you to act – yet. “Actually, did the me from this world ever get to–” His voice trailed off, curiosity glinting in his eyes, but you felt his confidence faltering just enough for you to know that the game was far from over. 

“No,” You remarked, your tone casual. “We’re not exactly close.” But there was something in his intense stare that unsettled you – something that told you he wasn’t sharing everything, that there was more beneath the surface. “But I’m guessing in your world, that’s not the case.” 

“Sharp as ever,” he commented, a slight admiration in his voice. You could see his defenses lowering, just for a moment – a crack in his composure. You knew you needed to seize that opening. “God, I’ve missed you.” 

You raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of surprise crossing your face. “Really?” you asked, voice steady, trying to mask any hint of emotion. Knowing how highly sensitive Invincible’s ears were, you fought to keep your cool, burying whatever reaction threatened to surface. 

But it was difficult. The entire situation was absurd, like some twisted dream, a distorted reality you couldn’t fully understand. Because the truth was, you’d never been close to Invincible – not even in the slightest. If anything, you were only acquaintances, by virtue of Cecil’s influence, a fact that had always kept the distance between you two. And that was probably the biggest barrier to any kind of connection – his life, his choices compared to yours were completely separate paths, never intersecting.

You worked for Cecil, and despite all his moral wrongdoings, you empathized with it. He had often justified his actions with the words, the greater good, in that you knew the cost of it would do. And yet, you stayed. You were bound to him, just as your parents had bound you, long before you could even understand the gravity of the pact. You were the result of a deal made in the shadows, your very existence tied to secrecy that shaped your role in this world – the dark passenger, the one who stalked the dead, the agent of the sacrilegious world. Damien Darkblood would’ve been the first to concur that you were always the outsider, never belonging to either side.

Invincible, on the other hand, had lived a life before all this. He’d had the luxury of freedom – to grow, to experience what it meant to be human before the weight of the world fell onto his shoulder. The weight you, on the other hand, were born into. The fabric of your very existence already sealed your fate long before you could even question it. Your paths were never meant to cross, and yet here you were – confronting a man you barely knew, who now stood before you as an echo of the person he used to be. 

“Yeah, it was a shame we didn’t spend much time together,” Invincible said with a tone that straddled the line between genuine and condescension. “You know before I had to kill you.” 

“Huh.” It was all you could muster, a single syllable to mask the disbelief rolling through your mind. Was this really happening? Was this how it was going to play out?

“But,” he continued, his voice softening, the edges of it pulling in something like sorrow or even remnants of a past he wasn’t sure how to navigate anymore. Finally, his feet touched the ground, and he took a slow, purposeful step toward you. His dark brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that was all too much to bear – something in that gaze that reminded you of the inferno you had long buried inside. It was raw, it was fierce, and it was just as dangerous as the man standing before you. “Believe me when I say this… I did care about you.” 

A bitter laugh bubbled up in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You raised a brow, your gaze was firm and unwavering as you studied him. Was this some kind of joke? “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Your voice was laced with venom, each word cutting sharper than the last. You couldn’t even begin to understand what he was trying to do – what he was hoping to achieve with these sorrowful words. His confession, if that’s what you could call it, fell flat, if anything, it only stoked the flames of your frustration. 

You looked at him with wicked disdain, your expression indifferent, though behind it, a storm was brewing. His words weren’t enough to make you falter – not even close. The audacity of him to think that now, of all times, he could manipulate you with some half-hearted attempt at remorse was laughable. It didn’t stir anything in you. It only made you sick, as the man standing before you was a hollow version of what he was supposed to be. 

You had no time for his games. Not now. Not after everything. 

With a quick motion, the air around you began to warp, thick with the heat of something far more ancient and menacing than anything in the room. The flames that burned inside you, that had always burned inside you, began to flare to life. Heat prickled against your skin, and your fists clenched as a surge of power thrummed through your veins. 

Hellfire. 

It erupted from your palms into a burst of molten energy, crackling with an intensity that could melt stone. Invincible’s eyes widened as he barely managed to block the first wave of fire. The flames scorched his skin, blackening his suit, but he did not back down, Instead, he grinned – a wide, maddening smile that only angered your temper further.

“Impressive,” he said, his voice tinged with admiration. But it was also laced with mockery too. “You think that’ll stop me?”

You didn’t respond. 

With a roar, you threw another wave of hellfire at him, more intense this. The green flames surged toward him like a tidal wave, hot enough to sear through everything in its path. He dove sideways, just narrowly escaping the inferno as it roared past him, setting the ground ablaze where he had been standing. 

As you grew, so did the fire. So did the attitude. You learned to own it—your temper, your heat, the way flames lick at your skin like they know you. People called you dangerous, reckless, impulsive. You called it survival. Eventually, you stopped flinching when they whispered “monster.” You started smirking instead.

Now you’re the walking wildfire of the team—hot-headed, loud-mouthed, and impossible to ignore. You talk big because you can back it up. No one wants to spar with you in the training room. You’ve melted more than one combat dummy and set off multiple fire alarms just breathing too hard.

And yeah, you’re cocky. Arrogant, even. But beneath the fire and the biting sarcasm, there’s something else. A need to protect. A need to matter. You’ll never admit it out loud, but these people—this dysfunctional team of weirdos and warriors—they’re the closest thing you’ve ever had to a family.

You’d burn the world down for them.

All they had to do was light the match.

Being part of the Avengers means being part of a dysfunctional family—emphasis on dysfunction. You’re the chaos in the calm, the match everyone forgot was lit until the whole room’s up in smoke. The team keeps calling you a “loose cannon”, which is ironic considering you’re also the one they call when things go really sideways.

You get on everyone’s nerves, but they’d be lying if they said they didn’t love you.

Steve tries to keep you in check. Keyword: tries. He’s constantly telling you to “watch your temper” or “think before you act,” and you just grin and ask if he wants you to knit a sweater and write in cursive next. He lectures, you roast him, but there’s a weird father-figure comfort in the way he never gives up on you—even when you’re blowing holes through the training room walls.

Sam? He’s your sparring partner and your verbal sparring partner. The two of you bicker like siblings on a long car ride. You steal his food, call him Birdbrain, and he threatens to throw you off the Quinjet every time. But if anyone outside the team ever looked at you the wrong way, Sam would be the first to step between you and danger

Clint is your partner-in-crime. You once dared him to shoot an arrow through a flaming hoop you made mid-air. He did it. You high-fived. Nat screamed. It was a great day.

Bruce is wary of you. Understandably. He says you “remind him of a bad day.” But he respects your strength and sometimes lets you hang around when he’s working in the lab. You don’t push him, and in return, he gives you space when the fire under your skin starts burning too hot.

Wanda gets it. She sees the fire in your head as well as the one in your fists. You two share a quiet understanding beneath all the sarcasm. She’s the one who talks you down when your temper edges toward dangerous. You never admit it out loud, but sometimes when the nightmares come, it’s her voice that helps you breathe.

Tony loves the fire. It’s entertaining to him, he can’t comprehend how dangerous it is to fuel. Always matching your sarcastic remarks or commenting on the guests that leave your room. Sometimes you think he lives to see you react—burn.

And then there’s Natasha.

Your dynamic with Natasha is… complicated.

From day one, the two of you clashed. She’s ice; you’re fire. She’s calculated; you’re impulsive. She walks into a room and sizes it up like a chessboard. You? You kick the door open and set the board on fire just to see how the pieces scatter.

She says you’re a headache. You call her uptight. She rolls her eyes when you flirt, and you flirt harder. It’s almost a game now—this push and pull, this unspoken dare between you.

You call her Natty, just to get under her skin. You wink at her in briefings, lean too close when you’re teasing, whisper “You love me, admit it,” like it’s a joke. She scoffs, mutters something sharp, and walks away before anyone sees the corner of her mouth twitching up.

But beneath her cold exterior and your loud bravado, there’s something simmering—something that neither of you touches directly. You feel it when her eyes linger too long after a mission, when she patches you up in silence and her fingers hover just a second longer than they need to. You feel it in the rare moments she lets you see behind her walls, and it terrifies you more than any fire ever could.

She gets on your nerves. You get under her skin. And yet, when everything’s falling apart, she’s the one you find standing beside you—silent, steady, and always watching your back.

Maybe it’s love. Maybe it’s danger. Maybe it’s both.

But whatever it is, it burns.

———

You weren’t exactly recruited—you were contained.

After your powers triggered a four-alarm inferno in downtown Berlin during a run-in with a mercenary crew, SHIELD made a call. Fury showed up, grim as ever, and gave you two options: be a weapon for someone else, or learn how to control your fire with people who won’t flinch when you burn.

You chose the Avengers.

It’s been six months. Six long months of testing your limits, pissing off Rogers, burning through reinforced training mats, and learning that your powers don’t just react to anger—they thrive in it.

And Tony? God, Tony’s made it his life mission to poke the metaphorical bear.

———

You’re in the hangar, fresh out of a debrief that felt more like a public execution. Tony wouldn’t shut up about the “scorch marks” you left on the Quinjet floor, and Fury went off about “restraint, discipline, collateral damage, Wildfire, damn it!”

Your fists are clenched. Smoke rises off your skin in thin wisps, heat radiating off you in thick waves. The air itself wavers around you.

Everyone else had the sense to leave, but Natasha?

She leans against a crate a few feet away, arms crossed, like she’s watching a particularly unimpressive fireworks display.

“You done throwing your tantrum?” she asks, arching a brow.

You whip around. “Back off, Romanoff.”

“Original,” she mutters. “You burn a hole in the floor again and Fury’s going to tan your ass.”

“I said back off,” you growl, eyes flickering orange. The fire is crawling up your arms now, licking your shoulders. You’re shaking. The control you’ve spent months building is crumbling fast.

Natasha doesn’t move.

“Breathe,” she says, quietly now. “Unless you want to turn this place into a kiln.”

“Don’t pretend you care,” you snap, voice cracked with heat. “You’re just waiting for me to slip up so you can say I told you so.”

“Oh yeah,” she says dryly, pushing off the crate and walking toward you, unbothered by the scorched floor or the way your body temperature is climbing. “I live for watching your emotional meltdowns. Better than Netflix.”

You laugh once, sharp and bitter. “God, you’re such a—”

But then she’s closer. Her voice drops, no longer playful, but not unkind either.

“Look. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re about to come apart. To be the weapon everyone expects to misfire.”

Her eyes search yours—calm, sharp, unsettlingly gentle.

“You don’t have to prove anything. Not to Stark. Not to Fury. And sure as hell not to me.”

Your breath hitches. The fire falters, sputters, confused. You blink and realize you’ve been trembling. Not with rage. With fear.

You don’t even notice your knees give out until she catches you.

Not gently, but not coldly either—just… present. Strong. Real. Her arms steady you, her touch cooler than your skin, grounding like ice on a burn.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, your voice cracking.

“No, you’re boiling over.” She smirks faintly. “Shocking, I know.”

You snort, half-laughing through a breathless exhale. “You really know how to comfort someone.”

“It’s a talent,” she says. “Now come on. Let’s get you cooled off before you burn off your eyebrows again.”

You look at her—really look. And in her expression, under the teasing and the sarcasm, there’s something soft. Something vulnerable. Something that mirrors the mess inside you.

You’ve always flirted with her, joked and prodded and pushed—but this is the first time it feels dangerously real

And maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one who’s afraid of what happens if that fire ever turns inward—if the two of you stop fighting it.

You’re still shaking, the fire inside you reduced to embers that stubbornly cling to your skin like static. Natasha doesn’t say much as she guides you through the compound—hand on your arm, firm and warm, a silent anchor.

You expect her to take you to medical, or maybe one of the training rooms. But instead, she wordlessly leads you down the hall toward the Avengers’ private lap pool, tucked away behind reinforced glass and sterile white tile.

She flicks the lights on. They hum softly as the water glows a cool, blue-green.

“Strip,” she says, already kicking off her boots.

You blink. “Wow. Should’ve lost control sooner.”

She glares. “Don’t flatter yourself, Wildfire. You’re a human flamethrower and you need to cool off.”

Still, there’s a twitch at the corner of her mouth—half-smirk, half-internal war. You mutter something about bossy redheads and peel off your shirt. Your skin’s flushed, your chest still rising too fast. The moment your feet touch the water, your body sighs—like the fire inside you exhales all at once.

Natasha doesn’t cannonball or dive. Of course not. She slips into the water like it’s part of her, all grace and calculated movements. She ends up floating beside you, eyes half-lidded, arms spread over the surface like she’s waiting for the silence to say what neither of you has.

“So,” she finally says, voice softer than you expect, “you wanna tell me what that was about?”

You shrug, eyes trained on the pool tiles. “Tony pushed. Fury barked. I snapped. What else is new?”

“That’s not all of it.”

Your jaw tightens. “I’ve spent most of my life being afraid of what I am. People flinch when they look at me. I get too angry and I become this… thing.” You swallow. “And part of me likes it. The heat, the power. It scares me, and I think it scares them too. I’m not like you, Nat. I can’t hide what I am.”

She watches you for a long moment before speaking.

“You think I don’t know what it feels like to be turned into something you didn’t ask to be?” Her voice is low. “I spent years being shaped into a weapon. Made to bury who I was. Smile when ordered. Kill when told.”

You turn your head, meet her eyes. She’s close now—close enough to feel the ripple of her breath across the water.

“I see the way you fight it,” she continues. “The way you laugh and push people away before they can do it first. It’s not just heat you’re holding back.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not yet. But something softens in you.

“I didn’t think you noticed,” you finally say.

Natasha tilts her head. “I notice everything.”

You chuckle under your breath. “Of course you do.”

There’s a long pause. The water moves between you in gentle waves.

Then you say it, quieter than anything you’ve said during your time with the team.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She blinks. That cool composure falters for half a second—cracked, not shattered. She glances away like the admission struck something unguarded in her.

“That’s dangerous talk,” she says, voice a little too even. “Especially from someone who lights up like a damn matchstick.”

You smirk. “Maybe. But it’s true.”

Silence again. This time, heavier. More charged.

She shifts closer, and now you’re inches apart—warmth meeting warmth, though the pool should be cooling you both. Her eyes flick down to your lips, just once, before she glances away, guarded again.

“You don’t scare me,” she murmurs.

You blink. “Why not?”

She looks at you, expression unreadable. “Because I’ve danced with fire before.”

Your breath hitches. But neither of you leans in. Not yet.

Instead, you float there in the quiet tension—words unspoken, feelings barely contained—letting the water carry what the fire left behind.

For once, you don’t feel like you’re about to burn the world down.

You just feel seen. The silence between you stretches on, taut and electric.

She’s still watching you from beneath those long lashes, eyes dark in the soft shimmer of the pool lights. That unreadable expression—cool, controlled, calculating—is starting to crack. You see it in the way her fingers twitch in the water, in how her mouth parts like she wants to say something but won’t.

You move first.

Not because you’re bold—but because you’re done pretending.

Your hand brushes her arm under the water. Testing. She doesn’t move.

Then you shift closer, and your voice is nothing but a whisper:

“Say something, Romanoff.”

She meets your eyes. Her voice is low, rough. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I say what I want to say…” Her pupils flare with something raw. “I’m not going to be able to stop.”

You inhale sharply. “Then don’t stop.”

And just like that, the match ignites.

She surges forward, closing the space between you with a force you don’t expect—but crave. Her hand grips the back of your neck, the other splashing up water as it finds your jaw, tilting your face toward hers. And then—

She kisses you.

It’s not soft. It’s not slow. It’s not hesitant.

It’s devastating.

Mouths colliding in a desperate tangle of months of tension and biting sarcasm and flirtation that meant too much. Her lips are hot against yours, her body pressed to yours like she’s trying to erase the space that ever existed between you.

You groan into her mouth, hands gripping her waist, pulling her flush against you in the water. She lets you. She wants it. You can feel the shiver roll through her as your fingers splay across the small of her back.

Her legs wrap around you before you even register it, and the heat between you has nothing to do with your powers now. Your heart is pounding. You feel like you’re burning alive again, but this time it’s not dangerous—it’s hers.

When she finally pulls back, your foreheads rest together, breath ragged, water rippling wildly around you both.

You whisper, “So, uh… that was…”

“Shut up,” she breathes, lips brushing yours again.

And then she kisses you again—slower this time, but no less intense. A confession written in the way she leans into you. A vow hidden in the way her thumb traces your cheek under the water.

For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like a weapon.

You just feel wanted.

You nervously fidgeted with your fingers as you rode the elevator to the main room of the tower with Valentina. You got startled a little bit by the ding of the elevator when the doors opened. You followed Valentina out of the elevator and into the main room where there was a small group of people. The Thunderbolts gathered around when they seen Valentina.

“What do you want, Valentina?” Yelena asks with annoyance in her voice.

“I have a new team member for you guys.” Valentina says.

They looked over at you. You gave them a shy smile and a small wave. Valentina nudged you with her shoulder as a way of telling you to introduce yourself to them.

“I’m Y/N.” You finally introduced yourself to them.

“Enjoy your new team member.” Valentina says.

The Thunderbolts watched Valentina leave before turning their attention back to you. They all introduced themselves to you. They’re all really nice to you, but you still feel shy around them, which they don’t mind.

“Do you have powers or abilities we need to know about?” Yelena asks.

“I have healing powers.” You tell them.

“So you can heal cuts and stuff like that?” John asks.

“That’s what healing powers do, Walker.” Ava says.

Bucky was staring at you with heart eyes as you shyly talked to everyone. He thinks your shyness is cute.

“Would you like a tour of the place?” Bucky asks.

You nodded and smiled. Bucky showed you all around the tower, showing you to your bedroom last.

“And this is your room.” Bucky says as you followed him in the room.

“Where’s your room?” You curiously asked.

“My room is right next door.” He says, pointing to the right.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound weird or creepy. I was just curious.” You nervously rambled.

“It’s ok. I don’t think it’s weird or creepy at all. You’re welcome to come to my room at anytime of the night if you need anything late at night.” He says.

“Ok.” You replied softly and shyly.

“Do you have any questions?” He asks.

“Not right now, but I’ll let you know if I do.” You answered.

———

It didn’t take you long to adjust to living in the tower. Bucky made it easier for you to adjust too. Everyone loves you, especially Bucky. You hangout and talk to him more than the rest of the team. You and him have become best friends with the short amount of time you’ve been living there. He has gotten you to come out of your shell a little bit. Once he gets you talking, you don’t stop talking. Bucky listens to every word you say with the look of adoration on his face. Also, you have a huge crush on Bucky and he feels the same way about you, but neither of you have admitted to it yet. The team has noticed it too.

Right now, you and Bucky are watching movies. Actually, you fell asleep in the middle of the third movie. So did Bucky. Bucky woke up to the TV lighting up the living room and you snuggled up against him. He smiles at you before checking the time on his watch. It’s later than either of you expected. Bucky shut the TV off and picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your bedroom. He gently laid you down on your bed and covered you up with a blanket. In your sleep, you reached a hand out and grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could walk away. He decided to stay in your room for the night. There’s no harm in that, right? It’s just for one night. Bucky got in bed next to you and protectively wrapped his arms around you.

“Goodnight, doll.” Bucky whispers softly and kisses your cheek.

———

A few days later, you, Bucky, and the team had to go on a mission. You guys had a meeting before it and then suited up. During the mission, Bucky tried his best to protect you and do his part of the mission at the same time. While you were doing your part of the mission, Bucky sees someone aiming their gun at you. His eyes went wide and he ran over to you, shielding you from the bullet. Bucky got shot while he was shielding you from the bullet. Then he turned around to check on you. You had a look on your face like you were about to start freaking out.

“Are you ok, doll?” Bucky asks softly.

“I-I am now.” You stuttered in a shaky voice. “I didn’t see that guy.” You say.

“It’s ok. It happens.” He says.

You nodded. While Bucky was making sure you were ok, he wasn’t paying attention to anything around him. The guy who tried to shoot you, walked over to you and Bucky, stabbing him next to where he was shot. Your eyes widened in horror as he fell to his knees in pain.

“Bucky!” You screamed.

You dropped to your knees to check on him. You looked down to see his hand on his lower abdomen. You seen blood seeping behind his fingers. Your eyes teared up. Bucky noticed.

“Don’t cry, babydoll. I’m fine.” Bucky manages to say and then winces in pain.

“You’re bleeding.” Is all you say.

Alexei wasn’t too far from where you and Bucky are when he saw Bucky on his knees and in pain. He ran over to you guys. Without asking what happened, Alexei helped Bucky up and took him back to the tower. You followed beside them. Alexei took Bucky to your bedroom and helped him in your bed.

“Thank you, Alexei.” You say.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Alexei replies.

Alexei left your bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him. You got the first aid kit from your bathroom and sat down on the bed next to Bucky. Normally, Bucky can tolerate pain, but it hurts a lot more this time than it did in the past.

“Hell, ok, shit. That actually fucking hurts.” Bucky groans in pain, his hand still on his abdomen where he got shot and stabbed.

“Just let me help you… please?” You say softly.

Bucky nods and takes his hand off his abdomen. He leans up just enough to take his shirt off, wincing in pain as he did so. Your eyes teared up again when you see where he was shot and stabbed. You started with wiping the excess blood from his wounds and then put alcohol on both wounds so they didn’t get infected.

“Fuck!” He winces at the sting of the alcohol.

As you continued to clean his wounds, you couldn’t help but feel like this is your fault. If you have seen that guy who did this to Bucky, he wouldn’t be in this position right now. Bucky looks down, watching you clean his wounds, noticing that your hands are shaking. He also seen tears in your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, babydoll?” Bucky asks softly, putting his hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m so sorry.” You apologized profusely, your voice cracking and tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, doll.” He says.

“Yes I do. This is my fault. This shouldn’t have happened to you. I should’ve been paying attention.” You say.

Bucky props himself up on his vibranium elbow and cups your cheek with his right hand, wincing in pain as he sat up.

“I want you to listen to me when I say this, ok?” He begins. “This is not in any way your fault.” He assures softly.

“It feels like it.” You say.

“It could’ve happened to any one of us. If this happened to you, I would’ve dropped everything to patch you up.” He says softly. “I want you to understand that this is not your fault, ok?” He assures softly again.

“Ok.” You replied in a whisper.

Bucky wiped your tears away while looking deep in your eyes. Something about staring in Bucky’s blue eyes felt calming to you. He leaned up more and kissed you passionately. Now you definitely feel calmer. It’s like every worry you had in you left your body the second you felt Bucky’s soft lips on yours.

“How do you feel now?” Bucky asks softly.

“Calmer.” You answered softly.

“Good.” He replies softly.

Bucky lays back on the bed so you can finish cleaning up his wounds.

“I’m going to heal you now, ok?” You say softly.

“Ok.” Bucky replies.

“It shouldn’t hurt.” You say.

Bucky nods and looks down, watching as you hovered your hands over his wounds. A bright light shines in your hands as you healed his wounds. It took a few seconds to heal his wounds and then he was good as new and not in pain anymore. You moved your hands away to check the area of his abdomen where his wounds were. The wounds weren’t there anymore. He’s healed.

“How do you feel?” You asked.

“I’m not in pain anymore.” Bucky says.

“Good. That’s good.” You say softly.

You cleaned up everything and put away the first aid kit. Bucky noticed your hands were shaking again and your eyes were tearing up.

“Hey, look at me.” Bucky whispers. “I’m fine now.” He whispers again.

“I thought you were going to die before I got the chance to tell you that I love you.” You say, your voice cracking and your eyes tearing up again.

“You love me?” He asks, making sure he heard you right.

You nodded and sniffled.

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky says softly, cupping your cheeks.

You smiled when he said that. Bucky dips his head down to kiss you. This kiss had more passion in it than the first kiss.

“Be mine?” He asks in almost a whisper.

“I would love to be yours, Bucky.” You say softly.

Bucky smiles and kisses you once more.

“Thank you for healing me.” He says softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, Bucky. I would’ve healed you no matter what.” You say with a smile.

You are wandering through the streets of the Kingdom that you used to call your home — But was the word still appropriate to use? 

The now empty streets of the city are far from the one you remember, those that once were full of life, and the buildings that used to proudly stand, symbols of the realm’s wealth and strength, were now crumbling.

There was nothing familiar anymore about this place.

The city you are travelling through is no more than the ruins of the one that once stood there — Who would have guessed that this was one of the most powerful capitals?

But it was too late to save it, the evil corrupting these lands being too strong, and while many people tried to fight for their homes, none of them could beat the prophecy. Eventually, everyone left, leaving you as the only soul on these lands. 

You refused to leave because you couldn’t imagine your future anywhere else. You are tied to this realm in a way that can’t be described, and despite the feeling of dying at the same time as the city, you have never felt so.. alive in your life.

The ground was trembling beneath your feet, and the warmth of the flames was caressing your face. The ashes have penetrated your lungs, making it difficult to breathe and yet, there was something oddly comforting in your situation, in watching the city gradually being destroyed, and witnessing the castle on the hill disappearing.

You consider yourself lucky for having the chance to walk these streets one last time, to be able to look at the stars before they eventually vanish, along with everything else — Including yourself. The place you cherished soon becoming your grave.

One by one, each of the things that had made this city great was disappearing and soon, it’ll be the turn of memories of the people who inhabited these lands to be taken.

And then, it will be as if this realm never even existed in the first place.

| SERIES MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. previous part. - next part.

“She’s downstairs,” Ava said to the team as she came out of the stairwell.

Your breathing quickened.  It has only been a few days since her press conference.  Why was she here now, already?  Did she know? You felt a shiver, as your body broke out in cold sweat and your breathing became ragged.

Bucky hadn’t given you a gun yet.  You weren’t sure if you had the grip strength to load the magazine.  You were not going back to her compound.  There was a low buzzing in your ears as you stared at the elevator doors expecting them to open at any second.

You were vaguely aware of Bob saying something next to you, but it didn’t seem important.  Valentina or her men could come out of those doors across the hall.  You were too vulnerable where you were standing in the main room.  All they had to do was start shooting and you could be hit.  You were not conscious of the way your arms came up to hold yourself and protect your baby.

There was a sudden and sharp pain on your cheek, shocking a full breath through your system and making you look away from the elevator doors.  Bob was standing on one side of you looking very concerned and mildly upset.  To the other side of you was John.  He held his hand in front of you and snapped his fingers.  You realized he had just slapped you.

“What the hell?” you asked trying for annoyance.  The only emotion that came through your words, however, was terror.

“You zoned out,” John said like it explained everything.

“We were saying, we don’t know what she knows, so act normal and try not to give anything away that you don’t have to,” Bucky said.  He was giving you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were feeling.  The elevator doors dinged, and you jumped so hard you almost hurt your neck.

“There’s my team!” Valentina said with a giant fake smile plastered on her face.  “My new Avengers!”  The way she called you hers like she owned you, brought that cold sweat and nauseous feeling back to you.  Bob grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly and sporadically.  That seemed to help.  You couldn’t get too far in your spiral before he squeezed again.

“What do you want Val,” Bucky said harshly.

“I assume you saw my speech,” she said shrugging nonchalantly.  “I’m here to go over the training regimen, press tours, your next assignments.”  Everyone tensed at her words.

“What makes you think we need a new member?  Or that Jinx is even a competent member of our team?” John said as he took a step in front of you.  He made it look like he was trying to take up Val’s line of vision, but it was very obviously an attempt to hide you.

“Oh, her luck will be a vital addition to your team,” Valentina said.  “We know that the Sentry project’s blood enhances her abilities for a short time.  So, we will need to do another transfusion, to prove to the scientific community and the shareholders that Jinx is the next big thing.”

You were shaking as you stood behind John.  Bob could feel the trembling in your hand and was doing his best not to look at you.  He wasn’t sure he could without looking at your belly. You wanted to be shaking from fear, or anger, anything other than desperation.  You hated the rush that you felt whenever you had the Sentry’s blood rushing freshly through your veins.  Your face felt warmth with shame, a stark contrast to the way the rest of your body was broken out in gooseflesh.

“You’re not touching her,” Alexi said.  The man was usually happy and excited, silly even.  It was easy to forget how large and intimidating he could be when he wanted to be.  Bob squeezed your hand, and it was enough to bring you from your thoughts.

“Fine, you can take her to a regular doctor for her superhero physical,” Valentina mocked.  “She and Robert can go to a superhero clinic and get their blood drawn there.  How are you with needles nowadays, Robert?”  Bob let go of your hand.  You knew the shame he felt.  Your emotional roller coaster came to a screeching halt as you snapped.  You pushed past John and went straight up to Valentina.  She looked almost smug as you got in front of her.

The was a resounding thwack followed by Valentina nearly falling over when your open hand connected with her cheek.  You didn’t see the looks on any of the Avengers’ faces but heard Alexi restraining from cheering.  Bucky had walked up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder to pull you away.  John grabbed hold of you, his arm around your chest as he literally hauled you away from her and out of the room.

“Ow,” She said as she straightened herself and rubbed at the red mark on her cheek.  “Now that we’ve gotten past that, can we discuss semantics?”

“She’s not going on any missions,” Bob said before he could stop himself.  He closed his eyes and bit his tongue.  He had done the thing everyone had been worried about.

“And why not?  With an arm like that, I can tell you have already been training her,” Valentina looked around the room at the silent faces.  “Whatever secret you think you’re hiding, I already know it.  You think I wouldn’t do my research after the ex-junkie here got into my program?”  Bob flinched at her words.

“Well, if you already know, then we don’t need to tell you,” Yelena said, calling her bluff.  Valentina scowled at her.

“I think you are just making things up because you don’t want me to have access to my projects.”  Valentina’s voice was low and had a dangerous edge to it.  Yelena made eye contact with Bucky.  Her statements proved that she didn’t know about the baby.  That gave them the upper hand.

“Alright, Val,” Bucky said in mock surrender.  “You win; you can have Jinx for your press tours as part of our team.  But we have some conditions.  She doesn’t go on missions with us unless she wants to.  And you don’t get to do any medical workups on her.”

“I’m going to regret this.  If I accept your terms, will you tell me this secret that you don’t think I know?  I need to know everything going on with my superheroes.”

“Everything?” Ava asked nervously.

“Everything and I get access to all her medical records going forward.  I won’t do them, but I will get copies, timely.”  The last part sounded like a threat.

“Fine,” Bucky said.  Bob’s head jerked.  He hadn’t expected this to be the way things went.  His body tensed with a feeling of betrayal.  Yelena sensed the shift in his mood instantly and moved to get him out of the room.

“Go, please,” she whispered ushering him out. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“She’s pregnant,” Bucky said levelly after he and Val had shaken hands.

“WHAT?” Valentina’s face looked like she was going to explode. “How?”

“With Bob, how do you think?” Ava said curtly.

“That wasn’t the plan!” Bob was too made to actually shout, but his body language and the way his irises flashed gold made it seem like he was.

“I know,” Yelena said holding her hands up and placating him.  “She was going to find out.  We had a chance to use the information to our advantage.  You and Jinx are going to be protected now.  You get to keep your promise.  No one is going to touch her.”  Bob was breathing heavily trying to regain his composure, hands shaking.

“That was a good hit, kid,” John whispered to you as he sat with you in your room.

“She deserved it,” You agreed.  You hadn’t shaken the rage or the fear and little tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes had started to roll down your cheeks.

“She did.  Listen, I know you might not believe it right now,” he said leaning down to catch your gaze.  “But you and Lucky, there,” he pointed at your belly, “Your family.  We’re going to keep you safe.  But that’s hard to do if you go around assaulting people.”

“Lucky?” You huffed as you stared at him.