-CONTAINS SMUT-
Taken from an asylum you've been a part of the Avengers since 2012. Under house arrest and jumping from mission to mission you were tired. After Natasha broke you and the rest of team Cap out you were assigned to a mission in Wakanda...
"Hello," a low chilling voice met your ears. You faced the direction of the voice to see a man with one arm and long hair hauling stacks of hay to your hut.
"You look like Jesus," you joked. He grunted and threw a bag of hay over his shoulder.
"Nice to meet you too," he laughed.
"Oh we're doing formalities. In that case do you want a hairtye?" You offered.
"Why the hell not," he shrugged. You grinned smugly and held your hand up. A glimmering purple wave washed over your hand, leaving behind a black elastic.
"Wow okay, Gandalf." He laughed and plucked the band from the palm of your hand.
"I'm Y/n, by the way." You informed.
"Bucky," he replied shortly.
"Do you need help?" You gestured hay that was resting heavily on his wide shoulder.
"You can try," he laughed you off. A challenging smile grew on your face. You clapped your hands together and each stack of hay began floating gently in the air. The bags followed your hands motions to the troph at the side of the house. Bucky watched you, impressed until all the work was complete.
"I tried," you shrugged nonchanlantly.
"Oh hush," he rolled his eyes and began to walk towards the enterance of the hut. You scrambled to walk beside him.
"This is my humble abode, well our humble abode," he told you. He showed of the quirks of the house, like how the bathroom door needed extreme force to be opened and how the back left burner of the stove didn't work.
"How long have you been here?" You asked as he handed your a glass of lemonade. He let out a huff air and gave a thinking look.
"I'd say about a year," he finally responded.
"Oh shit so its 2017 now?!" You choked on your beverage. He nodded and hand you a paper towel.
"Yea, where have you been?" He joked.
"Prison." You said plainly. His mouth formed an 'o' shape and he patted you awkardly.
"Wait, I thought you fought on Tony's side," he tilted his head in confusion.
"I did, but I helped Steve because he was the only one who really cared for me when I was at the compound." You explained briefly, not wanting to delve into your past.
"Did those stuck up 'heros' not like you? You seem pretty likeable to me," he he replied.
"I was practically a prisoner, nobody actually wanted me there but Fury. I was useful during New York. Thats why they took me," you sighed.
"Took you?" He breathed out. Instead of responding, you sat up and trudged carefully into the second bedroom Bucky had shown you earlier. The twin sized bed sat in the corner with a nightstand by its side. The walls were a creamy white and a bright yellow curtain draped over the singular window. There was an additional door that lead to a small closet and desk up against the wall.
With your magic, you redecorated. Your favorite color replace the basic white bedsheets and curtains. Small nick-nacks and pictures shimmered themselves onto the desk. A brand new wardrobe filled the tiny closet.
You picked up one of the pictures you summoned and examined it. The white frame housed a photo of you in an asylum with your best friend Kate. A deep sigh escaped from your lips.
You blinked your eyes hard to push away the memories of the asylum. You knew you were never going back. S.H.I.E.L.D made sure of it. Flashbacks forced themselves into your mind. Each memory reminding you of where you came from and out of place you felt.
*
"Why am I here!?" You screamed in the face of a woman who stood a few feet in front of you. Her hair was in a low bun and few curls were out, framing her face. She wore and a brown blazer with a matching brown pencil skirt. Under her blazer was a white tanktop. She chuckled lightly at the tears that were now streaming down your face.
"You're a witch," she hissed, "you're a danger to society." She told you. You felt a burning sensation dig into your skin. A large man from behind you had branded you with a large red 'W'. You shrieked in pain and begged for him to stop.
"Please, I haven't hurt anyone!" You cried. Your tears were now dripping down and staining the thin hospital gown they had put you in.
"It's ok, we'll fix you." She grinned. In a flash you were being dragged by the hair down a long hallway. Your feet slapping the cold floor as you struggled to keep up with the woman.
"Treat her for Darkhold magic." The woman ordered once you made it to a room with shiny silver medical equipment.
"I'll need to shave her," an old man with a kind face said sympathetically.
"Do what you must, Stan." The woman replied and with that, she stormed out of the room.
"Sorry, sweetie." Stan told you before buzzing your hair off slowly.
*
You reached up to feel your hair that had grown back short since. A startling knock met your ears, you dropped the picture but quickly caught it with your magic.
"I'm making dinner, what do you want?" Bucky asked softly as he leaned on your doorway.
"Tacos sound good, I'll help you," you croaked and placed the photo back down onto the desk.
Bucky worked on the stove, cooking the meat while you aggressively chopped vegetables on the counter beside him. Once you flipped your knife into the air and it landed wedged into the wooden cutting board.
"What the hell? Are you crazy?" Bucky gasped with his hands held up blocking his head and face.
"Extremely," you responded calmly. His head tilted involuntarily which seemed to be something he did a lot.
"You really are something else," he commented and turned the knob of the burner. The flame disappeared and shortly after the sizzling ceased.
"I'm quite the character," you responded and flipped the knife one last time before tossing it into the sink.
"I don't trust you around knives anymore.." He replied jokingly.
*
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