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Uncharted

Summary:

Born with the power of creating portals, you are thrown into the lives of the Avengers, a team of heroes who fight battles from those who can't. You're time there is eventful, you form bonds and friendships and one day you lay eyes on one James Buchanan Barnes. His story breaks your heart, and all you can do is help. Who knows? He might even like you.

Author's note:

Hello Hello! I am the author! My name is Terry and please join me on this messy joyride that is me writing this fic... My posting schedule is absolutely atrocious and I sincerely apologize, there is an explanation like midway through... Come over and read this complete jumble of emotions, or don't, or do? Although one thing I do ask is to leave comments, only if you want to of course, BUT if you do I will always respond and I am always eternally grateful!

Notes:

-- completely unnecessary plug--

If you have the time on your hands OR you are procrastinating (in which case go study! or work! or whatever it is that you are supposed to be doing) BUt you want a quick read, I have a couple of other works that you can discover if you go ahead and click on my username @t_dreams. There's a Tony Stark/ Reader and a Frank Castle/ Karen Page... And coming up is a WinterIron fic... Only if that interest you since I know a lot of people don't necessarily ship WinterIron!

As always this isn't in any way, shape or form me forcing you lovely readers to check out my stuff :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Unknown Location. Hydra Base

 

A venomous voice leaks through the thin walls of the dingy underground base.

“How did you let him slip through your grasp?” The dangerous women asks. She sits on a chair that stood a foot higher than everyone else. Her demeanour seemed calm, her face as cold as stone, yet her voice was dripping with anger and her eyes held so much contempt.

A yellow light bulb hung right overhead, casting a shadow over her face. Only her hands and feet were visible. She was gripping the armrest of her throne with vice and her long legs were crossed and laid diagonally to the floor. Long emerald green boots with sharp teeth adorning the sides glinted in the dim light, threat seeping through every pore.

A man kneeled before her. He was of average height, grey hair slowly taking over his brown locks. His frame was built, but obviously older than most agents. He wore scrappy clothing, his pants were repaired more than once and there were streaks of mud on his boots.

“I-I I don’t know, ma’am. He-e somehow took out all th-the trackers. We c-can’t find them.” he stutters, he’s on his knees hands clutching his sleeves to prevent them from shaking.

“So, you are telling me, that you lost track of the Asset?” she hisses. “You had ONE job.” Her voice finally giving away some of the anger she felt.

“I’m sorry, Madame Viper, please spare me, we will find him again.” He pleads with her.

“Your pathetic attempt at an apology is useless. You are useless. I had high hopes for you Zemo. But, you just let me down.” Madame Hydra tuts. A moment of tense silence goes by, she finally lifts an elegant hand up. Her fingers wrapping delicately around the velvet leather of her whip, she swings her arm back and strikes him right in the throat, leaving him bleeding to death on the floor. She sighs as she signals some other soldier to take the body away and clean up the mess.

The rest of the audience of the room perks up, standing straighter as her unforgiving gaze passes through them.

“Find him.” She commands, and that’s all the persuasion they need before scurrying off to accomplish their task, hoping that the Lord will spare them of the wrath that is Madame Hydra.

 

 

Stark Tower, Avengers Base

 

 

Avengers, please go to Conference room B, an urgent meeting has been called on by Nick Fury, F.R.I.D.A.Y says through the coms. Collective groans echo through the common room as the members of the team of heroes begrudgingly get up and hurry to the conference room.

Steve is already there leaning on the far wall and Director Fury stands tall, arms linked behind his back.

“God, it’s barely noon, why are we here?” Tony whines, he rubs tiredly at his eyes,

“Maybe if you weren’t hungover all the god damn time, you’d be awake enough to get here without bitching.” the director shot back.

“Language.”
As the group settles down, Fury speaks up.
“We have found a potential new recruit,” he pauses as Maria hands out manila files to the Avengers, “We’ve been monitoring her for the last couple of months and she seems to be a perfect match.”

“That’s what you always say.” Tony yawns.

“It’s true.” Sam snickers.

“Alright, settle down, folks. From what we’ve seen she’s mastered more martial arts styles then I can count, she has the mutant ability to create portals and she has an intelligence that can match that of Tony’s and maybe even Banner.” The room goes silent and more than a few eyebrows raise.

“We’ll need two of you to extract the newbie tonight at around nine o’clock, understood?”
Fury says. “I want Cap on this one, whoever goes with him is your decision.” He points at all of them. With one last hard stare towards Tony, Nick exits the room, Maria trailing not far behind.

The moment the door closes, the room fills with uproar.

“Why doesn't Wanda go? She’s a girl, she’ll do better with another chick.” Tony shouts.

“Don’t speak to my sister like that.” Pietro retorts.

“Why don’t you go with Stevie, he likes you best.” Nat asks Sam, he rolls his eyes in response. “I’ve already checked on newbies, last time didn’t go well, I’m not going this time.”

“You know what, Vision should go.” Clint suggests. “I”m pretty sure we shouldn’t send in the red, powerful, synthetic being to go get the newbie. For all, we know he’ll just pass through the wall of this girl’s apartment.” Tony snaps back. They all nod in agreement.

“You know what,” Steve speaks up, taking the powerful ‘Cap voice’,” Tony you’re coming with me.”

“What?” The man cries out in shock.

“Yep, Tony, you’re coming with me whether you like it or not. Everyone in this room has been sent to scout a new recruit at least once, except for you.” Tony gives him an ‘I’m done with your Star spangled ass’ look.

He groans, “Fine. But, you’re buying me shawarma.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“We’re leaving at 8:30 pm”.

Everyone exits the room to do whatever heroes do on their day off.

 

 

——————————

 

Your POV

“Ok, avocados, roman lettuce, cucumbers, olive oil, coconut oil, tomatoes, milk, oranges, strawberries…” you were walking through the isles of your local grocery store, going through your mental checklist making sure you didn’t forget anything.

You placed the items in your cart and once you were confident you didn’t forget anything, you went to pay.

“Would you like a bag?” The 16-year-old snot-nosed cashier asked you.

“Yes, please.” You answer. He nonchalantly passes you two plastic bags, not bothering to actually help you on this ‘very’ busy Wednesday evening. You carry your groceries to your second-hand car, get in, and drive back to your tiny 3 1/2 apartment. How strangely domestic, you thought to yourself.

Yet, you liked it. As a kid, you were always one for adrenaline. After your parents died, you were passed through so many foster homes, it was an ironic game of hot potato. You ended up leaving the system and fending for yourself. The powers definitely helped out a lot. You found out you had them when you were maybe twelve, almost thirteen. You were running away from some bullies and ended up cornered in an alley, instead of panicking, you just ran straight through the wall. Throughout the years, you trained yourself to be a strong and independent woman, studying hard in school and training hard on your own.

You hummed to the generic song on the radio when you turn the corner of the street that leads to your apartment. You lived in a quiet part of Manhattan that was a little sketchy but you didn’t mind. The old building was made out of classic red bricks with stairs leading up to each apartment complex.

You juggle your groceries and try to open your door without dropping your keys. You don’t want to be the victim in a cheesy horror movie.

You flick the lights open and walk into your tiny home. It’s small but cozy. Right behind the front door are a small hallway where you put down your jacket, your shoes and your keys. You walk down a couple of steps and there’s your kitchen, dining table, couch and TV. And, when you go back to the hallway on the left, there’s your bedroom.

You drop all your groceries in the kitchen to take a quick shower.

After, you start cooking your dinner. As a kid you had a lot of free time, so all you did was absorb information, as much as you could take in. You didn’t make friends to easily, partially because you were shy, but mostly because you didn't trust easily. You were always suspicious, your father taught you to be. When you started living on your own, you were so focused on your studies and your training that not having much of a social life never really bothered you. Friends came and went, but you somehow always ended up on your own.

You connect your phone to your wireless speaker and start playing some music. You press shuffle and the loud guitar riffs of Iron Man by Black Sabbath fills your ears. You start cutting up the ingredients and adding some oil to the pan, adding the onions in and letting the caramelize slowly. Another song comes to an end. You’re left with the gentle sizzle of th—.

“I like her already, she has good taste in music.” You hear a somehow familiar voice come from right outside your apartment door. You could tell that there were two men standing outside your home. You silently close the stove and turn off your phone. You walk carefully to your room, avoiding the creaky wooden panels. You pull out your 9mm and put your back to the wall waiting for their next move. They sounded pretty nice, but you were always cautious.

“Hi, (Y/n). Could you let us in? We would like to talk to you about a sensitive topic that would be better discussed in private.” The second voice said. How the hell does he know my name?
You don’t respond.

 

 

———————

 

Steve’s POV

“Tony you can’t just break down the door!” He tells him. Jesus, what was he thinking?

“No, of course not. I can’t break down the door… but you can.” The smaller man says happily as if he just cracked the Da Vinci Code. The Captain puts a hand to his head and sighs disapprovingly.

“(Y/n), we promise we aren’t going to hurt you. Just open the door please.” He prods gently.

“Are you serious? ‘We aren’t going to hurt you’,” he repeats mockingly,” you heard Fury, she’s smart, that won’t work.” Steve rolls his eyes for what seems like the millionth time today, that’s the effect Tony has on people.

“Ok, we’re coming in.” “Finally.”

He lays his hand on the handle and easily twists it off the door, it swings back with a small creak. The smell of a dinner being cooked immediately fills their noses.

“Jeez, she can cook too?” Tony whispers.

The apartment was tiny, he could barely fit in the first hallway that leads to the kitchen, thank god he didn’t bring his shield, he would've been stuck. The stove was obviously left in a hurry, the spatula left messily to the side, the pan was still emitting a bit of steam; she’s still here. He hears Tony click on his gadget thing over his wrist and holds it up instinctively.

He motions his hand toward the door that’s about six feet away from them. She’s in there.

A small gush of wind blows their face and they stare at each other confusedly. A small swoosh accompanied by Tony yelping and swearing forces him to turn around in the tight space. He sees Tony, now kneeling on the floor, his mini propellor useless on the side with his hands in handcuffs behind his back.

“What the FUCK lady?” Tony yells. He turns around again and sees a small woman with (h/c) hair holding a gun up. She was wearing a loose AC/DC shirt with a pair of comfortable looking grey shorts.

“Who are you and why did you break into my apartment?” she asks, her voice calm and collected.

“Look, we just wanted to talk, we promise we aren’t here to harm you in any way.” he says reassuringly. She scoffs. “Are you serious?”

“I told you it wouldn't work.” Tony remarks from behind him. She tilts her head to the side and stares intently at him.

She squints to get try and decipher who it was that broke into her house. The lack of light definitely wasn't helping, but the famous blonde hair and blue-eyed superhero left her mouth agape. "Well fuck me sideways."

Iron Man laughs: "Steve, she said a bad language word."

"Oh shut up."

"Lover's quarrel? Or care to explain why the fuck is the living embodiment of American justice and the Top 1 search on Pornhub, both on the floor of my apartment."

Roger's looked like he was about to burst and Tony, well... Tony burst.

"AHAHAH oh my god. Steve... Steve!!"

"Alright come on. Can you please let him go?" It looked like she hadn't even realized the man (IRON Man), was still tied up. She opened another portal thing and unlocked the cuffs she'd put on him.

Iron Man stands up and cracks his neck. "You know, not everyone can get me into handcuffs. Unless we're talking about bedroom stuff." He winks, Steve rolls his eyes. "That takes some skills." He finally adds, his tone a tad more serious. "How do the portals work?"

"Great question. I'll be happy to answer you guys in the living room." The message was clear, the two men made way to the couch as they watch her sit on the kitchen counter.

"You know, the fact that this isn't the strangest thing that has ever happened to me definitely says something about me and my life."

"Ya... it does."

"Tony..."