Work Header

Pretty Girls Are Always Okay

Chapter Text

When they met her, she was dancing. Rock music blaring daringly, her jean-clad hips were swaying, rising the cutoff shorts just enough for them to notice black smudges on each of her outer thighs. Milky white hands in the air, her fists were clenched loosely, showing off the tattoo on her left arm, X-Ray styled, arm and hand bones tattooed on her skin right over their proper place underneath the flesh.

She sang along with a smile in her voice, contrasting with jagged male vocals on the record, more yelling than singing, really, to a once famous song, but they couldn't discern any lyrics, staring in confusion and awe at the curvy, short teenager whose back was turned to them, the loud music hiding their entrance to the living room on the 63rd floor.

Even Tony, notorious for never shutting up, had nothing to say in that moment. A breath was taken collectively, all four people shifting uncomfortably on their feet as the music dropped down to a sultry guitar riff, the girl sang along none the quieter: - Squeeze me baby... 'til the juice runs down my leg!

- Uh, - Tony blinked twice, before quietly adding, - Led Zeppelin, - as if that would be the obvious explanation to what was happening. Bucky side-eyed the engineer for a brief moment then averted his eyes to Steve, who had a faint blush rising high on his prominent cheekbones. Pietro just stuffed his hands in the pockets of a grey hoodie he was wearing, not averting sharp gaze from the girl's curvy hips. Bucky lightly punched speedster's shoulder to which the younger man just shrugged in return.

Wanda appeared from a room on the right side, giving appreciative looks to the mysterious dancer, as she slowly and pointedly turned to the flabbergasted men by the door.

- You have acquired an audience, Blue, - the witch pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest, indicating her distaste of the superhero behaviour. All of them blushed and forced themselves to feign relaxed stances, scrambling to conceal gawking and peeping on what was intended to be a private moment.

Bucky strode over to the nearest couch and sat down, Steve mirroring his actions a short moment later, albeit with much less grace. Tony leaned against the counter of a kitchenette that stood next to the entrance door, all shining stainless steel and modern black marble while Pietro zapped to hug his twin sister, unashamedly staring at the newcomer.

Wanda had said the girl's name was Blue, everyone quietly admitting to themselves it fit perfectly. Her hair, intricately braided, possessed a bright shade of blue at most length, it's tips dyed a cyan color, curling up below her buttocks; her shirt was sky blue, large white print stretched across her breasts, large round globes seemingly comically large compared to teenager's thin waistline. Soft blue sparkle-covered kneesocks fell loosely scrunched around Blue's calves, as shapely and light as the rest of her body.

- Hi guys! - Blue did a tiny wave, barely raising and wiggling her palm and Bucky spied another tattoo, that of a crossed circle inside a triangle, on the inside of her wrist. Ex-assassin duly noted the Harry Potter reference and filed it away for later conversations.

Everyone smiled in greeting, getting past the awkward moment while Bucky studied girl's body language, the way she stood; confident and relaxed, her hip cocked to the side, but her back staring firmly to the wall, torso angled a few degrees towards Wanda.

The ex-Winter Soldier examined her face, subtly, her smile bright, excited, but not fully reaching her brown-green eyes, the little frown lines between her eyebrows, unnaturally straight and dark yet somehow fitting. Blue's wide, pointy nose twitched every now and then, her lips looked bitten thoroughly, indicated by their bright red hue.

The girl was attractive, petite yet curvy, with a major case of doll face that made her look very young, however the general look in her brow made her beauty uncanny.

She had a distinctive "I've seen shit and then some" air around her, tenuous little behaviourisms of a person used to being kept at wits end. Bucky allowed himself a tiny frown, not more than a twitch of his lips, succumbing to his mistrust for a brief moment.

With the utmost screening that Pepper Potts had done, have scrapped every last fleck of dirt on the kids that they invited to Tony's tower, Barnes surely kept his trained eyes for possible plants. He was almost a hundred percent sure it was a possibility to plant an enemy operative, relatively easily, amongst six teenagers from a small eastern European country; organizations like Hydra and the likes did not have any qualms about recruiting and brainwashing youngsters and sending them on suicide missions.

And this would be one, Bucky decided to himself. He was sure his team, his newfound family, would disagree with him, nonetheless he was holding a very personal grudge against Hydra in particular and had wowed himself to destroy without questioning any part of them he would stumble upon in further lifetime. Taking in mind the data Tony and newly reformed SHIELD had been uncovering, the thinnest possibility of a random wildcard attacking Steve, their family, him, sent adrenaline flowing in his veins and murder on his mind. He would not take any risks, not when Steve was involved, any kind of information was not worth it. Bucky Barnes had enough of his lifetime stolen away.

He was startled out of his thoughts, Wanda's melodic chuckling quietly reverberating in the spacious living room. Bucky heard Sokovian being spoken by twins causing Blue's face to turn inquisitive with a pinch of confusion as she nodded in several rapid bobs, braids bouncing about her sides. The girl smiled widely at Pietro and replied in a melodic, dulcet language, stretching some of the wovels at ends of words and softening some of consonants in beginnings of phrases.

To Bucky, her language sounded like a mixture of Swedish and Polish, odd yet charming. The back of his brain worriedly noted never hearing said tongue yet a small part of him yearned to hear it being sung.

Tony had other thoughts: - Are you speaking Quenya? - the billionaire furrowed his brow, directing his question at the newcomer, curiosity radiating his poise.

She snorted indignantly and grinned at him, - Latvian, actually. But cookie points for Tolkien, even though I'm more of a Potter typa' gal.

Tony gasped and faked a heart wound, dramatically widening his eyes and gaping for a few short moments, - Tolkien is a saint and you are just unworthy of his genius! - and made a vague dismissive gesture with the hand that was not clutching his sternum.

His teammates followed with exasperated groans and eyerolls. Blue snorted again and made an undechipherable 'mmhmm' hum, tilting her head and blinking slowly.

She sparked an amused look before smirking playfully, inspecting her blue(surprise!) nail polish, - Well, - her eyebrows rose a tiny bit, - We Latvians are very limited edition, - Blue sported a know-it-all tone in her voice, - A little under two million people in the whole world, - Tony, Steve and Bucky answered with slightly surprised faces as she took on a softly mocking tone then, - We all could fit in a medium sized town, here, in America, no? - Blue spoke the way Maximoff twins often did, ending thir sentences with a question.

Blue's snark was met with a pregnant silence, however, she saw Tony opening his mouth and quickly interjected him, teasing, - Lookit you, snared yourself a whole six of us! - Was she flirting or mocking? - You are a greedy man, Anthony Stark.

Bucky was flabbergasted at the girl's bravado. Using just a few well chosen words and a cocked eyebrow, she successfully baited Tony and played him like a fiddle. Feeling a budding sympathy for the little spitfire, casting a glance at his best friend from the corner of his eye, Barnes snorted to himself - Rogers stared at her, completely smitten, the big dope he was. Steve was a sucker for a girl with character.

- Only the best for myself dearest, babe, - Tony found his words, grinning and expertly masking his surprise. The nickname he added at the end for good measure of keeping up with this verbal game Blue had started, to irk her. What kind of backdoor place she had come from, using his full name like that? Even media knew better: Tony utterly despised his full first name, - The name's Tony.

He didn't forget his manners and walked over to the teenager, fully intended on trapping her in what he hoped would be a uncomfortable invasion-of-personal-space hug, but she was faster, straightening up and outstretching her hand, her stance and palm open.

He shook Blue's hand maintaining brief eye contact. She gripped firmly, surely, grip proportioned evenly with a slight curl of her fingers, barely digging her fingernails on the side of his palm: a warning. Stark returned the shake with a cool confidence, a lingering latch and delicate strength, acknowledging yet dismissing Blue's threat.

Reading people by a handshake, a very important skill in business; Tony was taught it from the early days - and while a person could tailor it, the billionaire had years of experience in the field and felt a liar when he saw one but this situation was clean and clear.

The odd girl projected confidence, appeared to be determined and straightforward and low-key issued him a warning, don't fuck with me.

Or a dare. Tony was Tony.


Introductions were made ("Steve Rogers... ma'am!" "Oh my god, I'm not that old!", "James Barnes, please call me Bucky."), it appeared Blue already knew twin Maximoffs, judging by the way she kept close to Wanda who chatted happily in a mixture of Sokovian and English about some sort of food, the other female thoughtfully interjecting every now and then. Pietro smiled widely, happy that his sister was coming out of her shell and finding friends her age, he found Blue to be amusing and fairly intelligent, had gotten to know her better in the short time spent together.

That friendship was the reason The Avengers invited a bunch of young people to live with them.

The Maximoffs, while being useful assets to the team, remained teenagers still. Their childhood was plagued by war, fear and worry permanently etched on their faces, their teen years spent in HYDRA custody under lockdown and constant medical and psychological torture made both of them withdrawn and skittish, every rare minute twins spent in company of others was carefully threaded, both of them walking on eggshells and ready to bolt at the slightest disruption of their idyll. The teen superheroes rarely, if ever, experienced the playful, intoxicating freedom of youth, resenting any upcoming changes and protesting as much as they felt could get away with.

Even a nearly a year after Ultron and Sokovia, a year of relentless coaxing and streams of reassurances, of training and mastering their newfound abilities, of finding coping methods, Pietro and Wanda greatly struggled with their daily lives.

The former threw himself into work, picking up as many missions as his handler would allow, speeding from one place to another as if his pants were on fire, distancing himself from the team. His easygoing nature and sparkling blue eyes pleased the masses and the Avengers alike, made feeding them lies easier. He wanted to redeem himself, he wanted to help the people, to use his gifts for good - Pietro wore his boyish grin unlike Captain America wore his shield, hiding pent up sadness and resentment behind a false persona. It was the boy's superhero mask, invisible for all but one.

Wanda. She was a strange fruit, usually quiet and reserved, rarely ever showing hints of wry humor, more often than not preferring to mind her own business. Never seeking any action on her own, she spent her time in the corner of the common room with earbuds in her ears, observing and exploring, spending a good chunk of her pay on music, or with Pietro, in their rooms, privacy mode on.

Once she and Tony got over the initial awkwardness of their odd situation, genius relentlessly teased her about being a major edgelord, making a mission of disturbing her and making good-natured(Stark Style) jokes about brooding and sulking. He eventually resorted to nicknames after Wanda dryly threatened him with a lasting combo of constant sex dreams and erectile dysfunction. The girl was no prude, often laughing at teammates' perverted humor to Pietro's bashful giggling.

As the twins slowly blossomed at their team's insisting advance, they began to crave friendships outside of fast-paced, thrill-ladden world of agents and heroes. Had been enrolled in a public school, they dropped out quickly, experiencing trouble fitting in with the masses of pupils who wanted a piece of the popularity, the high life, not simply Wanda and Pietro. Understandably, finding someone with similar life experiences was out of the question - Wanda had tried volunteering at a refugee shelter but balked quickly, awful memories of wartime chaos resurfacing and drowning the girl in negativity.

She often spoke with Bucky in Sokovian, confessing her misery and how much she missed hearing her mother tongue, having simple things as the foods she was used to, the comfort of a small, quiet town. Life in New York suffocated the Witch with too many choices, and the ex-Winter Soldier shared her sentiment.


The solution came, unsurprisingly, from Pepper Potts.

One of her friends had been participating in a charity program that invited orphans from poor countries for all-included vacations in the USA; said friend had hosted various children from Poland, Latvia, Ukraine, of various ages, from pre-schoolers to teens.

Give them a nice environment, buy new clothes, an iPod maybe and take them to a theme park. Teach them something new, give a glimpse of family life. It was, undoubtedly, a wonderful opportunity for a lonely, poor kid to enjoy themselves for a bit. Sometimes hosting resulted in adoptions, large sibling groups and disabled kiddos weren't discriminated either.

Pepper discussed the option with her friend, coming to a unfortunate conclusion - none of the superheroes qualified for the program. Regulations concerning host families were strict. Taking in mind the dangerous lifestyle superheroes led, easy possibilities of attacks on their personas and subsequent reliants; nobody, except maybe Steve, would pass mental evaluations needed. Background checks were as ruthless as most Avengers' killcount.

A good, respectable agency would be out of their mind to send a child to live in such a volatile, unstable environment. Pepper understood that and agreed with the general idea all the while desperately searching for an option to make Maximoffs feel better. Potts truly felt sorry for their ruined childhood, and with responsibilities of saving the world falling upon the twins' shoulders, never giving them a rest.

The CEO of Stark Industries contacted every single influential person in the international hosting traffic and with some convincing from both financial side by making donations, advertising the program, and Captain America's charismatic persona, Pepper made a connection with a director of an orphanage in one of the small countries neighbouring Sokovia.

The institution was known as "the best" nationwide, strict rules representing great opportunities for parentless children, wealthy sponsors and most experienced staff. Director of said place, a stern woman in her late 50s, said to have worked at that orphanage for thirty-something years, found a way to grant Pepper Potts' wish for the twins to have a slice of something close to home, almost immediately.

Recent graduates of the foster system.

E-mails were sent and soon enough, Pepper embarked on a ten hour flight to interview eleven potential candidates.

Interviews were... interesting.

Majority of graduates that fit Pepper's criteria were girls: she was surprised how many foster kids, mostly boys, had learning disabilities, violent behaviour and drug problems. Every third teenager had some kind of criminal record ranging from petty theft to assault, and every single person above 15 years of age had at least two police reports on underage smoking and alcohol usage.

The CEO did not necessarily agree with hard punishments for the rebellious phases of teens, everyone went through it at some point in their lives, micromanaging was no way to let kids get life experience; at the same time she was glad to have the needed records distinguishing good apples from bad, drawing the line between rebellion and determined offense.

The Avengers most definitely would be dealing with press and Pepper took necessary precautions for both public image and the team's moral standards. Bad influence was not welcome in the newly created little family environment.

Four young ladies and a single young gentleman were chosen. All of them were offered a three-month stay at the Tower, educational summer courses, allowance and driving lessons.

Every teen signed a long contract, passed a lengthy background check both with SI and SHIELD and went through a crash course of self-defense, but tensions arose at due time - naturally curious and competitive, for the lack of polite phrasing, three of the girls created a clique of sorts.

Pepper Potts did not predict that and was ridiculously under-equipped to deal with twisted high school drama queens.


Enter one Sophia Brachman, a five foot two whirlwind of copious blue hair and determination. The soon-to-be twenty year old was a riddle wrapped in an enigma, a married mother of two and a fresh business woman, dealing her stakes in property management on the top market in her country, Sophia had a controversial past.

Have had arrived at the institution at the ripe age of fourteen, the staff quickly took affections with then-quiet, intelligent teenager despite overall negative review from the previous place she'd transferred from - a small Christian group home. The staff there had dubbed the teen extremely strong-willed, disobedient, secretive and lacking in moral character yet sharp-minded, going as far as describing Sophia machiavellistic in great detail, per contra to the first impressions she had created in her new home.

Brachman systematically excelled in her academics, competing nationally in several subjects, with older teens; most certainly she was not a child prodigy, Sophia adored learning and had a quick, witty mind.

She had a way with words, one member of staff had warned Pepper, twisting and turning her way out, escaping sticky situations with finesse. Another member chimed in, Sophia could be difficult, but always helped the ones who needed a hand, taking on a big-sister role for bunches of teens, applying her strong will and intelligence for good.

That rarely meant playing by the rules, and the social worker who told Pepper many a positive thing about Brachman, did so behind closed doors. He was a man of faith and gave his heart away for second chances, not at all blind to Sophia being a huge sore spot for director of the orphanage.

The reasons behind it were simple: an "undisclosed" incident lead Sophia, a gifted child, into heavy depression and subsequent bouts with drugs, rehabs and halfway-houses; staff had been oblivious to the girl's turmoil until it was painfully obvious to everyone else. Higer-ups of the foster system got a hold of the situation causing a true shitstorm, raining welfare and staff checks, yet Sophia remained withdrawn and ran away at any time, "ran away" been used roughly: she left for her boyfriend, living with him and working under-the-counter jobs after graduation while he struggled with medschool and a day job.

Rebellion resulted in a four and a half month placement in a mental institution for the girl. An actual loony bin with aggressive mentally ill.

Pepper was horrified.

The nice man had let her know, secretively, that placement had been a way to keep Sophie in the reigns for the sake of the orphanage, not her mental wellbeing, had dropped low key hints at the financial shortenings, reprimands from Juvenile Department and workers' underqualification amongst other problems.

CEO was relieved to hear Sophia's boyfriend had called the place on their bullshit via court and won the case. Being four years older than the teenager, who'd been sixteen at the time, he acquired enough evidence for her to be re-evaluated, the girl had passed the tests with flying colours. It had been discovered, her psychiatrist had never even seen her for a single appointment, therefore unlawfully issuing an order of immediate hospitalization.

The hearing had a written, notarized letter from Brachman, adding unlawful detainment by force (she had been grabbed on the street and tossed into a van with zero explanation), ignorance of sexual assault in the orphanage and threats to her loved ones and friends. The orphanage plead no hard evidence and only two people were fired.

Soon after the second, final hearing, she officially had moved in with her boyfriend, Claus, and fell pregnant a few months past. They married a short while after welcoming their daughter, Sophia being 17 and Claus 21. Their son was born a year later.

The few last things the nice man had heard from other graduates, Sophia and her family had received a good sum for damages subsequently investing it in property, hitting the jackpot, acquiring a small fortune and multiplying it day by day.

Pepper Potts was tempted to do something nasty to these people that claimed to protect and house children in need; kind staff worker had simply announced that Sophia was too smart for her own good and all that happened was a result of continuous rebellion. The girl didn't know better than to pick the wrong battles.

Potts saw their side but didn't agree: Brachman had a hefty load upon her shoulders, supporting her fellow orphans, excelling academically and trying to figure out life while still being barely but a kid.

She had no living relatives, her mother left her on a doorstep of a friend's and ran off abroad in search of greener pastures and never came back. Sophia was said to always stay tight-lipped about her first eleven years of life, citing her mother was "good enough until she was no more", letting people know her parent was as dead to her as any.

Pepper was inclined to think Sophia was in survival mode since day one yet was curious to meet the teen with the best intentions and the worst reputation. Her decision swayed towards the positive answer even more after learning that Brachman and the rest of the girls used to be friends.


She dialled Sophie, anxiously listening to the beeps.

- Sofija Brahmane, klausos? - a tired, raspy voice greeted the CEO; she figured calling the girl on her work phone might avoid creeping her out, it was publicly available on her LinkedIn, after all. Pepper made sure to use a non-blocked number herself, one that was also available semi-publicly to zero clearance persons and was associated with SI, hoping to gain a silver of Sophia's trust early on. God only knows, she'll need plenty.

She did not expect a flurry of unfamiliar language that came, however, and took a breath before answering: - Hello, this is Pepper Potts of Stark Industries calling, - a not-quite-gasp reached her hearing as she spoke: - I'd like to offer you a deal...


They arranged a business dinner, at Sophia's insistence, the restaurant of Italian cuisine, small and private, all hand-embroidered handkerchiefs and home made wines. It was far from fine dining establishments but stood proudly in the famous old part of the small country's capital, on a cobblestone street surrounded by semi-renovated buildings, some three or four centuries old.

Pepper called the reservation name, arriving early, and was shown to a small table in a corner next to a large wooden window, made Victorian-style, bright white framed and double-paned. She idly watched tourists wander around photographing and appreciating the architecture; feeling impressed by the atmosphere of this city, bemusedly admiring the way Sophia played her cards, impressing the CEO with a beautiful view of her home, a gesture that spoke for itself.

A throat cleared in front of Pepper and she smiled apologetically to the young woman that had arrived at the table. She was beautiful in a way that Pepper never was, even in her youth. Fair, baby-faced and curvaceous as opposed to Potts' tan, tall slim figure. Sophia was dressed head-to-toe in Michael Kors, a maroon velvet pantsuit, black open toed five inch high heels, holding a black leather tote in her arms. A choker-like necklace decorated the arch of her throat, diamonds sparkling mischievously in the soft lights of the restaurant.

For a nineteen year old, Sophia had class and elegance that many older women didn't; small tweaks gave her a personality, like staying away from plain colours and fabrics but appropriating her attire still. Businesswear, unfortunately, did not have a wide range of choices if one wanted to look professional.

- You must be madame Potts, - Sophia stated matter-of-factly, smiling coolly and politely. Pepper smelt a hint of spiced alcohol and tobacco invading the air between them.

- Miss Brachman, it's my pleasure, - the CEO replied, sincerity prominent in her voice, - I have been told you might be the perfect person for resolving a little situation!

As Pepper quietly explained the whole story, she watched Sophia's left eyebrow rise higher and higher with each spoken sentence. By the end of her tale, the girl was frowning, not touching her food but twiddling her thumbs in a nervous expression.

- And I should risk my family being hunted down by Hydra for association with their biggest enemies, exactly why? - That stern, icy tone threw Pepper for a loop and she took a moment to gather herself while Sohia continued, - Don't give me your shit about security protocols! Your Breakfast Club and their associates have files on them all over the hidden and dark web, even a noob like me could find them in five clicks, - Sophia stated flatly and that surprised Pepper - Tony and JARVIS had done an immediate clean-up. She set a mental reminder to call Tony ASAP.

It must have shown on her face because the teen made a vague go-ahead gesture and pulled her own smartphone, not even bothering to hide the sound of Candy Crush. Pepper was unsure if the girl was being rude on purpose or genuinely didn't care what others thought about her.

Taking note of time zone differences, Pepper shot Tony a voice text, voicing her concerns yet hoping the engineer is sleeping at night for once. Experiencing no luck, she immediately received a snarky "I want this kid, when can I get her?". Potts pursed her lips in distaste and prepared to apologize yet Brachman took a single look at her and started giggling quietly.

The rest was history. Temperature of their conversation rose significantly and they entered the barter territory - Brachman had wealth, family, friends, therefore Pepper was unsure what to offer. As it turned out, Sophia's price was immigration in a couple of years' time and the moving of property business to U.S. alongside paid higher education for both her her husband.

He was an ER nurse and wanted to advance and get a Masters degree in Genetics, Sophia had yet to finish last year of High School, or at least the paperwork part, as she had an eye for Forensic Pathology in her future. She stated so with a smile and Pepper allowed herself to be creeped out a tiny bit - what kind of person would want to cut open rotting corpses?

By the end of same week Pepper met Brachman's family. Sophia's husband and son were both quiet and calm, the oldest male seemed a little socially awkward but sported a dark sense of humor so common amongst medics. Their daughter was a carbon copy of Sophia, shaking Pepper's hand with as much confidence a nearly-three-year old could put together upon meeting an exceptional adult.

Potts allowed herself to feel a pang of regret for disrupting the young family's life. The children, given that they behaved older and proved to be uniquely observant, needed their mother close; Pepper was wary of being the reason of something happening to Sophia.

Her internal monologue of doubt was interrupted by Brachman's daughter, as she put a hand on her knee and told Pepper in heavily accented English her mother will do just fine, all of them relaxed and the plans for travel were made over a cup of coffee, as the children played quietly in the living room.

Only upon returning to New York, Pepper Potts remembered the eerie calm and acceptance that surrounded her after younger Brachman's small monologue, but chalked it to a child's natural cuteness. Her life was strange enough without little kids projecting their willpower onto her.

Chapter Text

As the older men watched the Maximoff twins interact with Blue, they happily noticed how relaxed Wanda acted around the girl. The witch could literally read minds, and if she looked at the other girl like an excited puppy, well, Blue was at least okay in their books.

The Avengers, minus the twins and Clint who was still recovering from an earlier fight with one supervillain or another, had left for a lead on a terrorist organization in South Africa a couple of hours before Blue landed in JFK. It took them three days to bag and tag all the human scum that had been trafficking enhanced weapons all over the Middle East, arriving home in the early morning hours and going straight to sleep.

The team all but forgot about their newest addition in post-battle exhaustion until Jarvis notified them during breakfast, naturally, Tony was up and dashing to poke at the newcomer before anyone could even blink. Steve sighed and abandoned his breakfast in favour of keeping Tony from going overboard and ovewhelming the kid, Bucky grudgingly following suit. They met up with Pietro, who was coming to fetch Wanda, in the elevator.

As it turned out, they needn't worried, as Blue could throw Tony's sarcastic jabs right back where they came from. It appeared she and Wanda had made a great connection in the past three days, too, and knowing the little witch - well, this is bound to get interesting very fast, Bucky thought.

- So you want some food, Harley Quinn? - Tony jumped up, turning towards the elevator, looking at Blue over his shoulder, - We got a breakfast on the common floor if you're into that sort of thing, coffee, stuff.

- It's too early to eat but I'll join ya, - Blue replied, - Lead the way, Mister Wayne, - she shot Tony a crooked grin full of mischief, pulling Wanda by hand to follow Tony into the elevator.

- I'm so much cooler than Batman, - Tony remarked grumpily as the supersoldier duo and a speedster followed suit and piled into the elevator.

- Alrighty then, Alfred, - she snorted, pulling out a smartphone and tapping away, not even lifting her eyes as they reached the common floor. Wanda put her arm around the newcomer's waist, steering her towards the kitchen. Tony, Steve and Bucky followed, sharing a look at the obvious display of trust, amused at Blue's antics.


The kitchen on the common floor was built in a homely kind of way, despite the concrete and glass appearance of the Avengers Tower.

It was not a very large room, but easily accommodated everyone. Shiny white countertops stood along the walls, the counters themselves made of light wood with beautiful flower ornaments carved onto little doors and drawers, rounded brass knobs a dull shine on each little door. Matching pantries hung above cooking sufaces. A large six-ring stove stood in between counters matching a kitchen exhaust vent, all made of some sleek dark metal.

Most of free space was occupied by one kind of food or another, Blue spied, a toaster and a waffle machine hid amongst seemingly endless piles of pancakes, fruit and syrup. There must have been at least six different kinds of jelly and four kinds of chocolate sauce.

A square shaped high table stood in the middle, surrounded by four barstools on each of the three sides while the fourth loomed with more food along with various dirty and clean cups of cocoa, coffee and tea.

In retrospect, the kitchen held a feast worthy of a god. Blue exhaled slowly from behind the safety of her phone screen, not lifting her eyes, carefully observing everyone's whereabouts as subtly as she could. She found grounding in Wanda, focusing on the redhead's arm around her waist and reassuring calm she was sending across their mental connection.

Blue schooled her thoughts on the e-mail she was answering, forcing her own body to relax and lose its rigidity. Fake it 'til you make it, she sent to Wanda in response to curiosity radiating across mental bridge built between them.

Everyone was gathered in the kitchen, chatting noisily among themselves - Thor, Loki and Bruce Banner sat at the table, the latter looking as uncomfortable as he could be, frowning at the noise, both Asgardians shovelling an impressive amount of waffles in a speed worthy of an eating contestant. Natasha Romanoff sat on the other side of the table surrounded by four girls, all wearing identical awestruck/wary faces as she told them some story in Russian that involved a short dress and hidden guns.

Blue quickly tuned them out and lifted her eyes, instantly meeting Clint Barton's goofy grin. Judging by the lewd lyrics and upbeat tempo of the tune that played from speakers somewhere in the far left corner of the room, it was his turn to pick music that would be accompanying meals today. Clint Barton was an actual, 100% gangsta and therefore listened to trashy modern rap and innuendo-filled r'n'b.

Well, that explained the frowning looks from Tony and Steve, distributed between Clint and the speakers.

Blue made a beeline for a vacant seat next to the archer, dragging Wanda behind, subsequently pulling the witch to sit in her lap where the latter parked herself without any questions.

The curvy teen attempted a theft by pulling a piece of toast from Clint and let out a squawk when Clint slapped her hand and dragged his dish away from her prying fingers: - Clinton, don't be such a cunt! Sharing is caring!

That gave her back a raised eyebrow from Natasha, who turned to sneak a look at the new girl. Loki raised a brow as well, his brother dropping his utensils noisily before swallowing his food and booming: - Warmest welcome to you, I am Thor and this is my brother Loki! - pointing at himself and the raven haired Asgardian next to him.

- My name's Blue and it's a pleasure meeting you, Princes, - the teen nodded in their direction, succeeding at another attempt of stealing the resident archer's breakfast. Happy with the result, she munched on procured piece of toast, sipping occasionally at a can of Monster energy drink Wanda had levitated from the fridge together with a coke for herself.

- There is no need for such formality, we are friends here and I am looking forward to an opportunity to call you that, too!

Thunderer grinned, 1000 watt of unrestraied hope and happiness directed at Blue, while his brother grumbled: - At least, mortal took note of my proper titles!

Blue shot him an utterly unimpressed look: - Look, I get you are the resident edgelord, - someone must have explained what the phrase meant judging by narrowing of the Asgardian's eyes, - but that don't impress me much. I'm obviously edgier and cooler than you, - there it was, the mocking-flirting tone flowing freely from the teen's lips. She wiggled her bone-tattooed fingers at Loki, smirking.

God of Mischief barked out a sharp laugh, - I like her!

- So sweet, - Blue mockingly cooed. - What a coincidence! I like myself too!

Clint and Thor burst out laughing quickly followed by Wanda and Loki, Blue grinning triumphantly into the can of her drink.

That attracted everyone's attention and promptly started a conversation about many a silly thing, friendly banter raising in volume.


Bucky took the back seat amongst conversing teammates and guests, opting to eat his apple in the back of the kitchen leaning on the enormous window that overlooked the balcony.

It's been a good while since he had moved in with Steve, almost right away after regaining most of his memories.

No amount of horrible things could keep him away from Steve, as soon as he admitted that to himself it became much easier to accept the other man's affection and love. It was not easy, he still struggled, yet Barnes had lost a good deal of Winter Soldier's ruthlessly cold persona, locking up the rest safely under control, summoning it at will in sticky situations, managing day-to-day life as himself, James Buchanan Barnes.

He had carved a place on the team with his own hands, taking Steve's six o'clock like he always was meant to; gaining his team's trust had been a slow, painful ordeal - looking in the eyes of the man whose parents he killed, or the child, now a woman, he used to fight and order to kill other children and almost finished her off years later himself, those hurts he inflicted on them still made him want to hurt himself in return to balance the reassurance that was poured on him.

He was not religious, his fucked up brain simply did not compute this "turn the other cheek" shit he was given by his newly acquired teammates, but it made Steve happy, and that was all that mattered.

Bucky watched. He was good at being still, so that was what he did.

The Avengers' guests didn't pose much interest to the former assassin. All of them typical new-age teenagers, always tapping away on their phones, using words he didn't understand, chasing trends he didn't care for. Making starry eyes at Steve and Thor when they thought no one was watching, believing every single word that came out of Natasha's mouth, listening to senseless music. None of what they did made any sense or appealed to him.

Bucky fully embraced the "grumpy old man" persona in his mind, seeing that strangers were occupying his home he had to keep his public face on almost 24/7. He and Steve never came out to public, so any display of affection beyond friendly was confined to their private quarters only. Remembering his own time spent hiding in Eastern Europe, he recalled people there being homophobic in general; Barnes abandoned PDA in favour of keeping possibilities of conflict as low as possible.

Bucky truly wanted Wanda and Pietro to feel better about their lives, so keeping his hands to himself for a summer didn't seem much to ask, he'd had worse restrictions placed on him; taking mind of circumstances surrounding his mental state there was a handy excuse to whisk his Steve away to the nearest utility closet any time.

Bucky was equal parts happy and apprehensive at Wanda's newfound touchy-feely relationship with the new girl.

He found out the more intimate part of the bond that the twins shared not that long ago, just how possessive Pietro was of Wanda, that they did things brother and sister shouldn't (unless they live in the swamps of Kentucky) do.

The male Maximoff was as welcoming to the odd teen as his sister, being a little shy around Blue in a truly adorable way.


She seemed to click with Clint and his sense of humor. Both of them were branded to be the worst potty mouths in a get-to-know-you game of questions later in the evening that took place

Blue mostly kept silent, answering any given questions either with a dose of snark or nonchalance that could rival an iceberg's, bursting in bouts of cute giggling at the briefest innuendo, blindly ignoring pointed looks as her and Wanda held hands as they sat next to each other.

- So, are you two like a thing now? - Ah, Tony, always so subtle.

The girls in question shared an amused look. Wanda wore a smug grin as Blue quipped, - Tony, no. Don't even ask, you can't watch, not even a peek.

Tony sputtered hotly as people around him burst in semi-embarrassed bouts of laughter. Steve's blush went all the way down his neck, Captain's bashful expression prolonging everybody's immature mirth for a good moment.

- They're telepathically communicating, - Loki was openly staring at Blue, wearing a curious expression on his sharp, intelligent face, - It appears to me that is the only way to access your conscious, isn't it, little mortal?

The endearing way Loki finished his sentence sent shivers down Blue's spine.

The god was not happy in his repeated failures to "read her mind" as the humans simply called it; it was anything but that. The skill to navigate oneself amongst continuous stream of memories, feelings and senses took equal amounts of luck and patience along with trepidous discipline. Loki had studied the art for longer than the oldest mortal in this place was alive.

Blue frowned. Everybody stared.

The girl in question withdrew from Wanda and crossed her arms under her sizeable bust before piercing the god's green eyes with her dull ones. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees, the teen looked boldly dissatisfied as she attempted to stare the eternal being down, the god looking dangerously amused, regal and suspicious.

- I did not give you explicit permission to invade my personal space, prince Loki, - she spoke in a calm, contented tone, the title sliding off her tongue with a pitch of respect, - I would have given one, have you cared to exercise proper manners. You might be royalty in your world, - another thinly veiled insult, the prince was exiled - and he confirmed it in the rare case he agreed to an interview, - But here on Earth you are a guest.

She stood up and briefly paired a slight touch with an inquisitive glance towards Wanda, who followed suit, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her hoodie.

- It was indeed rude of you, brother, - Thor agreed soberly in spite of Loki's quiet fuming.

Most of the team wore agreeing expressions with the exception of ex-soviet assassins. Natasha cast a thoughtful glance at the girl's back before quietly disappearing, Barnes in tow.

- Smoking is bad for you, - Steve hollered towards the girls.

- Living is bad. It makes you die, - Blue turned around, giving a sarcastic grin before disappearing behind balcony doors.

The two girls' silhouettes stood out on the wide canvas of the darkening sky streaked with whites, yellows and reds, giving Wanda's dark red hair a golden glow around the edges as she pulled out her phone, hugging the other girl to take a selfie.

- Huh, that's true, - Tony nodded several times in agreement, before complaining, - The chick looks like she's sixteen, talks like she's just hit puberty and acts like she's thirty. I'm getting mixed signals here!

The little group of European teens synchronically started snickering amongst themselves, talking animatedly and shaking their heads, some wearing fond, some annoyed expressions. The Avengers cast questioning glances at the kids, chasing to shrug off the uneasy feeling from the small argument.

- It was like this always, she was like this, - a blonde, attractive teen spoke, Russian accent heavy in her speech.

Another teen, a tiny olive-skinned brunette picked up, - I didn't expect Sophia here, out of everyone, - she shook her head, - Doesn't like too many people. Always kept to herself. She's weird.

Even with the less-than-perfect English, the team understood what the teenagers meant.

Blue - Sophia, apparently - must have been used to being the odd one out. Dislike in the brunette's voice wasn't hidden at all and the way the group had been whispering and snickering; Steve was disgusted with the girls bully behaviour and was fully prepared to call them out on their crap.

- You're just envious, - Another teen, named Kate, short purple hair and a sharp, pointy jaw, quipped almost angrily. A flurry of unfamiliar language followed and three girls, including the two bullies, left the room, obviously unhappy and angry. Whatever Kate had said made the bullies' faces turn sour and Loki's change to curious yet again, as opposed to his usual sulk.

The only male guest watched the display idly, turning his head towards the older men: - Don't pay much attention. Sophia is basically a legend amongst foster kids and these three used to be her friends before she ditched them for being toxic and stupid, - he seemed embarrassed for the others' behaviour as he explained.

His name was Casper and he was the youngest in their group of six. He had never met Blue until today but indeed had heard stories about her ranging from daring to outright unbelievable. He found most of them to be true after they shared a brief conversation at breakfast. Blue was calm, open-minded and was prepared call people on their shit, should the need arise.

- He's right, you know, - Kate nodded, looking somewhat sad, - Sophia didn't have a good life before not too long ago. Was in a bad place. Now she's beautiful, rich, - as opposed to others, Kate didn't sound negative. She sounded fond of the other teen's success with Casper mirroring her look of pride for the other girl.

- It's not our place to tell her story. But she doesn't mean anything bad, - the boy added, - She's just... Blue, - he shrugged his shoulders at the end of the sentence, rubbing his nape and smiling crookedly.

- I can understand that, - Tony did. He could see how success brought along potential freeloaders, he could relate to the fondly exasperated way Casper spoke about Blue, sounding very similar to Pepper's attempts to diffuse a sticky situation, courtesy of himself. The engineer briefly entertained the thought of her reckless behaviour being a facade for insecurity however came to a conclusion: the teen sent too many mixed signals. Tony adhered a mental post-it note to spend some time one on one with her - it wouldn't be a chore at all, with her quick wit and dry humor.

Wanda and Blue returned, the latter taking note of the girls that left, immediately relaxed and sprawled on the nearest vacant armchair. Large mass of dark gray leather, dwarfing her petite form, made her appear even smaller. The witch perched herself next to Clint, leaning comfortably on archer's shoulder.

- Oh finally, the basic bitch squad has left the premises, - Blue rejoiced, lowering her chin, conceited. She pulled a smartphone out of her shorts, tapping the screen in a flurry.

- Blue! - Kate groaned.

- Language! - Steve interjected, sighing.

- I speak four, currently English. How might I be of service? - Blue was all wide-eyes and faux innocence.

- It's not polite, - Kate sighed along with the Captain.

- Being a cunt is not polite either, - a blue haired menace huffed in a quick response.

Clint snickered and just like that mood changed from serious back to playful, everyone continued pouring out questions about various topics ranging from favourite foods to usual weather conditions on Asgard.

Thor and Loki eagerly responded and told stories of their home planet, Latvians spoke of their little home country and Maximoffs remembered Sokovia before and during the war, as fondly as they could. The group indulged in a small cultural exchange, marvelling at strange customs of each respective folk.

If someone had noticed two more people gone, they didn't say a single thing.


Upon leaving the common room, Bucky easily let himself slip into Winter Soldier.

He was suspicious and therefore terrified of a spy being placed amongst the very core of his team. The angry reluctance Blue demonstrated upon learning of Loki's intentions seemed defensive to James, and the brief emotion of fear and shame that he noticed on her face was enough for him to voice his doubts to Natasha. Compiling that with the display of careful tailoring of body language and emotions was enough to send both of them on an investigation.

The Black Widow had already noticed Blue's odd acting earlier in the day and wasted no time.

Upon reaching Blue's room, Natasha quickly and professionally went through teen's things, searching for clues and hoping for a sloppily hidden weapon, a stray microchip, any incriminating evidence that could explain her oddity.

James set himself to check her laptop, hacking his way into it had taken longer than he expected due to an advanced security system. It had nothing on Hydra or SHIELD, however, and soon enough he was greeted with a picture of Blue on the beach, along with a stocky bearded man and two toddlers. All of them were grinning, squinting their eyes at the bright sunlight.

- Who is that? - James asked Natasha, knowing she'd pulled up the teen's file on her smartphone while they rode the elevator downstairs.

- Her husband and kids, - the female spy's voice came from the bathroom in a cloud of muted surprise, - She married thirty months ago. Had a kid. Then another. Sued someone and got a payout, started dealing property.

- Clever girl, - he chuckled darkly.

James put all of his formidable skill set to use yet found zero clues of any deceptive actions, the most interesting thing on her computer was a folder full of bondage porn in which she was the main star.

Soft lavender ropes or matching cuffs, Blue had over a hundred professional-looking photos of her in various positions and states of undress, sometimes paired with an oddly familiar-looking girl with long pink hair and tattoo of a skull with prominent fangs on her left thigh.

Bucky shifted in his chair as Natasha's smirking face appeared on the screen in a reflection, - Didn't peg her for a submissive.

Barnes was shocked to see two rows of eight rings piercing her right side with a ribbon carefully threaded through; he averted his eyes from the uncomfortable view and clicked further, not being able to contain his curiosity.

Seven decades of torture and murder at Hydra gave him a strong aversion to needles, his mind, trained to hurt, immediately sent specs on how much blood would she lose upon tearing out a ring.

Tattoo on Blue's left side and ribs featured bones in similar style to her arm with the difference of gears and clockwork designs drawn behind the bones. Did she truly felt like a machine inside or did the tattoo have no meaning but the aesthetic? Bucky wondered.

Both of her hips had a bunny with a gun on a crown background tattooed on them, each of the appendage having "spoiled" and "rotten" written over the respective inking in a tasteful bold cursive.

She had a "Lucky You" tattooed just above her pubic bone, taking a page out of Harley Quinn's book - Bucky snickered to himself at that as he decided to keep the nickname alive.

Some perverse glee filled him upon realising he would be the only one to truly get this joke, as he carefully finished his business and placed Blue's laptop exactly how it stood before. The ex-Winter Soldier scanned the room for any other tech, finding none.

Natasha carefully rummaged through a drawer, mirthfully snickering.

- Huh? - James made a vague inquisitive noise, falling into quiet huffing as Natasha lifted a pair of skimpy Captain America panties, shield printed over the rear, that looked like they barely would cover Blue's shapely bottom.

He was a man with a pair of eyes and a healthy appreciation for the female form. While dating the most perfect man in the universe, sure, Steve had an ass every girl would die for, Bucky was proud to admit he felt secure enough in the relationship to appreciate others without making it seem like Steve wasn't enough. Blue was easy on the eyes with that kind of curves many men would have died for during the war. Besides, Steve had looked too!

Her husband was a lucky son of a bitch, Bucky concluded his musings.

- You gotta get laid, - Natasha muttered, coming up empty-handed. James hummed in agreement.

The ex-Soviets abandoned Blue's room in favour of looking around in the kitchen, Natasha checked out the vents while James did a bug sweep. He found only their own; no one actually listened to private conversations, it was Tony's AI who sorted through them, set to notify the team if something suspicious came up.

- It's a flop, - the male assassin spoke, quiet and stern.

- I'll tell Tony, have him ask Jarvis to keep tabs on her, - Natasha used "ask" in a looser sense.

Stark didn't trust her or Barton to have access to important protocols, reserving veto rights to himself, Steve and Pepper. Tony was still sore after SHIELD/Hydra fiasco, had spent a good chunk of his "sciencing" time and Jarvis' processor power cleaning up a good part of the files that Natasha had dumped on the internet.

He had frantically scraped anything related to him and his team. Media hounds had been ruthless on their hunt, quickly connecting the dots between his parents' death and mission reports in the Winter Soldier's file.

Stark was forced to relive the memories one interview at a time, all the while Romanoff remained unapologetic for her actions, have had exercised trained efficiency for the sake of greater good.

For a spy, she wasn't very astute.


On their way back to common premises Bucky and Natasha met with three disgruntled teenage girls. Passing by, they smiled at each other, Natasha duly noted Blue's name faded from their conversation along with some stronger Russian words from one of the teens.

The assassin redhead agreed with the girls, privately. She didn't like Sophia one bit.

Chapter Text

Dinner was a loud, boisterous affair for the Avengers. A ton of people had to be fed and taking in count four enormous supersoldier-demigod appetites, the group of superheroes mostly resorted to ordering in. Minding the additional six people that recently had joined the Tower, everyone single-mindedly decided pizza was the best option.

Clint held a tablet in one hand and a phone in the other, prepared to collect everyone's orders before calling Tony's favourite pizza joint. It was the most flexible towards delivery times and topping choices.

- Double cheese and pineapple on mine, thick crust, please, - Blue answered the archer's questioning gesture, swaying to the rhythm of a song from his playlist. She had Wanda in front of her, back to chest, and held the witch by her hips, delicate palms curling around the bones hidden by the cotton of her maroon skater dress.

The witch didn't mind dancing so intimately, imitating Blue's movements with alluring grinding of her own, acutely aware of the hungry way Pietro stared at the pair of them. While they didn't hide the nature of their relationship from their teammates anymore, Wanda was not prepared to deal with the judgement and disgust that was bound to follow from the most of her newfound "friends".

If she was truthful to herself, five out of six Latvians raised nothing but mild irritation in the young witch.

Those youngsters didn't have much in the way of intelligence or self-awareness, the inside of their heads held nothing of importance to Wanda. They were so ordinary, the Sokovian struggled to relate to any of them.

She had quickly come to a unsettling conclusion she would never come to have a normal life again, and not for the lack of opportunity or trying. Simple as ABCs, plain living had lost appeal the moment she got her powers under control; Wanda could see through almost anyone, their biggest fears and desires, use them to her own interest with little to no effort.

While getting anything she wanted was fun at first, the lack of challenge got old very fast. It was a void she could never fill, the witch had stopped before she could further damage herself and dive in straightforward depravity. The realization hit her with the force of a freight train, the witch had tried to go without using her powers however it just made her stutter and stumble about everyday life, blind as a mole.

In the end she returned to her previous observers' position, raising herself a shiding here and there without going overboard.


Wanda felt lucky to have had met Blue first. The Latvian had been blasting Nirvana on full volume, obviously enjoying it, and as the band was one of Wanda's favourites, the conversation flew straight away.

Even without poking around in the newcomer's brain the witch knew they had a lot in common. The way Blue held herself and told her stories, the stories themselves - all of it clearly expressed the teen's point of view on her own life.

She was an unapologetic hedonist used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted. The topic of "questionable methods" hung in the air briefly, causing Blue to chuckle: - You can get anything you want with enough effort, and it doesn't have to cause anyone harm. You just gotta, you know, use your imagination and offer all you've got. Maybe sacrifices will have to be made, maybe some people won't like it, I'm sure there's a way out.

Wanda had laughed at that, too, agreement quiet in her mind. She liked Blue's freedom-loving nature, haven't had the pleasure of meeting someone as open-minded as herself, rejoiced in the fact Blue gave everyone a chance and a choice.

Wanda had acted courteous and asked for permission to poke around Blue's brain out of sheer curiosity, confident in getting a positive answer. She got it but not the access; while the witch attempted to access other teen's consciousness each time she ran into a mental brick wall.

- Are you a mutant? - Wanda blurted the first possible reason that came to her mind.

- Uhh, no? - Blue was puzzled, - I guess? What's wrong?

- I keep running into a wall. I can't read your mind, - The Witch explained, studying the other teen suspiciously. - It felt like someone was punching me in the face all the time

Blue's eyebrows rose, - Cool, - she made a face and hastily backtracked, - I mean, aww shit, I'm sorry!

Wanda couldn't hold back her laughter, reacting to teen's awkwardness with a friendly slap on the wrist. She was not prepared for the assault of wonder, fear and relief that flooded her at the brief touch of her friend's skin - and judging by the way Blue's laughter abruptly halted, that odd connection was a two-way line.

None of them knew who reached first, crowding each other's space in a second, holding hands tightly clasped together, foreheads almost touching.

Yet again Wanda was drowning in a sea of foreign feelings and thoughts. She could see blurry images of long forgotten past, emotions that had been lived out and abandoned in favour of newer, happier, stronger recollections. Wanda closed her eyes and concentrated on the essence that was Blue's mind: possibly the most beautiful thing she'd seen in a long time, in a chaotic way, marvelling at the controlled disorder in front of her.

She have had learned most people associated emotions with sounds or colours, preferred to focus on a single task until finish before moving onto something else.

Blue's mind didn't function like that. Snippets of thoughts and half-hearted feelings floated like meteors in space, moved at random speeds here and there as if she'd tried to do, see, feel six things at once; Wanda remembered a single time she had tried to read a schizophrenic's mind and observed a sublime similarity, difference being in a lack of dissociation that all of the mentally ill had to some degree.

However, the blue haired teen was the single ruler of her own mind and the carefully collected chaos was all her.

Wanda opened her eyes and remembered the connection went both ways, preparing herself for defense. Her worry vanished upon seeing Blue smiling at her, encouraging and real, looking up shy yet full of determination.

- You're fucked up, and that's okay, 'cause so am I, - whatever Wanda had expected, it wasn't the stark display of self-awareness Blue projected. The witch realised she had seen only a small fraction of the other's persona, captivated and reassured, she sent a muted request, the consuming ache to know more.

- I'll show you mine if you show me yours, - the blue-haired teen answered, giggling and wiggling her eyebrows.

The redhead witch rolled her eyes humorously, laying down on the couch in Blue's living room, pulling the teen in a cuddle with their hands clasped.


A journey in someone's mind was by far one of the most bewildering experiences Blue had ever enjoyed. She had been clumsy in her probing of Wanda's mind until the witch herself took care to steer her in the right direction, helped to pick through continuous stream of information that overwhelmed Blue with its intensity, the feeling unlike the witch herself had the first few times she tried to get inside someone's head shortly after gaining powers. Blue was, thankfully, a quick learner and didn't want to waste precious time that could be spent on conceiving first hand emprise of visiting someone else's mind.

Have had spent countless hours on getting to know each other in the most intimate sense, Wanda dragged Pietro to join their little club of telepathic buddies.

Speedster, reluctant at first, had warmed up to the idea of shared conscious following a brief demonstration. He had requested to keep his memories covered both girls respecting the wish with no argument. Pietro developed a deep respect for Blue, seen for himself all hardships she had successfully overcome in her time, trusted her completely, have had witnessed other teen's softer, easy going side.

Blue indulgently smiled and wrapped both Maximoffs in a hug, feeling Pietro's attempt at concealing envy at the teen's family. The boy truly thought she was a good mother and a caring wife; the mental images arose with a deep sadness in his soul.

The aching wound, the loss of his parents haunted him after all the years. He'd gotten no closure, running himself ragged caring for Wanda and trying to stay afloat, not drown in sorrow.

- I'm not going to take place of your parents, - Blue said softly, seeing the boy's endless turmoil. - But if you need me, I'll be there.

She knew the loneliness like the back of her hand, soul hurting along with both of the siblings for the sudden loss of something so dear with no way of getting it back. Now that she herself was more or less whole, she felt an obligation to share the "glue" with others, ever-present compassion usually hidden under layers of iron willpower and snark. Blue have had understood years ago how one could exhaust herself helping others, failing to take care of own well-being, so she promised herself to give others solace in doing small things, taking baby steps.

Her main goal in helping others always had been cluing to find acceptance, the only thing that provided true peace. Denial was no way to live, she'd learned the lesson in hard mode.

It was most difficult, time-consuming task that gave the biggest reward. Acceptance came from small gestures, coincidentally adhering to Blue's method of choice and the blessing of determination she was lucky to have.

It will be a summer well spent, she decided. Mentally stimulating with a side of "lazing around in a pool" topped with a dash "being surrounded by gorgeous human beings".


- Blasphemy! - Tony cried. - Pineapple on pizza, how dare you!

Blue, Clint and Steve synchonically rolled their eyes at the resident genius' unjust outrage. Stark sure enjoyed to stir up unnecessary drama.

- Alrighty then, I won't share, - the blue-haired teen shrugged, petulant.

- Hey, it's my pizza since I'm paying for it! I won't share! - Tony matched Blue's childish tone.

The teen rolled her eyes yet again, reaching her hand inside her shirt. Rummaging for a moment, she pulled out a roll of dollar bills that she tossed at Tony, hitting him square in the chest. The genius stared, offended.

- There, I paid for it, you big drama queen, - annoyance and amusement mixed in her tone until she noticed his face: - It's like you just enjoy squabbling for no viable reason. Soon I'll have to resort to using my brain to cut your shit out. - Staying true to her style of communication, Blue immediately explained her actions with a healthy dose of insulting sarcasm, have had taken notice of Tony's change in demeanour. She quietly berated herself for not entertaining the option of wealth being a sensitive topic for Stark.

- Oh the humblebrag! - Pietro twirled the roll of money in between his fingers. - You're rich too, we get it, - the blonde youngster could be sarcastic when he wanted to, usually reserving it to situations he was sick of. He hated arguments.

Blue flipped the bird in response.

- Rude! - Tony grumbled half-heartedly, secretly liking the way the teen talked back. It was a good while since anyone could keep up with his personality.

Blue must have wanted to argue some more but Kate, who stood next to Pietro, simply clamped a hand over her mouth, disentangling the teen from Wanda and pressing her against own body. Muffled sounds of distress came from Blue as she struggled against her captor.

- Ew, really? - Kate shook her head. Blue licked her palm, smug grin hidden. - I've had your tongue in far more interesting places, don't even start! - Kate's cheeks grew a faint blush upon remembering where she was and what company she was in; Blue just looked even more smug. Kate retracted her wet hand and wiped it on her pants, facepalming with the other.

- This is getting more exciting by the second, - Tony gleefully rubbed his hands together.

Everyone in their little group side-eyed him, moving on to the common room when Jarvis announced the arrival of pizza. Tony kept throwing knowing looks at the blue-haired teen that sat on the couch flanked by Wanda and Kate on both sides, all four of them remaining tight-lipped to teammates' wondering glances.

- I'm not sure I want to know what's going on, - Bruce had muttered, taking note of the engrineer's glances in the three girl's direction.

Blue noticed that, if not heard, and took note to give him a real, reassuring smile to try and soothe whatever was bothering him. She wasn't mean, just blessed with a brash sense of humor. She hoped he understood.

Bruce gave a small, shy tilt of his lips in return.

"He's always so cute and soft," Wanda sent a telepathic message, briefly running her fingers along Blue's thigh, to which the teen hummed in agreement.


Two weeks flew by, summer approaching rapidly. Start of June was sunny and hot, New York's polluted air enhancing the dry heat that plagued most days. Dust and exhaust filled the busy streets along with the stench of sewage, sweat and burnt paint. Despite the unpleasant atmosphere, the city scurried on, it's people's irritability amped up by hundred percent causing drivers to honk in bouts of road rage and pedestrians to curse in return. Iced coffees in their hands, people tried to move quickly from one place to another, sweating in their tank tops and shorts, relying on air conditioning to keep them at optimal temperature.

Blue was no different from the natives of New York. She travelled swiftly, sipping on coloured slurpees in between destinations. The girl had abandoned the idea of going window shopping when the first heatwave hit, chose to plan all her outings to be clear-cut and adamant in their context, minimising the need to wander, trying to make her leave in the early morning hours, returning in the late evening.

Whenever she left, be it for a dance class, volunteer work at a women's shelter or for a coffee with some friends she made outside the Tower, Blue tended to disappear for a whole day. She was used to dry heat, her homeland had similar weather conditions, but that didn't mean she liked it. Avoiding it with a passion was the only way, well, short of carrying a battery-operated fan everywhere.

Tony could make one, but even I am not that weird, she thought. A half-finished red-white-blue slurpee in hand, she exited the elevator on her floor, tossed her backpack on the nearest raised surface and flopped in the chair closest to her, eyes closed.

The heat had been horrid that day and Blue regretted leaving the tower as soon as she took her first step on the crowded sidewalk. Thankfully her business had her to stay in one place the whole time, she hoped the sun would quit trying to fry humanity in the evening, yet experienced no such luck. By the time she made the thirty-minute walk home, sweat poured down her body like the Niagara falls, her cleavage bearing uncomfortable similarity to a swamp.

- Hey, Steve, - she greeted the Captain as soon as she landed on the cushions. He looked like he had been waiting on her for a moment, arms folded under his head, long legs splayed comfortably where he sat on the couch. A quick glance at the clock told Blue it was a quarter past eleven, making her wonder what was keeping Steve up.

- Had a good day, I hope? - He stretched while Blue fought not to stare. She won the battle by directing her attention at her drink, sipping, the crushed ice making a loud smacking sound as it travelled up the thick red straw.

She raised her eyes to meet his, saw him notice the tiny Captain America shield on the side of her plastic cup, he gave a tight-lipped smile.

- You a fan of Captain America? - He bulked himself, muscles standing out even more but all that Blue truly noticed was the detached way he spoke of it, as it would be someone else that they were talking about.

Thank god I'm not famous, she thought, instead saying out loud: - Sorta hate him, actually, - it was an honest answer. She'd never been the good girl that blindly obeyed the rules and followed protocols, True American Way had stood to her as fake play-pretend where everyone hid their figurative scars behind a thick layer of make-up. Patriotic superhero had no moral appeal to the teen. - I don't think anyone actually sees the world so black and white. It's more of grayscale...

Relief and curiosity flashed across Steve's face and Blue took that as an invitation to add: - Don't get me wrong, I've heard he's a great fighter and leader on the battlefield, oh, and a tactician, - She recalled the main attributes the superhero was advertised for. - Great ass too, - The teen tried the make-Steve-blush method to lighten the mood and succeeded. Captain's cheekbones took on a faint rosy glow, his lips stretching in a shy smile.

- Uh, thank you, - Steve rubbed the back of his neck, pausing their conversation awkwardly.

- What does Steve Rogers think? - Blue visibly startled him. He was uncomfortable with given question, that much was obvious, so before he did go and stick his foot in his mouth or worse, give her some rehearsed propaganda bullshit, she interjected his internal battles: - Now, don't give me that pure as a dick made of fresh fallen snow shit, you served in the army on the front lines for a year and won a fucking war with the method of suicide. If that doesn't harden a personality, - Blue snickered and saw Steve's mouth twitch, too, - I don't know what does. Oh wait, maybe lifelong dangerous chronic illness? - The teen faked nonchalance as much as she could in her agitated state.

She felt angry for the Captain. Not one single human being - well, except maybe Barnes, - gave a fuck about what Steve Rogers thought. It was as if the world had erased his own personality and robbed him the right of choice when he became Captain America, choosing to replace him with a made-up persona that was easily bent to one's general views: black or white, right or wrong, all made to satisfy someone else's self-righteous desires.

When the government made Captain America, it made him for the freedom of people, at the price of becoming a puppet himself.

Steve sat on the couch looking embarrassed and sheepish, head hung, staring straight ahead. Painfully, Blue realised she had gone over the top with her rant, overwhelmed him: however he understood her words, it was in a negative light and he was blaming himself.

Blue cursed out her own short fuse, mentally kicking herself in the butt.

- Listen, I'm not good at... this, - the teen ran her hands through her blue hair, making a bigger mess out of already tangled mass of half-loosened braids. In a bout of compassionate determination, she shuffled forward to kneel in front of Steve, taking his large, limp hands in her small clammy ones. The blonde man eyed the way she curled her palms around his. Lifting his eyes, he didn't meet hers, she was looking to her side instead.

- I'm not good at talking feelings, - Blue continued taking a deep breath beforehand, - Whatever I said, it wasn't meant to be accusing, I'm angry at everyone else and not you. How I see this, is that they robbed you of so much, it hurts to see, - she fumbled, trying to find the right words, failing and trying again, - You don't hafta live in a fight zone all the time, right here in this room you're just Steve and not Cap, - the teen tried, accent strong in her speech full of raw emotion.

He simply kept his focus on their clasped hands, quiet wonder making his face look young and boyish, little frown lines disappearing with no trace.

- Look, I'm nineteen, not stupid, - the not a child was obvious in her voice. - And I think you could use a friend.

She disentangled her hands from his, took a breath and directed her glistening green-brown stare squarely in his face: - Steve, do you want to be friends? - It came out credulous, choked and heavily accented yet the lightening of his face answered all the questions.

Blue was promptly embraced in a strong hug and lifted off the floor. Giggling softly, the teen wound up her arms around Steve's neck as he stood up and, following a brief moment of hesitation, her legs around his waist, locking ankles above his tailbone.

They stood like that for a comfortable while until Blue felt her bare thighs and arms start to stick to his shirt.

- Ew, I'm gross, - She wiggled a little.

- Sorry I... I forgot that smaller people usually dislike being manhandled like that, - Steve smiled apologetic, speaking from his own experience as her put the teen back on her feet.

- Did Bucky do it back in Brooklyn? - Blue tried to phrase the question nonchalantly, mindful of captain's seemingly fragile mental state. The girl received a fondly annoyed nod from him and added: - I personally like it, - she shrugged her shoulders, - Must be a girl thing.

The pair spent a few moments in friendly, comfortable silence, each of them deep in thought until Steve's phone beeped once, signifying an incoming text message.

- Probably Bucky the mother hen, wondering if I got lost on my way to our bedroom, - Steve sported the same look he had before, dry humor playing in his voice.

- Watcha wanted from me anyways? - Blue inquired. - It's not like we spoke much until today.

Steve rubbed his face. - Bucky noticed you disappear often for a whole day, and I was going to ask you what's happening, why are you avoiding us? - He replied, voice taking a on worried note.

The teen could see how her behaviour could point at that. - I'm not rad about large groups of people, - She admitted. - I like being able to hear my own thoughts. I know, I look like this super-crazy party girl that has done anything and anyone and I act super extroverted, but it's not true, - Blue watched his face fall slightly. - I used to be like that but I'm calm as tits now. I've got stuff that I do, I've got my dance classes and my work. I help out at a shelter for battered women, - He was surprised. She smiled and went on: - I know most of stuff that the girls have been through so I spend some extra time with them. Make them feel human again.

Steve immediately lost all trace of newfound happiness, quiet anger seeping into his voice. - You're married, right? - Upon receiving a confirming nod he demanded: - He doesn't... hit you, does he?

- Nah, my boo is calm as a fucking lizard under the sun, - Blue quickly dismissed his worry with a smile. - You guys keep forgetting where the lot of us are from. Our country is a tiny shithole no one knows about. We're small, poor and angry. - She didn't sound bitter at all. Her tone was flat and bore no argument to it, simply establishing a fact, as she continued: - Looking at me now, it's hard to tell I come from a place like that. I know. I'm used to people acting all kinds of weird towards me, so I don't really notice it anymore, - she pouted, - I am a successful self-made businesswoman, a mother of two intelligent, exceptional kids and a wife to the most understanding man in the whole god-damned universe, - she mockingly bragged, making Steve laugh, - but to get here, I've lost most of my mind and my time. I grew up amongst people who were mentally very unwell. I've seen some, done some.

Blue finished on a serious note, a litte furrow appearing between her eyebrows. She had half a mind to tell Steve more, hell, she wanted to tell him more, but her personal pride put a lid on that real fast. No one needed to hear another angsty story, so she cut herself off, hung her unsaid words in the air and hoped Steve understood.

He pulled her in a hug, chuckling sort of darkly: - That makes two of us. Now go take that shower, you feel like you're overheating!

She did indeed feel a few degrees too warm, a bit dizzy and thirsty. A cool shower would be perfect. Steve softly turned her in the direction of her bedroom by the shoulders, encouragingly pushing her to hurry up and cool off.

- Yes, daddy! - Back to her usual snarky persona, she didn't resist the urge to tease. Disappearing behind her bedroom door, she turned to wave goodbye to the Captain, fully expecting him to be beet red and sputtering at the dirty joke, however he was barely blushing at all, wearing his serious face, jawline hard, poweful arms crossed under prominent pecs.

As if just the expression itself wasn't enough to successfully ruin her underwear, Steve added in a rough voice: - Run along, Babydoll. Be a good girl.


The door left her grip and slammed shut. Through her surprised stupor she heard Steve's howling laughter as he departed for his floor.

Blue slid down on the floor with her back to the door. Unknowingly, Steve had hit all her hotspots in one blind yet precise shot. Additionally, the combo of guilt-less open relationship she had going on in her marital life and the constant near-proximity she had inadvertently promised Steve today, well, she knew she's going to need plenty of new underwear.

The flabbergasted teen had a strong suspicion was just the beginning.

After a short, restless soak in a lukewarm bath and a nightly routine consisting of a daily 9gag visit for some dank memes over a cup of cocoa, she angrily decided to call Steve on his shit.

[01:19]Blu: Fuck you, Steeben.
[01:21]Cap: Be nice and go to sleep, it's late! Good night!
[01:22]Blu: *fuck

Satisfied with herself, Blue fell into a deep, peaceful sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.


[05:38] Cap: What the fuck did the stupid punk do?
[05:38] Cap: It's Bucky.
[05:41] Blu: duck you I'm sleeps

Chapter Text

[08:31]Wanda: We need to talk
[08:32]Wanda: Pabusti!!!*
[08:35]Blu: can i take a shit in peace, jesus
[08:36]Wanda: You did a fucking number on Cap yesterday.
[08:38]Blu: whatever happened??, it wasn't me
[08:40]Wanda: Sure you did, triušis** ;) poor Bucky. Steve must have "exercised all his frustrations" on him from your little chat yesterday.
[08:40]Wanda: he can't sit still. tbh im concerned his ass is flayed or something
[08:42]Blu: ugh why. I oughta take MY frustrations out on YOU >:(
[08:43]Wanda: if you put that pink outfit on, ill let you
[08:44]Blu: es zinu uz ko tu tēmē***!! done. eta 10min

Wanda sat in the kitchen amongst fellow Avengers, idly chewing on a banana while she waited for Blue to show up. The witch broke into girly fits of giggles when the older teen answered her texts, prompting suspicious looks from Tony and Steve eating opposite her.

Both men could be so overprotective at times, Wanda had to literally apply combat tactics to evade their questioning. She had attempted to go out on a date, once, with one of the interns from SI's tech division - it had been a disaster from the first minute. Steve and Bucky followed the pair to the diner where they not-so-subtly eavesdropped on Wanda's date all the while texting Tony every bit of the intel they gathered on her companion for the genius to run background checks on.

Wanda had paused her date's speech in favour of "powdering her nose", however she'd sauntered right outside, knowing both supersoldiers would immediately follow her. She proceeded to berate them to satisfy their voyeuristic cravings elsewhere, since her date most definitely would have performance issues with two "old fogies" watching from his bedroom window.

Bucky at least had the decency to blush. Steve, however, raged at Wanda's promiscuous behaviour. Tony had appeared seemingly out of nowhere throwing a tantrum of his own, directed at Steve: the genius was having none of that 1940's misogynistic attitude, defending women's rights to sleep with whomever they wanted with.

- We worry because we care, ведьмочка, - Bucky called her little witch in Russian only when knew he'd messed up. Wanda didn't need her powers to figure out they meant only well, but at the same time she wished they would stop treating her like a child.

The Captain surely had thought so. He had lashed out not for the reason he thought casual sex wrong. He had been attracted to her right from the start, when they fought Ultron together, yet abandoned the feelings in favour of guilt: Steve thought himself a dirty old man for liking Wanda more than a friend, feeling in conflict with himself, he had ventured down a dangerous path, had decided no one will "get" her if he didn't.

The witch had seen, in his mind, how truly troubled the blonde man was from the illness and continuous rejections in his early years, how defensive he became if someone pointed out his mistakes, how much in denial he was with himself. Wanda didn't delve too deep into his issues for fear of getting lost in the sea of self-depreciation the Captain was drowning in, however filed his desire for a young pretty girl for later.

She hadn't been sure he would ever succumb to himself, but Bucky definitely might indulge one day. Wanda figured, if the chance would present itself, she'd help the two supersoldiers woo an adventurous nineteen or twenty-year-old.

Sitting in the kitchen, awaiting for Blue to appear, the witch couldn't believe her luck. Unknowingly, the other female turned out to be a God's gift for their team and a handy tool for Wanda's incessant meddling.

Taking a sneak peek in present teammates' minds, the witch rejoiced at Steve's and Clint's acceptance yet felt confused, feeling wary vibes coming from Bucky, taking a mental note to talk with the ex-assassin. His own investigation could make things difficult, significantly delay Wanda's desired outcome.

Humming to herself, the witch gleefully flipped a tiny switch in the good Captain's mind. A tiny mental push wouldn't make him do anything he didn't want to yet granted the extra proverbial balls to act out and pursue Blue, his boyfriend in tow. Wouldn't that be a sight for sore eyes...

- Sup? - Blue walked in with a light spring in her step immediately setting her wicked stare on Wanda.

The witch stared right back, in a feeble attempt to hold back laughter at everyone's confused expressions: Blue was dressed in the "pink outfit" as she'd promised, Wanda's plan unfolding itself with a vigorous resolve. Hell, it might even drag along some pleasant additional results for dessert to herself dearest.

Wanda gave the girl a blatant once-over: Blue was wearing a lavender pleated skirt that swooshed about three inches below her bottom, leaving a fingerbreadth of bare pale flesh between the garment and pink-and-white striped thigh-highs, matching star-adorned pink creepers on her feet. Another two inches of skin showed from under her pink choker-neck crop top, a maroon choker hanging atop it. Pearly bunny ears peeked from Blue's hair that she wore loose.

Had this all been for Wanda? She sure could appreciate the effort, craving to tongue and bite at the exposed porcelain of the girl's skin, could picture little bruises she would leave in... Plain view, just to see the envy in people's stares, and stare they would. If the witch hadn't known Blue's unrestrainable nature, she would keep her all to herself.

- I think you get off on... whatever you're doing right now, - Clint sighed. Fond annoyance mixed with protectiveness sloshed idly in his vocalization. So he had noticed Blue's attention-stealing nature.

The female in question, of course, answered with a roll of her eyes: her to-go reaction in cases of people calling her, essentially, an attention whore. She had confided, it happened frequently however wasn't the actual desired outcome.

- Nobody takes me seriously anyway, figured I'd look the part, - Her tone was cynical, yet Wanda could feel built up resentment cleverly hidden behind it. Blue could fake careless happiness like no other, exercising fears and insecurities in the oddest ways.

- Daddy issues much? - Tony snarked.

- Me and my daddy got no issues, - Blue winked at Tony.

Steve blushed something fierce and Bucky elbowed his boyfriend, his grin indicating an incoming taunt.

- Awe, Steeben, don't get all blushy on me now, I liked your yesterday's attitude much better, - Blue's faux-innocent tone and doe eyes didn't fail her as the Captain's embarrassment added a few more bright shades to his face.

Tony did a double take: - Wait-wait-what happened yesterday?

- Stevie and doll made friends, - Barnes chimed in with a teasing look, wiggling his eyebrows. - You oughtta be good boyfriend and share! - He directed at Steve, leering.

Wanda had all but abandoned her breakfast in favour of having the front seat for the comedy that was Tony, Blue and now Steve. Everything was going better than she expected. Bucky had moved aside his caution by a dollop letting way to his naturally flirty attitude towards women, indirectly clearing Steve's way for pursuing Blue.

There was one more thing to clarify before her plan could reach the finish of stage one: the matter of Blue's husband.

- You facetimed Claus yet? I wanna say hi to his pretty face and see that bro-friend of his. - Wanda abruptly changed the topic, effectively postponing any further flirting before someone got ahead of themselves, genuinely interested what Blue's other half was doing across the world with his current boyfriend, excuse me, bro-friend.

Claus was using the time apart to explore his sexuality, have had been a closeted bisexual until recently - his family was pretty old-school in terms of masculinity, up until dating Blue he unhappily lived attempting to be the alpha male. With her help, he was on his way to gaining acceptance with himself.

Blue frowned, shot Wanda a curious look yet nodded: - Yes, but we can call him again at about two o'clock, - Wanda noted Blue calculating the time difference in her head, - His brofriend is pretty cool. Nerdy, skinny, the whole deal. Huge grey eyes. Cute as a button.

Wanda nodded, satisfied for the time being. Noticed the wonder of her teammates, she clarified: - This lucky woman is helping her other half out of the closet. - When the eyebrows of her friends rose even higher, she continued further: - He's got a... not very understanding mother.

- We're both bi and open-polygamous, formerly a triad with lovely Kate over there, - Blue was stirring her coffee longer than necessary, tips of her fingers white from gripping the tip of the spoon with the force of anxiety.

Kate paused her chat with Loki, adding: - Those two are so damn in love, ew. Too much fluff for me.

- How does that work for you? - Tony asked Blue seriously, subtly referencing his break-up with Pepper. One of the reasons they parted ways had been desires for different relationship dynamics, Tony was as progressive as it gets but Pepper was more traditional. The engineer wasn't the cheating type and had honestly tried, resulting in feelings of being suffocated and trapped. Tony sighed.

The blue-haired teen released hold of her coffee in favour of putting it on the countertop, leaning back and taking a long look at the white-silver ceiling tiles: - You ever meet someone in your life that made you just stop and... I don't even have the right words, - she scratched her chin, - Like, we just get each other. We've no qualms about being with other people because we trust each other completely. At the end of the day, no matter what, we come to each other for comfort.

Blue smiled sadly, compassion radiating her features upon dropping her gaze on Kate. - I know I can get a little intense at times, - the way she said it, worrisome, her brow furrowed.

- Yeah, you're intense alright, - Kate made a watery chuckle, pointing a finger at the other teen. - These two gave me a home with a family when I needed it, pulled my head outta my own ass and my ass outta some deep shit. Blue just acts like a sugar high kid, but she's really really not.

Kate rose up from her chair, clumsy, making way to her friend and giving a tight hug, laying her head upon the shorter teen's shoulder. Her back must have been bent awkwardly, being four inches taller than Blue yet she forgone physical comfort for emotional, burying her face in the crook of Blue's neck, basking in the feeling of arms wrapped snugly around her midriff, abundant warmth of an embrace.

- Not one person on this world can chain you down and I know that, - Kate's voice came muffled, before she lifted her head to look at Tony, - And Claus knows that too. It's a matter of acceptance and compromise. I know them both since Blue was sixteen. He put up with her shit back then, if that's not love then I have no idea what it is.

Blue pinched Kate, quietly signalling to cease her storytelling before the unsightly part, hoped that people wouldn't probe for more. She wasn't ashamed, have had taken her mishaps as valuable learning experience, felt no need for past to rear it's ugly head. Misunderstandings would most likely ensue, most of people on the team were so far detached from the world she lived in, it would take a long time of explaining. Blue didn't feel like pouring her soul out to an audience.

- Yeah, I couldn't put up with myself back then. Embarrassing! Kudos to my soulmate, - the teen laughed.

- You fucking hippies, - Kate grumbled in regards to Brachman's libertine conduct, giving a friendly push, detaching herself from Blue, returning back to her drink. Everyone else in the room chuckled at the friendly banter.

- Right back at'cha, Katie, - Blue made a "pew" gesture.

- Does that mean what I think it means? - Tony gave the teen an overt once-over to his friends' exasperated groaning. The Avengers seemed to do that a lot with him.

Blue, however, simply laughed: - You a player? - Upon receiving a cocky grin indicating agreement, she made way to Tony. Getting up in his private space bubble with a wicked look, - Nice to meet ya, I'm the coach!

Blue shot him another one of her faux-innocent smiles that had become the trademark sign of walking a fine line between teasing and sobriety, making Tony squirm under intense gaze of her ochre eyes.

Loki gave an amused chuckle, making everyone laugh up a storm as the teen yet again one-upped the resident smartass. He threw his hands up in the air, dramatically.

- You got told, man, - Clint approached, chuckling, throwing a friendly arm around Blue's shoulders, steering her back to Wanda.

The witch swore she'd seen Rogers' eyes become red flaming hearts. Bingo!


Blue and Wanda spent the day together with Kate, lazily surfing the internet, reciting each other funny posts and browsing clothing articles at Tony's insistence. He gave the teens his black Amex, which had essentially unlimited credit, and sternly instructed to get crazy, retreating to his lab shortly after. At some point after lunch they were joined by Bucky and Steve sitting down next to Blue, Clint dropping out of the nearest vent shortly afterwards.

Hawkeye made corny jokes, laughed the loudest during Kate and Blue's funny stories they recited from Reddit and 4chan.

He then laughed some more at supersoldiers confusion during some of them which resulted in a tantrum from Blue, who took her time to patiently answer Bucky and Steve's questions and berated Barton for "dropping a kid in a pond and expect it to know how to swim". She stayed true to her words, phrasing clarifications in a laid-back way, hoping she wasn't making Steve feel stupid.

By the time evening rolled in, the group made a puppy pile sprawled on the common room couch. Wanda was sitting atop Clint, Kate next to him, pillowing her head on archer's shoulder, all three watching his favourite kitten videos. Bucky held Blue's tablet, his sides squished between the purple-haired girl and Steve, who had Blue on his lap, snoring quietly onto his collarbones. She'd nodded off while the supersoldiers made their way through list of movies she had recommended, reading summaries.

- She's like a cat, - Bucky felt an increasing attraction to Blue, and knew Steve felt the same.

His uncertainty had moved to the back of his mind for the time being, the reasons behind it barely had standing ground. She'd treated Steve with compassion and understanding, showing insight beyond his Captain America persona, taking care to actually unwrap the gift that was Steve Rogers from underneath the star-spangled adornments.

Wanda looked over to them, knowing grin adorning her face, and poked Blue with her foot: - Quit sleeping!

A tuft of blue hair moved erratically, it's owner yawning and attempting to sit up but unable to do so due to a pair of strong, thick arms wrapped around her. The girl flailed ungracefully, still not fully awake.

Steve held her, avoiding the collision of his nose and Blue's delicate palms, putting his supersoldier reaction time to business. The girl had nails, damn it!

- Huhwhat? - True to Buck's words, she was like a cat. Cuddly but pissed off if suddenly disturbed. - The fuck do you need? I was sleeping, you hoe! - Blue managed to shimmy down and kicked Wanda in the calf, using Steve's arms for leverage. He attempted to stop her assault but she trashed, albeit quite lazily, against him.

- Shut the fuck up, you and your beefcakes are giving everyone diabetes with your PDA! - Wanda shot back, unimpressed. She needed to see their reaction.

- Jealous, doll? - Bucky shot her a grin that used to make ladies swoon back in the 1940s. - There's plenty of me to go around, - Wolfish grin in place, he opened his arms pointing to his lap.

- No, mine! - Clint squawked, holding onto blushing Wanda, who was quite satisfied with the turn of events.

- Fuck y'all! - Kate summarized, shaking her head. She was just about done with the sexual tension between Steve and Blue, Clint and Wanda.

- I mean, if you really want to? - Blue snarked right back, sounding completely serious, paying no attention to the way Rogers and Barnes quietly choked on air. She had abandoned kicking Wanda in favour of sprawling between Steve's open legs, head pillowed on his cotton-covered abs, tapping on her phone, the very image of indifference.

- It's a date! - Kate laughed.

- What about me? What about our morning conversation? - Wanda was curious. And inexperienced. She craved the guidance of an experienced lover, which both girls were. Her teammates wore amused, bashful faces, thought it was just a joke - the witch knew better, those two had no shame when it came to each other and both were attracted to her, too.

She might have started to like the shock factor Blue thrived on. Men's faces were fucking hilarious.

- It's a party! - Kate chirped, shifting. Everyone pretended not to notice the way Bucky's arm kept whirring, the man himself wearing a rare mixture of coy surprise.

Wanda smiled triumphantly, lifting her eyes to Blue and blushing crimson momentarily, plotting thoughts leaving her head to stunned emptiness.

Blue was looking at her, gaze magnetic, inviting. Glinting eyes, not uncanny green alike Loki's, duller, filled with amber hues of afternoon sunshine. Cocked left eyebrow, lowered chin, biting her flushed smirking lips as if thoughtfully, being anything but. Blue knew what she did to Wanda yet wasn't smug in the slightest, letting her energy envelop the witch, sprouting feverish anticipation, making heat pool low in her belly and thoughts knot on themselves in a flustered mess.

Wanda had sympathy for the Devil for she knew when those two would meet, the world will burn and enjoy the fire.


- If you won't, I will, - Clint quietly, quickly notified Bucky and Steve of his intentions to pursue the teen when the group left for kitchen.

He was a good deal older than Blue, and, technically, both supersoldiers too. Spent his youth in the traveling circus, the archer had seen many odd folks.

In his early twenties he met a wicked woman with piercing spears for eyes alike Blue's - she was thirty-five, traveled alone and was Romani. She was a typical fortune teller, used simple props and cheap tricks to make her share - ladies like that came and went in the circus, not many people were convinced or amused by them anymore - but she stayed for a long time and never had sparse clientele.

Clint remembered the way she would park herself on a small, ancient wooden stool behind an equally frail table and endlessly shuffle her tarot deck, carefully scanning the crowd for her prey. Once she noticed a person, usually well-dressed men or couples, no kids, she would stare at them intensely until they turned and met their wandering eyes with her inviting brown ones.

The way her mouth upturned, mimicking a mysterious smile would lure the people every.single.time. A brief conversation, more staring and smirking, always followed by dollar bills traveling into her palms.

Clint had carefully watched her charm her wicked way through person after person, a few circus pals included. She always got what she needed, be it money, company, sex or booze.

He had heard from other guys her bedroom skills were a something, her promising gaze held no lie. A witch with no magic, they had dubbed her.

Back then, Clint was a twenty-two year old boy, cocky and sure of himself, he knew no finesse, didn't understand importance of "the hunt", desired no foreplay. In short words, he held no interest to the fortune teller and his quiet lust was unshared.

He had suspected Blue of a similar ability to charm people into doing things for her. She was confident, too confident for a youngster, her core always calm. She succeeded at life. According to Kate, Blue was intense. Caring, easygoing, yet her attitude got heavy at times, demanding.

She had made Wanda squirm with nearly no effort and the witch had been in her head!

Clint Barton had a chance and he would be darned if he didn't use it. Unfortunately, Blue seemed to favour Steve - the shy, quiet type in general, according to her husband's file - Clint was a honest man and gave them the first shot at trying.

All could turn out well and they could share, even. The archer had his hands full enough with Wanda, for now.

He could wait.


- If you're hungry, you better help chopping the veggies! - Wanda called from the kitchen, poking her head out the opened door, surveying the atmosphere in the living room.

Clint was talking to a flushed pair of supersoldiers, all three men evidently conspiring, their heads leaned close.

- In a moment, baby, - He replied.

Wanda disappeared back into the room where both girls were busy cutting and peeling the ingredients for tonight's potato and beef stew, one of Wanda's favourite meals of her home country. She felt happy.

- I think you broke our boys, - The witch couldn't hold back a girly giggle towards Blue.

- Oops, - She shrugged, no remorse whatsoever, unimpressed, - I still wanna kiss you though, don't care if that gives grandpas an aneurysm.

Blue abandoned her sack of potatoes and peeling knife, swiftly moving to stand in front of Wanda. She herded the witch to the nearest counter holding onto the taller girl's waist, half-lifting her onto it, splaying own short, small fingers, rubbing her thumbs against the jersey of Wanda's dress in soothing circles and allowing the less experienced girl to make the first move.

The witch was only half-aware of Kate's loud intake of breath in the background as she leaned in, feeling Blue's warm breath fan over her lips as she brushed them against Blue's pout, capturing her lower lip and sucking on it gently. The teen reprocitated by moving her own lips in a light caress, opening her mouth.

Blue tasted like lipstick, peppermint and carrots. Wanda found herself leaning in, put her hands around the other girl's neck loosely playing with a strand of her long, thick hair, twirling it around her finger, tongue peeking out, inquisitively sliding along her lower lip.

The space between them shrunk and filled with static as the witch grew bold. Their tongues entwined, danced fluidly as each girl fiercely fought to dominate the kiss. Both of them had fire inside, enough to burn a city to ashes and it translated into fast nips, sharp inhales and small growls, each noise spurring the other on to go harder, sharper.

Pressed chest to chest, Wanda's legs around Blue's waist, eyes closed - both girls blissfully got lost in each other, not bothering in the slightest to savour the searing heat, it being merely but an appetizer for what's to come. Their fight not a competition but a friendly spar on even terms with no intent to win.

Wanda felt the added tang of metal on her tongue yet no sting, however Blue seemed to be untroubled, a barely-there moan escaping her throat. The witch bit down on her partner's lower lip, withdrawing, and was satisfied to hear another sound, similar in nature.

With a heavy heart and molten lava filling her abdomen, Wanda leaned back to inspect her handiwork and catch a very gulp of oxygen.

Blue was breathing heavily, the rise of her chest accentuated by her large bosom. Long hair was tousled and tangled, lips glistening. Green eyes were sparkling, as mischievous as they were happy. Barely a flush, though - maybe the teen simply wasn't a blusher. Wanda had never seen her cheeks have more than a faint glow, despite pale skin tone. She had a habit of biting her lip, however, and that she did, yellowish stare clear and unblinking.

Throats cleared behind them. They turned.


Blue felt too hot in her clothes, every nerve ending on fire. She rubbed her thighs together unconsciously and bit her lip to mask a moan threatening to spill as cotton rubbed against her mound, fabric trapped uncomfortably between her outer labia due to moisture and anatomical differentia. The teen fought to still, gusset of her panties brushing her swollen clit upon movement.

It always amazed her, how easy she was, going from 0 to 60 in 3.5, like she was made to do just that. Of course, sex felt wonderful but it was a little scary, fighting for control over a little stimulation. She was used to keeping a straight face no matter what.

Not surprised to hear a noise indicating a group of voyeurs, the teen calmly smiled at Wanda and went back to peeling potatoes, humming under her breath.

- If you want to eat, come help. If I don't see you occupied, you can takeout or whatever, - She might have come off a little brash. Feeding over a dozen of people wasn't easy. The mountain of potatoes she had to peel was the size of a Great Dane and she didn't have the luxury of a cook's trained hands.

Both supersoldiers scrambled to help her peel potatoes, Clint and Natasha did the chopping, Tony grudgingly peeled carrots with Kate and Bruce, Thor took over the meat. Loki was a diva by himself in the corner but no one really wanted another monologue so the team left him alone. Pietro and the rest of Latvians were out for the evening.

- If you wouldn't be necking in the kitchen, you wouldn't be so frustrated! - Bucky mumbled under his breath, sitting on the floor around a plastic bag, between Blue and Steve, who snorted.

- It's not like you was plowing Steeben into the same counter three days ago, right after you gave him a handjob under the fucking table during lunch, - Blue muttered, side-eyeing the ex-Winter Soldier.

Steve smiled, indulgent at the banter and affectionate nickname.

- What can I say, can't help myself, - Bucky grinned, - I mean, have you seen him? He's like a fucking cake I want to bury my face in and devour!

- I don't know, man, seems pretty vanilla to me. Not my cuppa tea, - Blue hoped they would get the double-entendre, giving Steve a thoughtful once-over.

- You have no idea, babydoll, - Steve's gruff voice, like the time in her apartment, went straight to her already interested lady parts, successfully drenching the cotton of her panties. Blue hoped there would be no wet spot on her skirt.

They went on peeling potatoes, occasionally barking a laugh at the Avengers' antics.

The teen watched both soldiers out the corner of her eye, so she managed to carefully keep her face even upon noticing Steve's subtle shifting. Examining him some more, she was mortified to notice a detail - he was able to smell her arousal.

Rogers visibly forced himself to breathe in shallow, short pants, but wasn't always successful, flushing, squirming, crossing and uncrossing his long muscular legs upon each deep breath.

Blue could just watch this man move, all day, every day. Sit and stare.

Barnes might have been the same for all she thought, but he was the Winter Soldier, the etalon of self-control.

Blue's mortification was quickly overrun by an idea of revenge for Steve's completely intentional messing with her. The man will pay.

She shifted, folding her knees, calves underneath her butt and sat back on her heels.

Parted her knees, carefully smoothing the skirt - gotta stay decent.

The Captain exhaled, sharply, and gave the tiniest sound. Hyperfocused on his potato.

- You okay there?

He lifted his eyes. Oh, fuck!

Chapter Text

He could smell her. Sweet spicy tang, he tried not to breathe too deeply, self-conscious of the way his pants had tightened below the belt, swallowed each breath, savoured the musk assaulting his tastebuds.

Bucky squirmed next to him. Less obvious, but Steve knew him, and he couldn't deny that he was deeply affected by knowing his boyfriend felt the same about their little situation. He had half a mind to find an excuse to escape to the nearest empty room and bend Bucky over the nearest flat surface in thirty seconds or less, but his pride didn't let him turn tail. His reasoning would be painfully obvious, the air between three of them was charged with sex.

The nymphette knew what she did to them, there was no doubt in the distracted way she kept worrying her pout between her lips, looking at him from under her lashes. He nearly growled when she had switched position, vigorously concentrating on peeling his potato

- You okay there? - Blue was all wide-eyed innocence and worry.

He exhaled, suppressing a groan. - I'm great, babydoll, - Bucky snickered next to him.

Steve was just swell, drunk on adrenaline and lust.


- Was that necessary? You're cruel! - Wanda whispered in Blue's ear as she reached a salad bowl, leaning over the other girl. With five people missing from the dinner table everyone had their own seat. Blue sat between Wanda and Thor, the thunderer occupying most of free space on her left.

The teen gave Wanda a tilted smile, eyes mischievous: - You jelly?

She was rarely this playful with the witch. They often didn't have to speak to know what the other meant therefore losing the element of surprise. Blue had been purposefully avoiding skin to skin contact with Wanda, wanted to rile her up, bait her.

The witch pouted, answering: - What if I am?

Blue had been idly running fingertips of her right hand along the hem of her dress since they sat down next to each other. She briefly peeled the skirt up over her wrist, brushing her nails against Wanda's cotton-clad pubic bone.

- You'll gonna see less of me for a while, I'm starting school, - Blue told everyone. She acted as usual, checking her smartphone and being semi-quiet at the dinner table, all efforts gone to concealing jittery excitement.

Wanda bit her lip, slowly chewed her food. She, too, struggled to keep wriggling under control.

- Community college? - Natasha asked calmly.

- Not yet. Last year of High School, I never finished it, - Blue mirrored Natasha's expression while her fingers brushed against Wanda's thighs, prompted the witch to part her legs. Satisfied with the newly opened roaming space, the blue-haired teen traced a single fingernail over Wanda's panty-covered outer labia. Shortly after feeling the redhead shiver, Blue massaged her mound gently, moving aside the gusset of her underwear.

- It would have been hard to go to school pregnant, - The widow sounded compassionate. The teen in question developed an overwhelming desire to claw the spy's eyes out.

- I finished that year via online classes, red diploma and all. Was a little too busy with starting my business. - Petty passive aggression hid in the happy-tired tone of Blue's voice, akin to one's talking about their child. Her real estate firm was her child, in a way. Countless hours spent chasing property, getting necessary government permits for re-building, ordaining her workers' crew. She had had no foreign investors or partners, the unrestriced freedom of decision came with enormous responsibility. She was the only connecting chain between all segments of success.

Blue's actions reflected her true feelings in movement form and Wanda let out a shaky sigh. The teen's clever fingers dipped in the velvety heat, collecting the moisture that had accumulated around the redhead's entrance, spreading it between her labia, barely brushing her swollen, sensitive clit in a fast flick. Blue arduously traced the sides of Wanda's inner lips, squishing them together, before taking a fast dip and spreading them again.

- So what exactly do you do? Buy and re-sell? - Tony asked Blue. He bad noticed both Natasha's dismissive attitude and Wanda's red-faced overconcentration. The genius hurried to defuse the seemingly unavoidable cat-fight before it started.

- Refurbish and sell out. My city has quite a lot of abandoned and unkempt old buildings, mostly from the second world war and fifties, - Blue was very passionate about her job, - I fix them up to modern standarts, make nice apartments in 'em and out they go. People love old buildings, people need comfort of living. I just combine the two.

Meanwhile Wanda was gasping air, quietly, behind her fork, Blue's fingers stroking along her slit in broad vertical movements. She didn't apply much pressure or focus on the clit, simply glided three fingers up-and-down among the witch's outer labia. The teasing began to feel unbearable, steady repetitive movement made her oversensitive, having to stiffle wanton sounds trying to break free made her needy for more.

She tried squeezing her legs silently asking for it but was forced to relax upon meeting Blue's haughty-inquisitive look. Wanda's obedience was rewarded, the other teen ground two fingers hard against her clit making her jerk.

- USSR wrecked your country, pretty much. I imagine there's a lot to rebuild, - Bucky remarked gruffly. He'd been there a few times during his Winter Soldier days. Last time around the 80's, he'd told Blue earlier. It was a sad view.

Blue snorted. - One third of our people still want it back the way it was, - a hint of distaste in her voice, Blue put down her fork and patted her head, running fingers through her hair. - A lot has been made when Latvia entered Europe. But it's the capital, smaller cities and countryside lives in the early nineties still.

If anyone had heard Wanda's small squeak, they let it pass. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Thor looking at her, a knowing glint sparkling in his look. He kept silent though.

Blue gave the prince a wide smile, daring, as she dipped two fingers inside Wanda's tight, dripping opening and rubbed her thumb in fast, wide circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The witch vibrated with need. She let her head rest on her palm while her other hand viciously twisted the napkin folds, entwining the fabric among her fingers. Embarrassed thrill overtook her senses as she fought for control, desperate for the torture to end yet unwilling to let go right there, in front of everyone.

Blue felt elated and painfully turned on upon sensing Wanda's fast approaching orgasm, she allowed herself to twist in her seat and rub her thick thighs together in an attempt to relieve the coil low in her belly. The girl kept her desire in control, wary of beaming it through the mental bond. As fun as it seemed, telepathic sex had to be an intense experience, it wouldn't be so fun to have Wanda shame herself at the dinner table with nearly full team present.

Wanda's thighs quivered. Nimble fingers curled, probed deeper in her hot cunt hitting all sensitive spots along the slick inner walls. Her clit was rubbed with a steadily increasing purpose, fast and hard strokes opposed to previous idle caresses.

Wanda moaned with her mouth open wide as she came all over Blue's palm, release hitting her full-speed, like a freight train, dissolving into twitching aftershocks rippling through her limbs. Treacherous, clever fingers withdrew from her opening, continuing to rub around the nub in calming circles yet again.

Somewhere mid-wail she had managed to cover the 'o' of her lips with a hand in mortification, her face gaining the color of a beetroot in seconds.

- Oops, sorry! - The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

- We all had a long day, young one! You have had nearly fallen into slumber during the meal, it's all forgiven! - Thor boomed to Wanda's astounded gaping. He mistook it for a... yawn?

- I agree with Thor, we could use some rest, - Steve eagerly jumped on the track. Tony groaned. Everyone knew he just wanted to get it on with his beefcake of a boyfriend.

Blue removed her hand completely from the witch's underwear, smoothed it back in place and discreetly wiped her hand on her own skirt. She didn't miss the pointed look she got from Thor, nor the fact that the prince just covered her little stunt. He looked amused.

- That we will do then, - Blue swiftly got up, pulling Wanda along. They disappeared, not even bothering to pick up after themselves: - We cooked, the dishes are on you! - Blue's voice reached the kitchen.

Thor shook his head, wearing a fond smile, at their retreating backs.


The door to Blue's apartment floor shut with an obnoxious bang, sound angrily jumping off the walls. In the blink of an eye Wanda had Blue pressed against the object, face inches away from the other girl's, wrists firmly held in one hand in front of her. Blue didn't look scared or apprehensive, amused little fires dancing on her face.

- I hate you! - Wanda hissed, flustered.

- No, you don't, - Blue answered, calm and tiniest bit smug.

You could have asked me to stop and I would, at any point, Blue sincerely felt so, broadcasting the feelings and thoughts reassuringly via their bond.

Wanda sighed, knowing Blue said the truth yet unable to contain her frustration. You knew all well what you were getting into, now Blue just radiated self-confidence.

Wanda kissed her, all tongue and teeth and no finesse. Shut the fuck up!

Blue kissed back just as eager, wet tongue sliding in tandem with sloppy glide of her lips. She greedily inhaled all moans and gasps coming out of the other girl's mouth yet did not let out as much as a gasp of her own, asserting control in the duo's forthcoming adventure.

Amidst their passionate lip-locking, Wanda had let go of Blue's hands to try and tug off her shirt, skirt, underwear. Clumsy fingers unzipped the skirt, it fell down with a soft swoosh, pooling around her ankles. Blue withdrew from Wanda to pull her shirt overhead, immediately latching back onto the witch's lips as soon as the offending garment left her hands.

Wanda ran her hands along Blue's sides feeling the smooth curve of her waist, traced the tattoo on her ribs, gave a soft tug to piercing rings, pulling Blue's skin just how the redhead knew the other girl liked it.

Over the mental bridge sensations flowed freely, intensity multiplied. One didn't know where the other started, ended. Undeniable bonus it was, not have to take time to figure out what the partner liked, being guided by clear physical-emotional feedback. It felt like suddenly acquiring perfect vision in the dark, like hearing underwater.

Wanda'a dress hung on her waist in a shapeless heap, Blue's hands roamed her back, undid her brassiere. The witch gasped when the other girl's hands cupped her breasts, a perfect teardrop held in each hand, thumbs softly coaxing her nipples to full attention.

The redhead devoted her few onuccupied braincells to herd them both to the nearest flat surface; the kitchen counter will have to do for now. Strewn clothes on the floor marked their short way to the area, Wanda's panties flying somewhere in direction of main entrance as her back hit the cold black marble.

Blue loomed over her, mouth all red and puffy, hair toussled, cheeks and chest flaming. She was panting heavily.

- I want you, can I? - The question spoken soft, but the intent important. Wanda fought back sudden trepidation, the simple phrase meant so much to her. She nodded feverishly before nervous jitters could succeed in overtaking her frame.

Short, breathy moans and strained gasps once again involuntarily left her bitten lips as Blue latched onto her slim neck, planted hot open-mouthed kisses along her collar, returned to suck on that little sensitive spot behind her ear. Wanda got louder when the other girl took her skin between her teeth, biting and sucking forcefully, no doubt leaving an array of black and purple marks cascading down her chest.

The meager sting pulled strings in her gut taut, restricted her breathing in the best way.

When a nimble tongue lavished her nipple with attention, one after the other, the redhead arched her back with a pitiful groan. Lower it went, applied hot, moist pleasure to the underside of her breasts, skin coming alive beneath it's concentrated pressure.

Blue shifted, sliding to kneel, licking a horizontal stripe above Wanda's neatly trimmed pubic hair. After a moment of hesitation, she blew cool air on the moist area and watched the witch arch and moan again: - F-fuck, ahh...

With utmost captivation, Blue lowered her face between Wanda's thighs, warm humid breath fanning over the witch's most private parts. The teen inhaled sharply, licking her lips.

The redhead shivered, hands gripping the counter until her knuckles turned white. She felt open, vulnerable under her partner's hungry gaze, subconsciously tried to cover herself by closing her legs.

Blue palmed Wanda's long slim legs, positioning them on her shoulders. Inhaling deeply, she gave a long open-mouthed lick to the beautiful, wet cunt in front of her and heard a drawn-out moan above her head.

It was all the encouragement she needed. Blue dove in with vigour, hurrying to satisfy her own insatiable need for her lover's pleasure.

The teen danced her tongue around the witch's clit until she felt thighs quiver and tremble, careful not to apply direct touch to the tender, puffy area. Dipped her agile muscle in the redhead's hole, marvelling at the moisture, collecting it and rolling the musk on her tongue. A guttural moan escaped her throat, quickly echoed by the other girl.

Wanda lost herself in a boiling sea of pleasure, concentration leaving her thought by thought until all that remained was desperate drive for release.

- F-fuck, Soph, I need... - She tried, her vocal cords stubbornly refused to let out anything that wasn't a vague noise of pleasure.

Blue hummed in agreement, feeling everything as if she was the one laying spread-eagled with a tongue buried in her cunt. Mental connections are handy as fuck, she decided in a bout of determination and unhooked her right arm, bringing two fingers up to circle Wanda's entrance.

The teen watched it flutter in invitation. Slickening her digits, Blue pushed them in the redhead's wet hole and attached her mouth to the little cluster of nerves above it, giving it soft loving strokes with her tongue.

Wanda writhed under the amiable assault, moaning loudly and unabashedly, all coherent thoght leaving her mind. Her partner's mind was quiet in joyful concentration, allowing the telepath to truly feel. Blue didn't falsely advertise, she was an attentive, mindful lover, wholly dedicated to giving pleasure as much as receiving it.

The redhead's pelvic muscles clenched, abdomen pulled tight along with the steady rise of neural endings coming alight. Loud moans gave way to gasping inhales as she neared the edge.

Scream for me, baby. Be as loud as you want. Blue motioned 'come hither' once, twice inside Wanda's pulsating heat, added a few sucks on her clit and off the witch went.

Wanda felt her orgasm approach rapidly, arching off the counter. It hit her white beneath eyelids, left her throat in a hoarse yelp of something that might have been a curse or a name, completely unintelligible. She breathed heavily, feeling Blue's fingers and mouth withdraw from her private area, tried to get shivering limbs under control.

- Fuck, - the witch managed to gasp out. - Who taught you that? - The whole telepathy buisness was temporarily out of order. Brain cells were busy trying to figure out how to correctly intake oxygen.

Blue stood up, stretching her legs and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. - You did. Telepathic sex and all, - teen's whole face was soaking wet. Wanda happened to be a squirter.

- Surely you have had a lot of practice, no? - The witch snarked amicably, smiling. She shakily stood up and grabbed Blue by the hand, leading her to the bedroom.

- Ask Katie, she'll tell you all you want to know! - As usual, the sarcasm was doubled and returned to sender, nicely wrapped with a ribbon on top.


Blue's room was a messy affair. Clothes strewn on the desk, the two chairs next to it. Two unpacked suitcases stood in the corner next to a walk-in closet, more clothing pouring out of them in a colourful waterfall of fabrics. Curling iron was left on the floor right by the contact, all kinds of cosmetics laying beside.

A queen bed stood parallel to a window, which happened to also be a wall, which could turn into a mirror, the same layout as everyone else's layout. Despite it still being light and sunny outside, the window was dark. Blue hated heights and was already only begrudgingly accepting the crazy-sky-high balcony.

The bed, unsurprisingly, was very sloppily made and hosted a laptop and a space-patterned stuffed narwhal. Wanda levitated both recreational objects to the bedside table landing them aside two dirty mugs.

- Wanda, meet Kevin, - Blue dropped on the bed while pointing at her toy, landing on her back in a flurry of flailing limbs. She made no indication of self-consciousness or other discomfort, as if she forgot she was nude as the day she was born.

The witch climbed atop the teen's legs, giggling. She ran her hands on Blue's sizeable breasts and not-quite-flat tummy. Most of her midsection and chest was covered in white stretch marks, a few of them pinkish. A particularly deep welt had found it's place above her belly button giving it a deformed, elongated appearance. Her breasts also sported a disarray of pale stripes, albeit less noticeable than the ones decorating her stomach.

Wanda needn't have used her powers to know shame hidden behind Blue's easygoing attitude and wide smile, felt honoured almost at the teen's display of weakness. The witch got what she gave, back to back.

- You're so beautiful, - she reassured the teen. Motherhood left its marks on her body, the witch saw that as a symbol of bravery and accomplishment. Carrying two healthy children to term meant a lot, the unimaginable hard work and nights spent losing sleep - nothing went amiss of the witch's conscious, memories flowing through the bond between her and Blue.

The redhead did what she felt was right, kissing Blue slowly, poured passion and tenderness over the teen's lips. Hands found their way to tease her nipples; her chest lifting off the bed with a soft moan.

Wanda took her time exploring her lover's upper body with mouth and hands, fingertips kneading and stroking the soft fleshy mounds, mouth dipping to plant little suckles in the valley of her cleavage. The witch couldn't fit other girl's breasts in her palms so she settled for massaging the tops and twisting the erect rosy-brown puckers on them.

Blue reveled in the attention. It was clumsy in its inexperience but the effort behind it by far surpassed any skilful techniques. She made sure to voice her pleasures, not needing to fake it - their earlier activities substituted any foreplay that might have been needed.

She was hot, wet and roaring to go all the way.

Scooting lower, laying down on her stomach, Wanda stroked the tattoo above Blue's pubic bone and prompted her legs to part with a few slow pats on the inner thigh. "Lucky You" in black cursive, cheeky but true.

We'll go only as far as you are comfortable, Blue sensed Wanda's nervousness. I will be loud though.

Nodding, she cupped the fleshy mound of Blue's pussy in resolve, ground the heel of her hand against it eliciting a lustful moan from the teen's throat. Deeming her direction of thought acceptable, the redhead dipped index and middle fingers between the puffy lips, biting her lip at the formidable amount of moisture that collected there.

Sounds of enjoyment left Blue's mouth, a flowing cacophony, easily.

Running circles around Blue's clit made the noises die slowly. Wanda tried a different path: she stroked the nub vertically, pulling the hood upwards, touching it directly with force and pressure. The movement made Blue squirm and squeal in delight: - Oh fuck, fuck, fuck... - Hips punctuated each sound with a small rapid jerk.

Experimenting, long thin fingers entered the red glistening tunnel of her cunt, one, two and then three. There wasn't much resistance with all the slick leaking all over her palm. Wanda moved them in and out, staring at the main part of female anatomy closely for the first-ever time in her life. It was puffy and flushed dark pink, pretty in a way Wanda haven't thought it might be.

Cries of pleasure rose in volume bordering on screaming, filled the bedroom with the sense, taste and smell of sex. At some point Jarvis had lowered the lights on the "twilight" setting, making the room feel and look like a hot, foggy evening in the Deep South.

Blue threw her hands up and gripped the wooden headboard, grinding down onto Wanda's hands, not able to decide between the palm on her clit and fingers inside her cunt. Thighs and calves shaking, abs tight, sternum covered in glowing blush - she howled, approaching release on red hot feet.

When Blue finally let go, it was loud, wet, tight, and utterly beautiful. The way her eyes rolled back, little furrow appearing between eyebrows, lips stretched in a bitten-off little grin - not one change of expression escaped Wanda's astounded, curious stare.

She withdrew feeling accomplished. Started off apprehensive, quickly found herself loving it. Loving the soft curves, velvety heat of a woman. Softer, more expressive sounds opposed to a man's subtle grunting. The smell, sweeter, stronger. In the blink of an eye Wanda was pulled out of her wandering mind into a warm sweaty embrace, breathless laughter included.

- You're thinking too loud, - Blue accused, pulling the witch onto her shoulder to plant a kiss on top of her hair.

- Can't help but wonder... - Wanda started.

- You can make almost any man scream and howl with a few tricks and some genuine effort. - Blue interrupted teasingly.

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, - I seek your wisdom, Mistress of Penises! - Wanda burst out laughing at her own joke. Mirth was infectious and soon enough both girls rolled around on top of the covers, clutching their stomachs in attempt to stop the cramps and inhale some air.

Slick sweaty glide of young, soft bodies against each other spurred them into another round of making love, and then another. They met the dawn on the balcony, wrapped in sheets emanating the smell of sex, cigarettes in their hands.


- Holy fucking shit, what in the actual fuck happened to you? - Clint's outrage was supported by his teammates doing a spit-take.

Wanda sighed. She happened to be out of concealer and her neck and chest suffered great bruising during yesterday's sexcapade. How do you explain to a bunch of old fogies the "dog attack" look was the new shit and happened during a bout of completely consensual sex? Another sigh.

- Blue happened, - Kate muttered. Today she sat in Loki's lap.

Wanda hummed noncommittally, grabbing her combo of coke and energy drink from the fridge, manually. Wait til we use your old horny asses for practice. Defiant poise, she studied everyone, as usual.

Clint had worried awe, Natasha distaste, Thor and Loki remained unreadable as they had been from day one. Kate was a little envious, a dash of regretful sadness diluted her otherwise positive outlook. The desire to gain Loki's favour was on top of everything in the teen's head, making it her main priority. Huh, interesting. Pietro, her better half, had hope to join her and Blue in the nearest future.

Tony's hungry lust hit her in the bullseye, the man was a honest to god sex addict. Blue found him cute though, so Wanda left her to deal with engineer's crap. He was a clusterfuck Wanda neither wanted nor needed.

Steve and Bucky, well, she barely breached their conscious. Turned tail, consumed by the want want want - if she didn't do something about their super-sized frustration, spontaneous combustion was inevitable. Supersoldiers had appropriately large libidos after all, only if judging by the massive boner Rogers attempted to hide under the table.

Wanda more felt than heard Blue's approach, idly muttering: - We're fucked, - in the general direction of the door.

The girl entered like she owned the fucking place, grabbing her drink outta Wanda's hands in a lazy gesture. - No, darling! We got fucked! - She kissed Wanda's laughing mouth and left for her morning cigarette on the balcony, ignoring everything and everyone, cackling all the way.

- We're ALL fucked, - Kate face-palmed vigorously, seeing disbelief written on everyone's faces.

Chapter Text

Bucky stopped stroking his hard-on, removing his hands from himself in favour of landing long, tender strokes over Steve's plump backside. Thumbs running over his lover's tender hole, already stretched open by their previous copulation, sneaking their way inside to pull the sides, gaping it. A sticky river of ejaculate escaped Steve's asshole, the blond gave a drawn-out moan at the delicious wet stretch.

They've been at it for at least a few hours at this point yet Steve showed no signs of wanting to stop. Bucky had him on every surface of their shared bedroom and a couple of times in the shower, bent over the bathtub and up against the grey tiles. Steve fucked Bucky in their living room, on the couch, coming twice in his ass, only then having had mercy on the brunette and stroking him to orgasm, hard and fast.

Following what must have been no less than ten, maybe twelve, orgasms, the Captain remained hard, writhing and moaning like a common whore under his lover's touch, surrounded by blissful pleasure, craving and aching for more, greedy. He appeared to be floating in and out of coherence, surfacing only upon Bucky's inquisitive "Color?", choking on a "Green! Green, fuck!" in a hurried reply, moving, begging with his body.

Bucky would be lying to himself if he'd say he didn't know what made Steve act like a horny fifteen year old. Closing his eyes, he could almost smell her, dark chocolate and spices and subtle musk. His FuckingHydra™ super-serum might have been less potent than the one coursing through Steve's veins, but olfactory senses were considerably improved, coming in handy for detecting explosives, tracking and apparently - sensing mouth-watering arousal of a girl.

The simple thought of a pretty, willing dame splayed beneath his bulk made Bucky grind his throbbing dick between Steve's asscheeks, squeezing raspy moans outta them both. The brunette loved the way girls squealed on touch, soft skin, flushed. He loved to finger and lick, prepping them, dripping wet, open and loose for his cock before impaling them hard and fast and watching their tits bounce in time with his thrusts.

Steve let himself to be flipped on his back with Bucky immediately straddling narrow hips and slotting their cocks together, whining at the hot slide.

- Stevie, tell me something... - Buck started, curiously.

- A-ah, anything, Buck, - Steve opened his eyes, bleary and fucked-out, equally curious.

- You've done a pretty girl when I was... frozen? Maybe a handsome fella? - Bucky wondered. Somehow during their frenzied reunion and subsequent rebuilding of relationship they shared in the forties, he hadn't thought of asking Steve more than basic "What did you do?", too focused on rekindling the spark of friendship and intimacy.

- No, I, ah, never went further than some necking here and there, - Steve admitted, blushing furiously at his apparent lack of diversity in partners. He'd gone all the way only with Bucky and Aletta, a barmaid in Italy during the war. He and Bucky had shared her all night long.

- Why?

- Ladies say I'm too big... down there, - For such a cheeky little shit, the blonde could be unbelievably bashful at times, especially when it came to sex. One moment he'd be pleading Bucky to take him, ruin him, next moment the famous blush would come out if someone barely uttered a beginning of a raunchy joke.

- Hmm, I see, - Bucky drawled, thoughtful, palming both of their dicks in his prosthetic hand, stroking and coaxing more moans out of his partner.

Now Steve's cock was a mighty thing of beauty. Around ten inches long, almost as thick as a Coke can, veiny and uncut. With some cajoling it stood rock-hard and red, generously oozing milky precum, begging to be licked. Bucky could see how it could be intimidating, always having to take extra time to stretch himself before his asshole could withstand the pounding without significant damage.

Being by no means small himself, he had encountered the same issue a handful of times while attempting to get into a girl's underthings, however Steve's prick comically dwarfed out even his own.


- I think we should ask Blue out, - Bucky said, lounging on the couch post their earlier fuck session.

- Buck! She is way too young and married, - Steve deadpanned.

- Her husband is okay with her sleeping with other people, Stevie, - Bucky matched Steve's tone. He found it strange, of course, but was he really the one to judge? People have come a long way since the forties. What he and Steve did wasn't a crime anymore, some people even lived in more than couples - what's a litte sharing compared to the things he had seen on the internet...

- I don't know, baby, - the Captain sighed, rubbing his face. He knew both of his excuses were flimsy.

- Look, doll, she ain't a kid, - Solemn tone of Bucky's voice startled Steve, making him look up. - She has had her life in order for a while, what can't be said for us even now. And we are almost a century old, Stevie.

- Exactly, Buck! I feel like a disgusting old man creeping on a barely legal biddy!

Bucky sighed. The stubborn little punk will deny his weakness until the very end, irregardless of the circumstance. - You're just twenty-six, Stevie. Although, it seems, mentally Blue is way ahead of your dumb self.


Blue had all but disappeared from the tower.

Started school at eight o'clock, finished at five, the rest of time spent in her room hunched over one assignment or another. She emerged in late evenings, scavenging the common kitchen for dinner leftovers, quickly wolfing down the food and leaving to get a few hours of sleep, often dropping on her living room couch wearing that day's clothes, not bothering with removing shoes or make-up. Piles of paperwork followed her around, stacked messily on the nearest surface, often forgotten; retrieved in the middle of the night in a rush of "Oh, shit! Where's my biology homework?!".

Wanda and Pietro went to school with Blue but couldn't explain why she was always busy - only said Blue was always way ahead on classwork and often stayed after hours in history and linguistics classes.

Saturday evening met everyone with a lazy humid warmth, sun slowly dropping beneath the horizon, painting azure skyline with white, orange and copper lines. The first heatwave had died with the approach of July, making the city hold its breath for next one, enjoying cool breeze and occasional rainy sprinkle when it hit.

One busy soul, just like many others in New York, was sitting in front of a wall-window, too carried away in her own world of papers and assignments to notice the changes in weather and the spectacular view from the skyscraper.

Surrounded by a myriad of books and papers, two opened laptops on the side and a trash can full of empty Red Bull containers, Blue was utterly submerged in a world of medieval history, precisely about thirty pages into her research. Not faltering even once, steady hand scribbled on a notebook page while the other one rapidly flipped through a thick old book occasionally switching to poke at a dictionary next to it.

Wanda and good part of the team had been standing around the chaotic living room for good twenty minutes absolutely unnoticed by the teenager.

The witch looked equally worried and grouchy. She missed her friend, being the first one to break the quiet spell: - Blue!

- M'busy, later, - The teen didn't spare a look in their direction, muttering to herself in a language no one understood.

- That's it! This is an intervention! - Wanda fumed and signalled Thor with a hand.

The thunderer grinned and snuck up to Blue, attempting to bodily grab the girl. In a bout of surprising agility she rolled away, papers flying everywhere.

- What the fuck, man? - Blue demanded, eyes darting frantically between Wanda and a laughing Thor. - You can't just grab random people! It's illegal! - Her outrage wasn't exaggerated: she was very mad, having had lost the thought before she could manage putting it on paper.

- When did you eat last time? Sleep? Shower? - Kate chimed in from her perch on the countertop, crossing her arms, chewing on a twizzler.

- Today! - Blue got up sharply. Standing five foot two and wearing a pastel tye-dye dress and pink knee socks, she attempted to glare down Thor and Wanda simultaneously, succeeding only in making the Asgardian laugh harder.

- Miss Blue, however, has not consumed what Captain Rogers deemed to be healthy substances in sixty-four hours, and has not rested more than six hours in the afromentioned time period. - Jarvis sounded smug, if a machine even could have intonation in its mechanical vocalization.

Blue pouted.

- You're pushing it, babygirl, - Tony frowned, walking over to poke at papers scattered around the teen.

- Here's what you're going to do, - Steve started, authority rumbling in his voice, effectively silencing any protest with a raised hand. - You're going to get ready to go out, put on something fresh and we're gonna go eat at the Thai place Tony recommended last week. It's not fancy, just private. And when we return, you're to get at least eight hours of sleep.

- You can't make me! - Blue argued defensively all the while pushing Tony with her hands on his back, away from her work and towards the exit door.

- Try me! - The engineer and the Captain voiced in unison, the former using Blue's hands on his back to throw her over his shoulder. Her legs flew in the air, flailing, as she fitfully tried to escape the hold.

With some maneouvreing, Tony flipped Blue so her butt was next to his head, his hands on her thighs, preventing painful kicks to the front area of his muscular body. Blue had some soft unicorn slippers on her feet but damn good aiming skills.

The back of her short dress went over her bottom, displaying a pair of panties with Cap's shield on the back, the deep blue fabric skimpy, doing next to nothing in terms of coverage.

- Nice digs, short stuff, - Tony was positively glowing with the prospect of blackmail, but then again, so was everyone else - except the Captain himself. His expression bordered between embarrassed and hungry, a rosy blush creating distraction from the wide pupils of his blue stare.

- I'm not short, I'm fun-sized! - Blue shrieked, laying open-handed blows whenever she could reach on the engineer - back, ass, thighs. - You goddamn perv, lemme go! - More shrieking, more struggling.

- Nu-uh, you're gonna go even if I have to wash, dress and drag you there myself, - Tony threatened, gleeful still. He could be nothing but determined when he wanted.

- NO! I dun wanna! - The teen whined while the engineer dragged her squirming body into her bedroom, one hand firmly around the back of her legs and the other pulling at her shoes and socks.

Their teammates watched the spectacle in amusement, tactfully pretending not to notice Steve radiating envy with every cell of his body, mouth set in a hard line, pocketed hands creating a bulge in the kangaroo pocket of his green hoodie where he bailed them in tight fists.

- While Blue takes a shower and Steve visits the enchanting land of denial, I'm gonna clean up this mess. Feel free to help, - In an unusual outburst of vicious sarcasm, Kate voiced her mind, moving in to empty the long-time overflowing trash can and give some resemblance of order to Blue's paper hurricane on the living room floor.


Meanwhile, Tony had accomplished the task of wrestling Blue into the bathroom and removing the outer layer of clothing from her body. She was left to pout in the middle of the bathroom in nothing but her underwear with Tony sitting on the toilet throwing appreciating looks on her almost-nude body.

- Quit, - Blue huffed, self-conscious, hiding her insecurity behind a facade of distaste for being interrupted in the middle of her work. She didn't mind the concept of Tony seeing her in the nude but was very aware of the people he hung around on a daily basis, never could compare herself to literal gods. And Natasha, good Thor, the woman was the epitome of physical perfection.

To not mistake Blue's views for envy, she simply had a realistic outlook on herself: she might be good, even above average on the attractiveness scale, nonetheless two children and rapid growth during puberty left lasting marks on her body. At her young age, she felt stretch marks and a few extra pounds on her hips were abnormal, unsightly, something that shouldn't be there under any circumstance.

She'd learned to hide her obvious flaws with clothing, make-up, tattoos - all standard tricks to make people see her the way she wanted to be. Blessed with a pleasant face and large breasts, those were all the distractions she needed to climb the scale and get people to like her.

She had accepted her own appearance, flaws and all, but that didn't mean she had to like it. One could look good, there was always better. Until achieving the desired outcome was possible, she flaunted what she got rather than giving some douchebag opportunity to take a ride through her self-esteem. Fake it 'til you make it, indeed.

- Get in on, babe, we don't have all night, - Tony smugly gestured towards the fogged-glass shower stall. More like shower stadium, considering the size of that thing. The engineer was still leering but keeping his eyes on Blue's face.

- Ugh, you're all fucking cunts! - She shook her head at the absurdity that was this situation, unclasping her brassiere, throwing it at Tony's face, following with her panties, laughter bubbling on her lips upon hearing her projectiles hit the target square in the face.

In the shower, she started to recount all the most annoying, obnoxious songs she knew, singing them loudly - starting with "Let It Go", satisfied with continuous groaning from the man behind the glass.

Exiting the stall, she noted Tony was gone, but so were her towels and clothing. Ha, take that Can Man, I keep spares in the vanity drawers.


- Oh, come the fuck on! What the fuck? - Unable to contain their profanity, both the engineer and the teen grudgingly stared at each other.

Tony was disgruntled his prank failed, Blue - annoyed at the fact that everyone invited themselves into her bedroom. Clint was going through her computer, Loki looking over his shoulder. Thor, Bucky and Wanda lounged on her bed, Natasha inspected the array of small crap on her desk and Steve played cards with Pietro and Bruce. Her cards.

Blue was shocked at the casual way they made base in her private space, especially Clint and Loki, watching some sort of video, one of her kids birthday parties if judged only by sound.

She was clad in only a towel, hair done up in a messy bun, but damn she was angry. First things first, she needed to get dressed: - Jarvis, what's the weather?

- Twenty-six degrees Celsius, miss. A slight chance of rain in the next four hours.

- Ugh, still too damn fucking hot, - Blue attempted to pour out her outrage into it. Keeping her mouth shut about the intrusion was the best bet for avoiding another pointless bickering match - God, she was so tired. Large groups of people made Blue jumpy and irritated. Eternally noisy, running around - all of it was pointless, the fast pace gave her nothing but headaches from overstimulation.

Schoolwork in her quarters had been a blessing. Maybe she had overdone it, yet once she allowed herself to submerge in serenity of books on her favourite subjects, the cocoon of soft silence became addictive. Not needing to bother with meaningless banter, pretending to care, forcing herself to come up with ways to be ahead of everyone. With her studies, she could actually put her brain to work on fruitful things.

Blue paid no mind to everyone around, floating in her own headspace in a vain attempt to block out her own bitterness along with the commotion around her. She quickly threw on a pair of underwear, a pink lacy bra and matching panties, a loose black shirt that she tucked into a pink skirt, some black thigh-highs. A black choker with a lone pearl went on her neck as she hurriedly applied some eyeshadow and eyeliner.

Throwing a glance at the mirror in her spacious closet that might as well serve as a back-up bedroom, Blue sighed. The bra she wore was largely visible, lace peeking out from behind the straps of her shirt, and kittens on her stockings clashed with Space Princess Lumpy on her skirt.

- Meh, - was her own verdict, exiting the closet.


The cloud of agitation didn't leave Blue's demeanour throughout the short but packed ride to the restaurant. The team had to take three separate large vans to fit everyone.

Steve was stuck in a hot vehicle with Tony, Bruce, Blue, Clint and Pietro. Bucky was driving, one arm lazily thrown over the steering wheel, the other resting on Steve's thigh.

The engineer showed his childish nature by performing wet willy on every person within his reach, poking and pestering until he got an outraged reaction or a slap on the wrist, just to repeat the process with someone else.

Or a bite in the arm, in Blue's case. Steve, of course, laughed at Tony's pained yelp yet couldn't hold back worry from overcoming his mind. The teen was grouchy from the moment he acknowledged the plan, now she looked downright murderous. She seemed to prefer keeping her unfocused stare on the window, ignoring everybody, taking an occasional swat at Tony when he got up in her face. Those actions made her frown deepen, less in an annoyed way and more like "I'm about to jump out of this car going at 60 mph".

Rogers haven't seen her behave in this way, ever, he was under the impression her and Tony could argue for hours before she got fed up. All the jabs he threw flew right back in the blink of an eye with the same bored-amused expression she wore daily.

Steve guessed something must have happened between Tony and Blue when the engineer dragged her away to her room. That unsettled the Captain - his bearded friend didn't have much in the way of tact or self-restraint but he wasn't... like that. Putting aside their own differences, Tony wasn't a rotten apple.

The Captain frowned and took note to put some time aside to have a talk with both of them.

- Tony, stop it. Please stop, - It came out more like an order than he hoped, nonetheless the engineer did cease his pestering but not before reaching into Blue's shirt and snapping the strap of her bra like a middleschooler.

- Do that again and you won't be able to feed your narcissism in another photoshoot for a fucking month, Stark, - Blue spoke in an overly-calm, quiet growl surprising the occupants of the vehicle with the outburst.

This ain't right, Steve thought, babydoll doesn't get angry like that over petty teasing. His suspicions began to confirm.

- Alright alright, Bitter Betty, - the engineer continued to run his mouth despite everybody's groaning.

- Как же ты меня заебал*, - Blue murmured through gritten teeth and began tapping on her smartphone.

Bucky snickered and made vague noises of agreement, looking every bit as wary as Steve felt.


In the restaurant, Blue choose to sit in the far corner, small form hunched over a smartphone. Steve and Bucky nodded to each other in an unspoken agreement and flanked her sides, quickly taking place on both sides. She all but disappeared behind the supersoldiers' broad bulk.

- You've got beautiful kids, - Clint said, one everybody settled in.

- And smart, and the best, - Blue smiled smugly, swallowing her inner distaste for Clint's and Loki's snooping.

A brief moment of awkward silence followed. Steve side-eyed Blue for a while, picking up a safe topic and chattering away to distract everyone from ganging up on the girl and littering her with questions. It was a success, she wordlessly squeezed his leg under the table in thanks, staying quiet throughout the whole meal, busy in her own headspace.


The talk Steve carefully planned during the meal was postponed indefinitely: upon returning to the tower, most of the team including himself was whisked away on a mission to Russia to fight yet another army of some megalomaniac's mutated polar bears.

He had seen a movie called "The Golden Compass", it appeared so did the villain: the bears the team fought were hulk-sized and clad in a grotesque armour. Thankfully, the mutants were not sentient and remained simply trained animals.

All throughout the battle Steve couldn't help but feel the sharp lack of Bucky's presence. Maria Hill had explicitly forbidden Barnes to show his face in Europe: United States of America had forgiven his crimes but European Council refused to do so, along with Russia and China.

The Captain's thoughts drifted to his long-time-lover frequently, hoping the brunette wouldn't happen to have a bad day while he's all the way across the globe with no one capable of comforting or restraining him.

The only other occupant in Avengers tower was Blue: the rest of the Latvians flew over to Malibu for the duration of the mission. She stubbornly refused to leave, citing school as the main issue, going as far as to argue with Natasha. Blue had no problem renting a short-term accommodation - it was Tony who insisted she stay in the tower, either as an apology or out of frustration from watching Romanoff and Blue argue in Russian for an hour or so, the former utilizing her death stare on the teen.


- Hey, Bucky, - Blue softly knocked on the cracked open door to his and Steve's shared apartment, eyes bright, her rumpled clothes covered in flour and tomato sauce among other indistinguishable condiments. The teen had abandoned homework in favour of cooking up a feast for the superhero homecoming musing the team could use some home made food over a greasy pizza.

The amount of things needed preparation was never-ending: she was up and about starting at 6 a.m. yet the to do list only grew and grew. Not the one to give up easily, she embarked on a journey to recruit the other person at home: Bucky Barnes.

He had been sulking in front of his TV since Steve left yesterday evening. Blue texted him at breakfast but he didn't answer, so she started without him - right now it was 1 p.m. and still no answer. It would be an understatement if she'd say she was a little worried, knowing all too well how horrible it could be wallowing in miserable anxiety alone.

Bucky didn't react to Blue's greeting holding his unfocused stare on the television screen looking sad and miserable and miles and miles away.

- Привет**, - with a sigh, Blue repeated her greeting a little louder.

Hearing Russian snapped Bucky out of his head and he turned a pair of bleary, tired eyes to the door with a quiet grunt. Blue noted the greasy hair, yesterday's clothes on him. A few blankets and pillows made a messy nest on the floor, unopened water bottle on the coffee table next to the couch.

Another long sigh left her frowning lips as she slowly made way to the brunette, pausing before sitting down next to his tense body. She left two palms' distance between them and rested her hands on her knees where Bucky could see them. They sat there for a moment, his tension slowly ebbing away.

- Have you slept or eaten since yesterday? - Blue avoided looking straight at him to avoid unsettling him, taking care to use a casual tone, albeit softer than her usual amused-annoyed way of speech.

- No. - A grunt.

- Okay. Do you want to?

Silence was her answer. If judging only by the slightly confused look Bucky gave her, he struggled with expressing his desires after his brainwashing.

Blue didn't know much on the topic of recovering ex-human weapons, or even veterans, tortured or not. She had a small experience in dealing with heavy abandonment issues and parental violence in kids, depression, have had experienced that on herself and seen that in others. It was a win-or-lose situation here, she was not a professional, armed only with good will against a skittish, undoubtedly scared and lonely, tortured man.

He could snap her neck in a moment. And then blame himself. Shut Steve out, maybe even try to commit suicide. He'd been doing magnificent on shedding his programming, Steve had shared earlier. Who even was she to risk Bucky's sanity like that?

Yet she couldn't just leave now. He'd confessed his problem, didn't he? Food and sleep it is.

- Can I touch you? - A tentative question left Blue, met with distrust and returning tension. - I won't hurt you. I want to give you a hug, - She tried to explain, hoped he'd believe her. Once the initial contact is made and a boundary was established and respected, she could move on to the next stage.

Blue hurriedly recalled what little she knew on approaching very young abused kids. Bucky looked like one, confused and scared.

He nodded, body hard as rock with fear coiling deep in his eyes.

Blue moved, maybe, a little slower than normally, sitting up on her knees. She wrapped her soft pale arms under his armpits, from the side, leaving both of his hands free if he needed to push her away. The crook of her neck bore gravy stains and surely smelled like garlic, remaining open should he seek comfort in her, unlikely as it might be. Blue held Bucky until he dared to unclench his upper body, sagging against her torso with a heavy breath, head hung hopelessly.

- I wa... need... Want Steve, - the brunette quietly hiccuped, struggling to find the right words.

- I know, baby boy, - the affectionate nickname softly escaped her mouth without warning and she cringed, berating herself for such frivolity.

Haven't been expecting a change in position, Blue gasped feeling arms, one flesh, one metal, sneak their way around her waist and hips, enveloping her in a tight embrace. Bucky's shoulders shook but no tears left his reddened eyes, evidently he had cried for a long time already, maybe all night. No sound left his tightly closed mouth, short wet breaths swooshing over her shirt where the brunette rested his head on her chest.

- Why don't we eat something? - Blue attempted another way of phrasing.

- Want Steve. - Was her only answer, nothing but a whisper.

The similarity between Bucky and behaviour of an abandoned child astounded Blue, his attitude was almost text-book to the smallest point of their conversation. Suddenly she understood why questions didn't work: he simply lacked the capacity to decide, his thoughts wholly focused on reclaiming his apparent 'caretaker'. Blue sighed sadly, hand reaching out to pet his hair. She felt lucky Bucky didn't tense, instead leaning into the touch.

- Here's what we're going to do, Jamie, - she sternly said, picking out a less intimate nickname. - First, we'll get up and go upstairs. Then we are going to eat some mashed potatoes and meatloaf. I'm not going to make you, but Stevie would be very happy to know his boy is staying healthy. - Technically Blue knew mentioning Steve like that was manipulative yet she was out of ideas how to make Bucky eat, and even less so what to do if he would pass out, what inevitably would happen with the lack of food in his belly. Supersoldier equals super metabolism.

Bucky wound his arms tighter, started hiccuping more, - You're so warm and soft, please don't leave me, please no, - he begged.

- I'm going to let you hold my hand, how about that? - Blue said softly. Bucky violently shook his head.

- No!

- I can sit in your lap when we eat, okay? - She pleaded, and he stopped shaking, nodding at last.

She helped him to get up, grasping his flesh hand between the two of her own. Arriving in the messy kitchen, Blue immediately turned the loud music down and picked up a plate, filling it with food: creamy mashed potatoes, an enormous slice of meatloaf and some mixed baked vegetables, setting a couple of water bottles next to it.

Bucky stared at the food like it was the most offensive thing in the universe from his perch on the barstool and didn't pick up his utensils when Blue parked herself on top of him. Sighing - she had to do it a lot in this situation, so heartwrenching - she fed the soldier morsel by morsel, prompting him to open his mouth with quiet, softly spoken words of praise.

He fidgeted nervously, startling himself each time the metal arm whirred its recalibration protocols yet overall looking a little less miserable than he was downstairs.

Blue deemed it a success, he cleared most of the plate with very little fuss, not counting his skilful avoidance of peas and broccoli, and she stiffled a giggle at the thought of the feared Winter Soldier using his evasion skills to get out of eating his vegetables.

- You did real good, Jamie, I'm so proud, - Blue resumed petting his hair watching him blossom and give a tiny tilt of his lips at the kind words. She fell into deep thought, building a chain of events that might let him to at least take a nap. Surely sleep wouldn't come easy, nightmares were unavoidable - and that was dangerous. He might lash out, harm himself or try to hurt her. If he were a regular person it wouldn't be a problem, but the sheer strength of that trained body... She wouldn't survive a blow.

Trying to get him exhausted was the best option, hoping he'd crash somewhere and pass out. Leaving him like that made guilt bubble up in the teen's gut. Besides, she couldn't exactly provide him any challenging physical activity.

Something mind-numbing and repetitive - the idea struck unexpectedly while she eyed her preparations for the Great Team Feast™.

- Jamie, I need your help with dinner, - Blue stated matter-of-factly. - Peel the carrots and put three pots of water to boil. No touching knives allowed, - she said as an afterthought.

Bucky looked grateful, nodding and moving into the far corner of the room where he could observe her at all times and keep an eye on the exit, back to the wall. Direct orders seemed to work well on him, Blue mused to herself, wondering if Steve was informed about certain practices that could help Bucky feel better about himself.

Giving up control in a safe, loving environment was one way to cope with trauma. Re-learning positive reinforcement, substituting memories, erasing the unhealthy connections and habits.

Blue set aside a mental marker to send Steve some resources on the topic. She was no shrink but even then could tell Bucky most likely benefit from discovering that direct orders didn't necessarily mean inflicting pain on others. He didn't have to be punished for wants and needs.

At two a.m. both wrapped up in the kitchen and left for Bucky's floor, taking a short detour for Blue's room to fetch a blanket. It was soft velour and silly pictures of pugs adorned the thick fabric, the brunette happily wrapped it around himself in his place on the couch. Predictably, he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow, exhausted from the worry and calmed by the simple monotonous tasks he had been doing all evening.

Blue never once stopped her hand running through his thick greasy hair, neither she attempted to untangle the hand he had been clutching in the soft cotton of her shirt.


[02:44] Blu: text me at the first opportunity pls
[02:46] Steeb: On our way. ETA in 5h. Is there an emergency?
[02:47] Blu: Bucky had a bad day. He's watered and fed, hopefully will stay asleep. I'm going to have some words with you, Rogers.
[02:48] Steeb: omg what happened?? are you hurt!? is Bucky ok?????
[02:49] Blu: Nobody's hurt, not physically at least.
[02:50] Steeb: What the fuck do you mean at least??
[02:51] Blu: You should have known better than that, Steve.

Blue knew she had no right to be angry at Steve. Yet she fumed to herself.

He damn well knew Bucky could become helpless with no one to keep an eye on him. No matter how much he barked he didn't need a babysitter, if it wouldn't be for her coaxing, the brunette would most definitely would have done something stupid like shut down from hunger, harm himself for some bad deed he had no control over... or worse. There could be no way Steve didn't know the severity of Bucky's depression unless he truly had the empathy of a spoon. Which was unlikely. Steve was smart, smarter than he let people think, if someone would look past the whole blushing sigil of purity facade that is.

A good shrink would have told him that Barnes needed to learn to get by on his own, to become his own person and not depend on someone to keep him together. That would be the perfect scenario. Life doesn't work like that.

James Barnes was erased from existence in the most painful, literal way. Then brought back to life with zero knowledge in anything beyond the basic instinct and Steve, his face and name. It made utter sense that the Captain would always remain Bucky's beacon in the proverbial dark. It wasn't a case of sudden amnesia and veteran syndrome. A large, ugly mass of mistreatment: torture, cocktails of drugs, murder... God knows what, Hydra could have made Bucky believe they killed his love in front of him or made some sort of a Steve-doppelganger to beat the shit out of Bucky, or rape him... The possibilities were endless, each one worst than the previous.

Blue doubted there's a doctor skilled enough on Earth to work with the ex-assassin. Maybe Thor and Loki knew someone?

She was angry at the team, too. Bucky might have shit in their shoes so to speak, sure, yet the dismissive attitude everyone seemed to have was... even more anger-inducing. He didn't choose to do those horrible things. It wasn't even him per se, a physical body with a hole for a mind.

By the time sun rose above the horizon the teen had to restrain herself from strangling everyone on sight and setting fire to the tower in gleeful revenge for the blatant ignorance and lack of humanity.

[06:59] Blu: Be quiet. Bucky is still sleeping.
[07:11] Steeb: Ok, ETA 10min.

The blue-haired teen stretched idly, yawning. She spent the night boiling with anger instead of sleeping and felt tired and cranky. The smallest spark of defiance would set off her already short fuse.

When the door opened and Steve stepped in, astoundingly quiet in his heavy combat boots and torn, dirty gear with a look of panic on his face, Blue felt her own expression settle into a hard mask of angry, grim determination.

The Captain raised his eyes from where a pug-patterned lump rested halfway onto teen's lap and froze in his steps.

Blue stared.

Chapter Text

Hey guys.

So I've been idling to pick up some writing again but it seems like my Muse has (so far) permanently abandoned this story. I'm sorry to disappoint y'all, I can't make any promises to you guys that this will continue but... And there's always a "but"... Maybe I'm gonna un-twist my knickers sometime and continue with this.

If you're looking for a filthy orgy with the avengers involved, I've got something coming up for you with considerably less plot and much more porn.