Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mother Earth
Request for Obsidian (or Austin Hamato)
A/N: so this one doesn’t have a time frame so I’m saying that Coulson is still alive, cuz he and Maria are the best agents (not counting Natasha and Clint cuz I count them as Avengers)

It hurt, being alone all the time. It hurt, never having friends or family to spend time with or talk to. It hurt, having to distance yourself from the world thanks to your own mishap. It hurt, being a danger to your loved ones.
You were incredibly intelligent, and very scientifically inclined. You knew a little bit about SHIELD, and you’d met and even worked alongside Bruce Banner a few times. You imagined that it was inevitable – being married to the director of SHIELD meant you had to meet its associates sometime.
You still kept your distances, even though Bruce understood your fears. He shared your fears, though your circumstances varied extremely. He had the tendency of turning into an enormous green rage monster while you had the tendency of inadvertently creating earthquakes and tornadoes.
You and your team had been working on a cure for a minor but deadly disease, when your lab partner misread the ingredient amounts and got a few things switched around. The liquid inside the glass beaker bubbled over before the beaker exploded, sending its contents flying about the room. Several globs landed on your skin and in your hair, soaking into your being and giving you a green glow. Your partners ran, leaving you standing in the lab, covered in goo.
Since then, you’d had Mother Earthly powers. You could create plant life as well as take it away – your personal garden was exceedingly abused due to your mood swings. Your flowers and herbs flourished when you were happy, having saved a city or gotten a raise at your day job. But all of your plants withered and wasted away whenever you lost a civilian or created more harm than good.
You still worked as a scientist, lending a helping hand to various universities. Everyone in the science world knew your name and your predicament, and many were afraid to engage in contact. They all worried that you’d turn on them, much like the Hulk. You could cause just as much damage as the green guy, tearing up streets and flipping cars and tearing down trees with just one flick of your wrist.
You were powerful.

“Sir, we’ve picked up a mutant signal,” Maria Hill called, not looking away from the computer monitor.
“Where?” Fury inquired, moving to stand beside the agent’s chair.
“Manchester, New Hampshire,” she replied.
“Is it dangerous?”
“According to the news articles, she’s powerful but on our side. She uses the earth to attack invaders, but some civilians get hurt in the process.”
“What do you mean, ‘she uses the earth’?”
“She’s described as being the Hulk of nature,” Maria said with a raised brow, looking up at the director.
“So she controls nature?”
“Apparently. She can manipulate plants and cause natural disasters.”
“And she’s on our side?”
“Some civilians don’t trust her, probably the families of the ones that got hurt, but most of them are grateful of her powers.”
“Let’s track her down,” Fury ordered. Maria nodded and tracked the coordinates she’d found.

You were in the middle of packing when a loud knock came upon your door.
It became a habit of yours to pack up and move whenever you caused too much damage in one town, be it to the town itself or its citizens. You used your Mother Earth ways for good, always, but being able to manipulate the very ground people walk on, sometimes without meaning to, proved to be a very dangerous power. You had saved the town, or most of it, during the last invasion, but the injuries caused by your plant abuse had been too great.
Your packing was halted as you slowly migrated towards the door. You pressed your forehead against the door, allowing you to look through the peep hole to inspect your visitor. Your brows furrowed together before a gasp of recognition left your lips. Standing on your doorstep were two SHIELD agents, one man and one woman, in their uniforms, sternly unemotional expressions on their faces.
You took a deep breath as you opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“(y/n) (l/n)?” the woman greeted.
At least they didn’t know who you really were. You’d changed your last name to lower suspicions. You knew SHIELD would have come after you much sooner if they knew who you married. “Yes?”
“Agent Hill and Agent Coulson of SHIELD,” the woman said. “We need you to come with us.”
“Why?” You had hoped to ditch town before they caught wind of the last battle.
“We would like to question you,” the man, Coulson, said.
“What about?”
“About your powers,” Agent Hill answered. “SHIELD has been monitoring citizen reports and you seem to be a big deal.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” you breathed softly before you could stop yourself.
“We understand that,” Coulson nodded. “We just need you to come with us.”
You mused that you didn’t really have a choice. At least if you were with them, you couldn’t inadvertently hurt anyone. There wouldn’t be trees and grass inside their headquarters… right?

They led you back to the Quinjet which flew the three of you back to the base.
“Sir,” Coulson said into his earpiece. “We’ve got her.”
“Bring her to my office,” Fury replied.
Coulson nodded to Maria. They let go of their holds on your arms, but made sure you couldn’t get away. Maria opted for walking behind you while Coulson led the way.
He knocked on a large black door, waiting for a “Come in” before he opened it. You kept your head down. You knew that voice. You knew who the Director of SHIELD was. You took in a breath as you stepped into the room.
Fury stopped. “…(y/n)?”
“You know her, Sir?” Maria asked, confused.
“Leave her to me,” Fury instructed. The agents shared a look before leaving. You watched them go before looking around the room awkwardly.
“You’re the mutant with the plant control?” he asked in surprise.
“Yes,” you replied softly.
You were staring at the floor, watching as his feet stepped closer to you. A warm hand rested on your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered emotionally.
“I know,” you replied brokenly. That was largely your fault. After the accident that gave you your powers, you ran, afraid of hurting the people you loved – especially Nick.
“Why did you leave?” he asked. “You left without even leaving a note. Why?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you whispered. “I didn’t know how to control what happened to me and even when I do control it, it hurts people.”
His arms wrapped around you, quickly pulling you into his chest. You gasped, tears threatening to spill over your eyes. You’d missed him so much more than you realized. Your arms wrapped around his torso, squeezing tightly as though you were afraid this was just a dream.
“I missed you,” he whispered into your hair.
“I missed you too,” you replied, your voice cracking as your eyes shed a few tears. He nudged your head with his nose, causing you to look up at him. His lips pressed against yours, which you eagerly returned. His arms tightened around you as he held you close.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he whispered against your lips.
“Never,” you promised.

Chapter Text

Who Let the Dogs Out?
Request for Shakespeare girl aka Kate Coulson
A/N: Book references! TV references!

Loud banging sounded on your door, making you jump and nearly spill the pot of sauce you were stirring. You glanced at the clock on the stove and calendar on the fridge, remembering that it was your day off and there was no reason for anyone to be at your door. It was a little after noon and you hadn’t made plans with any of your friends, desperately looking forward to a day of lounging around, maybe some light cleaning, and catching up on your favorite shows.
With a soft sigh you left the stove and headed to the door. Standing on your tip-toes you looked through the peephole, finding Agent Hill and… an Australian Shepherd? Brows furrowing in confusion, you opened the door gesturing for the agent and her dog to come in.
“When did you get a dog?” you inquired, reaching down to pet the furball. He licked and nipped at your hand in a friendly manner, causing your lips to twist into a small smile.
“Coulson found him wandering around Headquarters,” Maria replied. “We thought you might be able to look after him. You like dogs, right?”
“I love dogs,” you replied as the Shepherd wandered around your apartment. “So no one knows who he belongs to?”
“Nope,” she answered. “We’re putting up flyers and asking around, but he has no tags or anything.”
“Well, I guess he can stay here until then,” you shrugged. Maria thanked you before leaving you alone with the dog, who had now curled up on your couch. You chuckled softly as you looked back at the stove, rushing over before you burned your lunch.

After eating you settled on the couch beside the dog, figuring that you should give him a temporary name until he was found. It was easier and more respectful than simply calling him “dog.”
Running your fingers through his fur, lightly scratching his head, you pondered over names. You didn’t like cheesy pet names like “Fluffy” or “Spot.” You looked him over, taking in his calico pattern and mismatching eyes, thinking that he deserved something unique, or at least meaningful.
“I could name you Heath, after Heath Luck,” you mused, thinking of one of your favorite fictional characters. He looked up at you with a snort, not agreeing with your idea.
“How about Dervish? After Dervish Grady?”
He snorted again, resting his head in your lap.
“Fine. Mr. Zetes?”
He whimpered lightly, another disagreement. You sighed. “Fine. I’ll name you later.”
You turned on your TV and PS3, pressing buttons until the screen led you to Netflix. Flipping through your shows, you thought of more names. “Moriarty? Mitchell? Alonso? Anders?”
The dog snorted again, causing you to sigh once more. “You’re unreasonable, you know that?”
He barked in reply, stretching his head up to lick your cheek. You wiped the slobber from your face with the back of your hand, throwing a grimace to the canine in your lap. “Name yourself, then.”

You spent the entire day lounging around with your temporary pet, watching Netflix and snacking on various fruits that you had in your apartment. You’d fed him some scraps of lunch meat and chicken, since you didn’t have dog food.
Lying on your bed with the dog beside you, his head and front paws draped across your torso and your hand on his head, you looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.
“I wish I had a chance, Grubbs,” you sighed. You’d opted for giving him random names until he responded pleasantly. His head turned til his eyes met yours, deciding to ignore your name choices.
You looked at the wall. “He’ll never look twice at me, not that way. I’m a new agent with barely any experience. I can’t stack up to Maria or Natasha or anyone. I’m so stupid, falling for a co-worker.”
He nudged your jaw with his nose as if urging you to continue. You scratched behind his ears with a soft sigh. “It’s Agent Coulson,” you admitted. His ears seemed to perk up with interest, but you mused that it was just due to you scratching them.
“I know; hopeless, right? I don’t know how it happened but it did. He’s one of the nicest agents and he showed me the ropes when I started, making sure I knew all the protocols and guidelines. But he’d never look at me like that. I’m just a co-worker.”
The dog whimpered, nuzzling his head against your belly. Your hand ran down the back of his neck, smoothing out his fur. You fell asleep with Grubbs in your lap, your hand on his head.

You awoke the next morning to find yourself alone. Confused and worried for the dog, you rose from your bed and straightened your clothes, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to comb it. You sauntered down the hall, the dog nowhere to be found but a certain attractive agent sitting on your couch.
“Agent Coulson?” you greeted in surprise. “What are you doing here? Have you seen an Australian Shepherd around?”
“About that,” he replied, standing from his seat and walking towards you.
“What? Did you find his owner?” you asked, hoping that the dog was okay.
“Kind of,” he replied.
“Kind of?”
“He wasn’t exactly a dog,” Coulson stated, standing directly in front of you.
“What do you mean? How was he not a dog?” you wondered, undeniably confused.
“It was me,” he admitted.
You stuttered. “What?”
“We had a run in with a crazy scientist and he turned me into a dog,” he explained.
You looked down at your feet, embarrassment staining your face. “Well,” you said with a cough, stepping away from the agent. “Thanks for that. Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I told you and we can forget this ever happened.”
He stepped closer, resting a hand on your cheek. “I don’t want to forget about it.”
“Why not?” you asked, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Because I’ve fallen for you too,” he whispered, tilting your head up. His forehead rested on yours, holding your gaze.
“Really?”
His lips pressed to yours, his other hand reaching up to hold the other side of your face. You shyly rested your hands on his arms, holding them at the elbows.
“I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it’d be too forward,” he admitted. “I didn’t think it would be appropriate of me to flirt with the newest agent.”
“I thought I just didn’t have a chance,” you whispered.
He kissed you again with a soft smile. “You have all the chances you want.”
You smiled softly. “I love you, Grubbs.”
He groaned dramatically, kissing your nose. “What’s that even from?”
You giggled and tilted your head up to capture his lips.

Chapter Text

Every Breath, Every Hour Has Come to This
Request for QueenGrenecence

Your relationship with Maria had been progressing beautifully, never a dull moment between you. You’d had your ups and downs as every couple had, but the downs were easily fixed and the ups were fantastic. The entire team had supported and accepted your coupling, smiling softly and even throwing you both a party for coming out.
They all worried for your safety, dating a SHIELD agent and all. They had taken precautions to ensure your well-being, including Maria teaching you how to properly shoot and handle a gun and Clint giving you a few lessons in archery. You kept a compound bow and quiver of arrows by your bed along with the handgun in your nightstand and the dagger under your pillow. The gun and dagger followed you everywhere, the gun tucked into your fanny pack and the dagger concealed inside your knee-high boots. The team wanted to be sure that you could handle yourself if you were kidnapped or mugged and they weren’t able to assist you.

You had been with the agent for almost two years, and you’d been there for each other through everything. You’d been there whenever she argued with Fury and risked her job, leading to her venting to you about all the secrets she had to keep which often led to you cuddling her on the couch or in your bed (whichever was closest), your arms wrapped securely around her torso as her nose nuzzled your neck, her movie of choice playing on the TV and salty snacks spread across the coffee table. Your preferred comfort food was usually loaded with sugar and/or caffeine, and during your venting sessions you’d end up crying into her shoulder while she stroked your hair. That was the beauty of your relationship – you were always available when the other needed comfort.

Maria was away on a mission that you knew she’d been dreading. She had been faltering lately, having had too many arguments with Fury which distracted her from her assignments, leading to minor errors. She worried that she’d completely blow the mission and get fired. You knew that part of her wanted to be fired, to be free from this job of secrets and weaponry, but you knew she enjoyed her job at the same time.
You’d spent the night before with your arms around her torso, one hand rubbing soothing circles across her back and the other running its fingers through her hair. Her favorite movie had been playing on the TV in your room, lulling her to sleep as her arms wrapped limply around your waist, her head on your chest with your cleavage providing surrogate pillows.
You had roughly a week to finalize the details of your plan. You’d been to every jewelry store in the city, but none had the perfect piece. You began to wonder if it was a sign that you couldn’t find the right symbol of your love, but you quickly rid that thought from your mind. You explained your plans and your current plight to the team, and Pepper suggested a small individual shop run by a friend of hers. After writing down the address, you rushed out to the shop, hoping the strawberry blonde’s friend would have what you were looking for.
You spent an hour roaming the small store, oohing and awing over the one-of-a-kind pieces the lady sold. You talked to the store owner, hearing her story of how her mother always made unique jewelry and taught her the tricks, leading her to open a jewelry store where no two pieces were the same (except for earring pairs, of course). Forty-five minutes were spent by you gazing into the display case that sat beneath the counter, showcasing dozens of rings and necklaces. Your eyes soon settled on a small silver band, adorned with a blue topaz heart. The gem matched your beloved’s eyes, and you asked to see the ring up close. The shop owner obliged with a smile after you explained your intentions. She paid no mind to the fact that your beloved was the same gender. She smiled softly as you twirled the ring in your fingers, admiring the way the topaz sparkled.
“This one,” you decided with a nod. She pulled out the velvet box to house the ring, typing the price into her register. You quickly paid for the ring and slipped the box into your pocket, thanking the shop owner before making your way back to the apartment you shared with Maria.
You had asked the Avengers to be part of the event, disguising your plans as a birthday party for your girlfriend. They knew of your intentions, but Maria was due back the day before her birthday, so it made the perfect cover.
You’d decked out the apartment as you would for a child. You knew that the agent had a hard childhood, never being loved or accepted by her father, and you wanted to make amends as well as you could. You’d bought streamers in her favorite colors, draping them around the room along with a “Happy Birthday” banner which was hung against the back wall of the living room. You’d bought a handful of presents, weapons and clothes mostly, to lead up to the main event. You also spent the entire day before her return baking a cake of her favorite flavor, decorated with her favorite colors. Despite her hard and professional façade, you knew she appreciated a home-cooked meal and honest affection, which was also why you were planning to cook her favorite dinner for her birthday.

You awoke around ten the following morning. Maria usually returned relatively early from her missions, though she always went to headquarters to submit her report before coming home to you. While waiting for her return, you slipped into your brand new party dress, a flowy (f/c) number that clung loosely to your body, giving you room to move as you finalized the details for the party.
The rest of the team arrived shortly, all dressed up and each having brought a gift or a snack contribution. Natasha and Steve made small talk with you while you took the cake out of the fridge and fetched candles and a lighter from various drawers. Tony pouted at your decision to ban him from alcohol until the party officially began. Pepper rolled her eyes at his childishness, trying to distract him. Thor stared longingly at the cake that you were impaling with pastel wax sticks. Bruce and Clint were discussing something or another, not bothering anyone. Fury and Coulson arrived later, realizing that they’d never celebrated the agent’s birthday.
You were just putting dinner into the oven when you heard Maria’s rented SHIELD car pull up outside. “Guys, she’s here!”
You rushed to the front door and opened it before Maria could even pull out her key. She smiled tiredly, glad that you were awake and waiting for her.
“Why are you dressed up?” she inquired as she stepped forward, closing the door behind her.
“You’ll see. Close your eyes,” you instructed. She raised a brow before complying, placing her hands over her eyes for extra validity. Your hand rested on her lower back, leading her into the living room. As you reached up to pull her hands from her eyes, signaling that she could look, the entire team shouted “Happy birthday!” with bright smiles on their faces.
She turned to you, a soft expression grazing her features. “You did this?”
“Of course I did. You never let me celebrate your birthday,” you replied.
“And you were all in on it?” she inquired to the rest of the team. They each nodded and smiled in response. She turned and wrapped her arms around your waist in a grateful hug, holding you close. Your arms wrapped around her neck, pressing a kiss to her temple as you pulled away.
“Come on, food’s ready,” you told her as the oven dinged. You sauntered into the kitchen and opened the door, using potholders to pull the baking dish from inside.
“Oh, (y/n,)” she breathed. “You made dinner, too?”
You nodded with a smile, setting the dish on the stove so it could cool down. “How about we open presents while we wait for it to cool?”
“Presents!” Tony exclaimed excitedly. You led Maria to the living room, sitting on the couch and pulling her down beside you. They all offered her the gifts they had bought. Clint had bought her a new gun, Tony had created a gun to her preferred specifications, Pepper had bought her earrings, Natasha had bought her new shoes to go with the new uniform you’d made for her, Thor bought her a SHIELD pendant necklace, and Bruce had made her a custom utility belt.
“These are wonderful,” she smiled, placing the gifts in a pile on the coffee table.
“There’s one more,” you stated, moving to kneel on the floor beside her. She looked at you, her eyes quickly glancing to the rest of the team, who stood by with knowing smiles, before settling on you and the velvet box now in your hand.
“(y/n),” she whispered.
“Maria,” you began, “I am one-hundred-percent in love with you. I have been for years, even before we got together. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. I want to be with you forever, to keep you safe and be there when you need me.” You opened the box to reveal the blue topaz ring you’d bought, watching with a smile as her eyes lit up. “Maria Hill, will you marry me?”
Her hands cupped your face, pulling you into a loving kiss. Pulling away for a breath, she whispered, “Yes.”
The team “aww”ed as you slid the ring onto her finger, pulling her into another kiss.
“I hate to break up girl kissing,” Tony stated, “but let’s eat some cake!”

Chapter Text

Rescue Mission
Request for Shakespeare girl aka Kate Coulson
A/N: So this isn’t super romantic but there’s some flirting.

The warehouse was dark and damp and cold, and smelled like gunpowder and iron. You groaned as your consciousness returned, slowly lifting your head until it fell back, resting against the back of the chair you were sitting in. Your eyes fluttered before opening, looking up at the grey ceiling, squinting against the harsh light emanating from the bulb dangling above you. You were weak, you could tell that much, from how little control you had of your own body at the moment. You looked down at your lap to find your wrists tied to the arms of the chair and your ankles bound to the chair legs. A weak kick came from your right leg, making no progress or difference against your bindings. With another groan you closed your eyes, the bright light bringing on a thumping headache.
The steel door across the room from you creaked in protest as it was opened, the hinges in desperate need of oil before they rusted out of commission. You kept your head down, not wanting to face your captor.
“You sure you can get a word out of her?” a gruff voice inquired, laced with distrust.
“Yes,” a softer voice replied. “I was trained for interrogation.”
The gruff voice ‘hmph’ed before the door closed and heavy footsteps retreated, leaving you alone with the smaller, softer recruit.
“I don’t know anything,” you groaned, not wanting to deal with Hydra’s goons. “My job was to stand guard; my partner was the one retrieving information.”
“I don’t care what your job was,” he stated, moving to stand in front of you. “I’m here to get you out.”
You looked up, finding a rather friendly face, even if you didn’t recognize it. “Why?”
He knelt down before you, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Because I work for SHIELD, not Hydra.”
A soft gasp escaped your lips as you pulled back, uncomfortable with the close proximity. “SHIELD?”
He nodded. “The only way I could get you and your partner out of here was to blend in. I came with a team; we’re all posing as interrogators. My team is rescuing your partner and we’re going to get you both out.”
You stared at him, unsure of his honesty. Deciding that you didn’t really have a choice, you nodded. There were no windows in the steel room, leading you to believe that you were alone. You watched tiredly as he untied your bindings, wrapping his arms around your torso to lift you out of the chair. You leaned against him for a moment, regaining your balance. You had no idea how long you’d been in this room, bound to a chair, and your muscles were weak from sleep and food deprivation.
Your savior kept a professional face and a rather harsh grip on your arm as he led you down the hallway. You mused that he had to act like he was hurting you so Hydra wouldn’t find out he was a fake. Hydra soldiers eyed him warily as you continued walking, too tired to pretend to fight him.
“Why are you taking her out?” the gruff voice from earlier demanded.
“She is too weak,” your current captor replied. “She can’t speak. She can barely breathe. I’m taking her to a nicer room to interrogate her.”
“I didn’t know Hydra was recruiting such merciful soldiers,” the taller man sneered.
“Whatever gets the job done,” the other replied. The tall one snarled before moving on, leaving you two alone in the hall.
“That was believable,” you whispered weakly.
“It worked,” he said with a soft smile.

Sneaking past guards and hiding in shadows, your savior managed to sneak you outside into the light. You inhaled the fresh afternoon air, glad to be out of that stale grey room. A thought bubbled in your mind and you turned to your rescuer. “Where’s my partner?”
“This way,” he replied, leading you down the street a few blocks. Parked in an abandoned lot sat a small black car with tinted windows. He opened the backseat door for you to slide in, and you were surprised to find your partner alive and well in the backseat. Well, she was worse off than you were, but she was alive.
“Hill’s got the jet,” the driver said. “She’ll meet us at the rendezvous point. The jet would be a little conspicuous landing outside Hydra’s base.”
Your savior nodded, turning around to look at you and your partner. “You’re safe now. We’ll get back to base and patch you up.”
“What happened to you?” you asked your partner, checking her over. Her lip was busted and swollen and a cut marred her cheek. She looked even more exhausted than you felt.
“They knew I got into their systems,” she coughed. “They knew I found what we needed.” Her hand dove into her uniform pocket, fishing for a moment before pulling out a thumb drive. “I refused to tell, so they hit me. Our reinforcements came in before any real damage could be done.”
“I’m glad you’re alright,” you said with a soft smile. “I was worried.”
“What about you?” she inquired, noting your lack of injuries. “You got out alright.”
“Just starving and exhausted,” you admitted. “I guess they thought that making me weak would make me talk.”
“We’re almost to the jet,” the driver stated. “Agent Hill will take care of you two.”
“I find it interesting that we’ve never met,” you partner said. “We know Agent Hill but not you two.”
“Agent Cross,” the driver replied with a mock salute. (1)
“Agent Coulson,” your savior said.
“Coulson!” you replied in surprise. “Director Fury’s right-hand man?”
He nodded with a small smile.
“I can’t believe we didn’t recognize you,” your partner breathed.
“I don’t go out on the field much,” Coulson explained.

Once back at Headquarters, the medics set to dressing your partner’s wounds while you gave Fury your report. He congratulated Coulson and Cross for their successful rescue mission and you and your partner for retrieving the information before dismissing the lot of you.
You sat at a table after fetching yourself a bottle of water and an apple, still tired from being bound and starved. You all but inhaled the fruit, barely swallowing the bite in your mouth before taking another.
“Slow down before you choke yourself,” Coulson chuckled, taking a seat beside you. “I’m glad you’re alright.”
“I wanted to thank you,” you stated, tossing the apple core into a nearby trash bin. “You saved me.”
“Just doing my job,” he replied, though he couldn’t fight the grin that claimed his lips as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I hope we work together again,” you smiled softly before turning and leaving the room, a slight sway to your hips as you walked away.
He watched you leave. “I hope so.”

(1) I don’t watch Agents of SHIELD so I made one up.

Chapter Text

Bring Me To Life
Request for Japanese-Snap-Blossom

Gravel crunched beneath leather boots as (e/c) eyes scanned the area, ensuring that all droids had been destroyed or at least powered off. Booted feet walked tentatively through the remains of the city, eyes catching the silver gleam of Ultron pieces before gloved hands stuffed said pieces into a black bag.
Continuing your search for his remains, you stumbled upon what was left of his body, broken and smashed, dull and lifeless. Lying a few feet away from the head and torso sat the heart, which looked mechanically realistic. You snatched it and slipped it into the bag with the other pieces before kneeling down beside the fallen droid. Grasping his head, you turned it this way and that, assessing the damage. With a small “hmm” escaping your lips, you wrapped your arms around the torso before standing, pulling the body up with you. It was heavier than you imagined, but years of working on machines like this one had built up your arms, so carrying him wasn’t too much of a problem. Every small piece that had already been separated or fell off during your trek was stuffed into the black bag as you walked back to your apartment.

The living room was littered with tools, oils, and scraps of metal. You’d rented a one bedroom apartment, using the bedroom as your place of relaxation when you needed a break from your project. You weren’t big on having company over, so your kitchen was somewhat dirty, not having been swept or mopped in a few nights and there were a handful of dishes in the sink. You lived alone, so dirt and trash didn’t pile up very fast.
You dropped Ultron’s body on the couch, setting the black bag on the floor beside him before turning on your heel and heading to the kitchen. This was a big project and you wanted to get it done. Caffeine was required.
The coffee pot was still plugged in and lit up, reminding you that you’d forgotten to unplug it earlier that morning. You shrugged – strong coffee was even better. You poured yourself a cup and doctored it up to your tastes before carrying it out to the living room and setting it on the coffee table beside your tools. Grabbing the bottom of the black bags, you pulled your hands up to dump the contents onto the floor, letting you see all of the pieces you had to work with.
Using your mechanic skills, which began with your father teaching you how to fix his car and later yours, and blossomed into you experimenting with robots and other machines, you reassembled Ultron’s body, attaching any severed pieces and connecting all the wires. This particular machine fascinated you. It was so human but so robotic at the same time. You wondered if his intention was to be a “real boy.” Maybe he had a Pinocchio complex.
Once constructed, all you had to do was reconnect the “heart.” Leaving the chest plate open, you carefully set the piece inside and wired it up, watching in amazement as Ultron’s eyes lit up and the entire machine came back to life.
“Who are you?” he asked, trying to sit up. You helped him before grabbing the chest piece.
“(y/n),” you replied, setting the piece over his heart.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing you. If it weren’t for me, you’d be rubble in the streets right now.”
He remained quiet as you attached the chest piece, sitting back on your heels. “You’re done,” you told him.
“How difficult was it to reattach my heart?” he asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
You shrugged. “Not too difficult. The hard part was finding all of your pieces in the debris.”
“Why did you?”
You shrugged again, looking at your lap. “I wanted to.”
“Why?”
“You… you’re interesting.”
“Interesting?”
You nodded. “Set aside the fact that you went psycho and tried to destroy the human race, you’re an interesting creature. So I wanted to reconstruct you.”
“Do you do that a lot?”
You gestured to the rest of your living room and all of the pieces, tools, and oils scattered about. “It’s kind of my thing.”
“Fascinating,” he replied, looking around.
“Tell me,” you began, sitting on the couch beside the machine. “Why did you try to destroy us?”
“It is in my nature,” Ultron replied simply. “I have hated my father since my creation, and that has turned into hatred for all humans.”
“We’re not all bad,” you protested. “Some of us just want to live our lives.”
“You do not seem so bad,” he agreed with a slight nod.
You let an honored smile claim your lips. “So what are you going to do now that I’ve brought you back to life?”
He paused, turning to look at you. “You are going to show me how you ‘live your life’.”
“Am I?” you asked, honored smile turning amused.
He nodded. “If you do not mind.”
“I’d love to,” you replied. “But, you know, that would require you to stay here with me.”
“I would like that,” he admitted. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the cold metal of his forehead.
“What was that for?” he asked, confused.
“It’s a friendly gesture,” you shrugged. “I’ll teach you later.”
“I look forward to it.”

Chapter Text

Please Don’t Leave Me
Request for Joyce Rubiano

Fiery eyes slowly blinked open, a mouth groaning in pain as the body tried to move into a sitting position. Fiery eyes looked around the rubble and ruin, seeing fallen droids and scattered pieces of metal. Looking down at himself, a sigh of relief left the mouth upon realizing that the body was still intact.
Ultron sighed. He had lost the war, and the Avengers plus their two new pets had won. Struggling slightly, he stood and freed himself from the debris that held him down. He stumbled as he tried to walk, a few of his body parts dented and broken, waiting to fall off. He’d need some fixing up.
He began walking through the remains of the city, spotting a familiar patch of (h/c) hair lying on the ground. Stepping closer, he discovered that it was indeed you, unconscious amongst the debris. He knelt down beside your limp body, looking close enough to find that you were breathing. Sighing softly with relief, he lifted you in his arms, stumbling slightly as he still didn’t have all of his full strength back.

He carried you to the safehouse that he’d been using to formulate his plans, laying you down on the steel work table. He tilted his head curiously as he looked at you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. He hadn’t paid enough attention to humans to know how to wake you up without hurting you. Cautiously, he pressed his hand to your chest, wondering if the cold of his metal would startle your senses.
Plan A worked. You jumped awake, your body suddenly alert like the cold of his hand had flipped a switch. You sat up and looked around, groaning softly as the bruises along your back and side became evident and painful.
“Where am I?” you asked groggily. “Wha- Ultron?”
“Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” Ultron replied.
“What am I doing here?” you asked, panic rising. “What did you do?”
“Take it easy,” he warned, holding his hands up in surrender. “I saved you.”
“Saved me?”
“Yes, saved you. You were unconscious in the rubble outside and I brought you in before your body gave up.”
“Why?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
He hesitated before shrugging his shoulders. “I wanted to.” He walked around to take a seat on the chair that sat by the table, stumbling a bit as he did so. “And I need your help.”
“My help?”
He nodded. “You worked with Mr. Stark, yes?”
It was your turn to nod.
“You’ve helped him with his suits?”
You nodded again.
“So you can repair me?”
Looking him over, you took in the dents and cracks in his body, the metal in obvious need of repair. “I suppose so. What do I get for helping you?”
“What do you want?”
You hesitated. “We’ll get to that later.”

You had switched places, leaving you sitting in the chair and him lying on the work table. He offered small talk while you worked, though you weren’t sure what to say. He had just tried to destroy your planet and your race, after all. You weren’t sure he could be trusted.
Then again, he’d saved you. No, he’s saved you for his own personal gain. If he hadn’t been broken, and if he hadn’t known that you knew your way around a tool box, you’d still be lying unconscious in the debris.
But… he saved you…
Shaking your head softly, you pulled the welding mask over your face and lit the blow torch, melding the pieces of his leg back together. Sitting back, you pulled the mask off as the metal began to cool. “All done.”
“Thank you,” he stated sincerely. You hesitated in surprise.
“You’re welcome.”
“You know…” he began, sitting up and looking down at you. “I could give up my plan of creating a new world.”
“And why would you do that?” you asked cautiously. “You seemed pretty intent on destroying us.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” he insisted. “I’d like to keep you alive.”
“Just me?” you asked. “Or everyone?”
“I suppose I could spare everyone,” he said in a tone that went perfectly with an eye roll. “But mostly you.”
“Why me?”
“I like you.”
You stared up at him, (e/c) eyes boring into garnet orbs. You had to admit, despite his psychotic tendencies and overwhelming desire to destroy all humans, he was a fascinating machine. You wondered how he came to be.
“I like you, too,” you admitted. A small smile formed on his silver mouth.
“Stay with me,” he requested. “Stay here. You live by yourself, don’t you? Live with me instead.”
You looked around the safehouse. “Here?”
He nodded. “We can fix it up. Buy human things for you. We can be like… a family.”
You were strangely touched by the robot’s words. “I… I have a family. Out there somewhere. And I have a job!”
“You can still work and see your family,” Ultron replied, slightly hurt by your rejection. “I don’t want to cut you off from your world. I just want you to stay with me.”
“I could still visit everyone?” you asked.
He nodded.
“And I can still go to work?”
He nodded again.
You nibbled your lip in thought before looking back up at him. “I’d love to stay with you.”

Chapter Text

She Waits For Me
Request for Neko Yetta
A/N: I sorry it’s sad.

A strangled groan escaped his lungs as the Star Spangled Man assisted him to the hospital wing of the Helicarrier. He had resisted the help at first, insisting that he could stand on his own. He then attempted to stand on his own and promptly fell on his face, leading him to accept the soldier’s offer.
“What happened?” the nurse, you, asked in surprise. Never had you seen the Director so injured.
“Hydra,” Steve replied, setting the grumbling man on the hospital bed. “They attacked the car. Almost killed him.”
“Damn,” you breathed, plugging in his heart monitor and cutting open his shirt to see his wounds. Stab wounds and broken glass littered his torso and he was losing consciousness.
You called for a few more nurses to assist you, putting the director under anesthesia before sanitizing and stitching.

Hours later, you were done, and a few more hours later, he awoke. He asked to see you specifically after Steve had gone in to visit. Steve offered you a small smile, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.
“You called for me?” you asked as you entered the room. “Are the pain killers wearing off?”
“Pain killers are fine,” he grunted in reply, struggling to sit up on his own. You lurched forward immediately, wrapping your arms around his to help him. A blush stained your face as you backed away, embarrassed by your outburst.
“Sorry,” you giggled nervously. “Habit.”
He smiled softly. “You did a great job stitching me up.”
“It is my job,” you replied nonchalantly.
“What do you do in your free time?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’d like to take you to dinner as soon as I get out of here.”
“You can leave tomorrow, and I get off at eight.”

The following night’s date, which consisted of him in his finest suit, you in a beautiful (f/c) dress, and your favorite restaurant in the city, lead to another date, which led to a full blown relationship. You went out on as many dates as your jobs would allow.
After you’d been dating for about a year, you went on a moonlit walk through the park. Cheesy, sure, but you lived in a secluded neighborhood and cheesy romance was your favorite kind. It had been Nick’s idea, even, knowing your love of night time and the neighborhood park.
He’d brought a blanket and laid it out on the grassy field, sitting on it before gesturing for you to join him. You smiled at the invite and complied, leaning into his side. His arm wrapped around your waist and your head rested on his shoulder while he leaned back until you were both lying down. You snuggled into his chest, draping your arm across his torso and closing your eyes.
“(y/n)?” he whispered gently, catching your attention. You looked up at him through tired eyes. He sat up gently, pulling you up with him despite your protests. You shivered slightly, a breeze blowing through the air and reminding you that you’d forgotten a jacket. He shook his off and draped it around your shoulders, causing you to smile.
He then turned to face you, holding your hands in his. “I’m not a very expressive man, but I have to say that you make me feel more emotions than I knew I had. I love you, and I want to be with you forever.” One hand left yours, sliding into his pocket. Withdrawing his hand, he revealed a box, and your eyes widened slightly. He opened the box with the same hand and inside sat a small diamond ring sitting atop a silver band.
“Nick…” you breathed, your free hand reaching up to cover your mouth.
“Marry me?” he requested gently, taking the ring out of the box. You nodded vigorously, not trusting your voice. He smiled and held your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger. He leaned forward and captured your lips, your hands resting on his shoulders while his wrapped around your waist.

The wedding was small and intimate, consisting of the Avengers and SHIELD members as well as a few of your outsider friends. It was held in the backyard of your house, your rosebushes conveniently in full bloom and white lacy ribbons draped around the trees and fence. You wore a simple white strapless dress, snuggly hugging your bust and flowing out from your hips. It dragged behind you just a touch and the bust was adorned with a layer of golden beads. In your hands you held a bouquet of lilacs, Casablanca lilies, and yellow tulips. (1)
Phil Coulson had gotten his ordination, allowing him to perform the ceremony. You and Nick wanted to keep it small and sweet. Rather than Phil recite the vows for you to accept, you and Nick recited them yourselves. To have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, and the like. Nick then wrapped his arms around your waist, tilting you back slightly as he pressed his lips to yours. You giggled at his enthusiasm as the crowds cheered, throwing day lilies at you. (2)

Things took a turn for the worst, as they often do. A cancer built up inside your body, claiming your bones and organs and muscles and blood stream until you were too weak to rise from your bed. Nick brought in the best of the best doctors, including Bruce, but no one could diagnose how you caught the cancer or even what type of cancer it was. You underwent chemo, by your own decision, and slowly wasted away. Nick sat by your bed through it all, reluctant to leave your side in case your body chose that moment to give up. The others had to pry him out of his seat to get him to sustenance, which they often had to bring to him instead.
He had just finished breakfast and was in the middle of a conversation with you when your eyes fluttered closed and your heart monitor flatlined. Tears streamed down his face until his eyes dried up, running out of juice. His hand never left yours, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as though he was comforting you while you slept, waiting for you to wake up.
The entire team set up your funeral and wake, comforting the Director as best they could. He became reserved and receded into himself, his only emotions being anger and depression. His depression was hidden, saving his tears and wallowing for when he was in the privacy of his house, away from the team. His anger was visible whenever he was in public. It was easier for him.

So when the Avengers were assisting him in packing up your shared house, because he just couldn’t handle living in so many reminders, and they stumbled upon your relationship photo album… he growled angrily and told them to stop snooping.
And he visited your grave every day, leaving a new bouquet of forget-me-nots and red and white roses. (3)

(1) So I got mushy and this is something I do when I write stories that aren’t fanfiction. I look up name meanings to find the right name to suit the character I’m making, so here I looked up what certain flowers mean and found that lilacs represent first love, Casablanca lilies represent celebration, and yellow tulips mean “hopelessly in love.” Of course red roses are the symbol of love but that’s a bit cheesy and overdone.
(2) They represent enthusiasm.
(3) Forget-me-nots live up to their name and red and white roses together represent unity.

Chapter Text

Mockingbird
Request for Shyama
A/N: Father/daughter story.
Shorter shot. There wasn’t really a plot to follow, just a story about you being Nick’s weakness.

Nick Fury was a hard man. Years of working for and with SHIELD had made him so. He was frightening and temperamental; a man on whose bad side nobody wanted to be. He made a great leader with his independent leader personality. His agents respected him enough to follow his orders and the Avengers knew better than to directly disobey. He had worked hard and earned his position at the top.
But they say that everyone has a soft spot, and you were Nick’s.
As his adopted daughter, you were the most important thing in his life. Your mother had been the love of his life, and though he had been nervous and skeptical upon finding out that she already had a child, you’d become his favorite little girl. He was hesitant to play Daddy to a young child, unsure if he could handle it and not wanting to step on any toes since you weren’t his, but within months of his relationship with your mother, you’d begun to call him “Daddy” and never wanted him to leave. You were more than ecstatic when they finally married, opting for you to be the flower girl at eight years old. Fury then left his one bedroom apartment and moved into your family home with you and all of your pets.

Your mother’s death hit both you and Nick very hard and very fast. She had run to the store, leaving you and your new stepdad at home to play and watch movies. It was a quick run for some milk and sugar so the three of you could make cookies that night after dinner.
You were watching the news when it happened. After convincing Nick to explain to you what he did for a living, and your now nine year old self barely understanding, he’d convinced you to watch the news with him.
“The news tells us when bad people are out doing bad things,” Nick had explained. “Then I know I have a job to do.”
You proceeded to believe he was a superhero.
So here you sat, watching the afternoon news with Nick. Your mom had only been gone for an hour or two when you saw a very familiar, albeit smashed all to Hell, car on the screen. Your eyes widened in fear as you turned to look at Nick, waiting for him to tell you that it was okay and not your mother’s car.
His eyes were glued to the screen until they showed the remains of the driver, the very familiar mop of (m/h/c) hair and (s/c) skin. Tears filled his one good eye as he ducked his head, hands balled into fists.
“Nick?” you asked gently. “Was that… was that Mommy?”
The way your voice broke as you said her name broke his heart, and he reached out to pull you into his arms. You knew immediately that your mother was gone, and tears came flooding out of your eyes and into his shirt.

Nick got some of his SHIELD friends to help arrange her funeral, following her will exactly. They all attended for moral support, wanting to comfort their boss and his new daughter.
As your official stepdad and since your birth father was dead, Nick had legal rights to your guardianship. He filed the adoption papers, asking if you wanted to keep your last name or take his. After a moment of thinking, you opted to take his, “Just like Mommy did.”
He raised you from then on, keeping a watchful eye on your safety. He had an agent stay with you when he would have to go away on mission, especially if he were to be gone more than a couple of hours. He tried to keep your information out of the system, lowering the chance of his enemies getting a hold of it. You hadn’t even met anyone on the team, save for a couple of agents hired for babysitting jobs.
Before too long, threats came in to SHIELD headquarters, informing Nick that his enemies knew about you. Concerned for your safety, he began bringing you along when he had paperwork to do or missions to assign. He made sure you were left with his best agents when he himself had to go on assignment; otherwise, you never left his sight.
The whole team loved you. You were almost twelve when you met the Avengers, and no one knew how much they all liked kids. Tony took it upon himself to spoil you rotten with tech toys, offering you a new gift every week. Bruce showed you kid-friendly science procedures after you told him how fascinating it was to watch beakers bubble over. Steve watched Disney movies with you, serving as a part-time babysitter. Thor would play Midgardian games such as Sorry and Uno with you, though he didn’t fully understand. Natasha would occasionally cook for you, sharing a lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup. Clint made you your own personal bow and taught you enough archery to defend yourself from afar. Agents Hill and Coulson took a liking to you as well. They also offered to babysit when Fury was away as long as they had no pressing affairs to attend to.

Nick Fury was a hard man. But he would always ensure that his little girl was taken care of.

Chapter Text

She Will Be Loved
Request for Serena Valdez
A/N: Co-written by ViolinFire14. She wrote most of it and I edited it.

“Are you ready?” Bruce asked for the umpteenth time.
“Yes, Bruce,” you replied with an irritable sigh.
“He can be a little intimidating,” your brother warned.
“Bruce, I’ll be fine,” you insisted. “I’m not afraid of a half-blind man with a gun.”
Bruce gave you a sideways glance before knocking on the door to Director Fury’s office.
“Enter.” Without hesitation, you entered the office alongside your brother.
“Dr. Banner, what can I do for you?”
“Director Fury, this is my sister-”
“Bruce, I can speak for myself. My name is (y/n), and I am interested in joining S.H.I.E.L.D,” you stated confidently.
The director leaned forward in his chair slightly, seeming to observe you carefully, as if figuring out your intentions.
“And why is that?” he challenged.
“I have heard about S.H.I.E.L.D, and I find your sort of work interesting,” you said truthfully.
“Alright. Consider yourself a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. Welcome to the team, Agent Banner.”
Your brother glanced at you and the director. He didn't usually accept people onto the team as quickly as that, as he always conducts background checks first. But Bruce decided to shrug it off for now.

You conducted your training with Agent Coulson, and sometimes other agents such as Hill and Romanoff. You often did combat training, weapons training and learned many new battle strategies. The Director watched over your progress, and was pleased with how quickly you were learning things. The moment he met you, he could see something there, and he just knew you would make a great addition to the team. Soon, you were ready to go on missions.

Fury insisted that you live at the tower with your brother since your training was now complete. You listened to him of course, with great reluctance. You and you brother hadn't spoken in years, since the accident that changed him. You used to be close when you were both younger, and perhaps this was the opportunity to make that happen again, become closer.

Shortly after you had moved in, Fury sent you on your first mission with the Avengers. Your task was to locate and infiltrate the HYDRA base, once it was found. It was fairly easy to locate it, but you all had to watch the people entering and exiting it, to get an idea of security levels and routines.

You spent a few days there, each taking turns at watch and reporting to Fury what you had observed. In no time at all, it was time to take down the base. It was very successful, but the boring part to come, was the debriefing.
What happened at the debriefing, you didn't expect at all. He held you back after the meeting, and you soon found yourself having a long conversation with Fury about anything and everything. It lasted for a few hours, and could have gone on longer, if Bruce hadn't come to drag you back to the Tower.

After your intriguing chat with Fury, you couldn't stop thinking about him; you couldn't help but wish to know more about him, and spend more time with him.

It was weeks before you saw him again. And when you did, you had to fight to hold back your excitement, which Bruce being Bruce, noticed almost instantly. Fury however, didn't seem to notice.
He had called you and Bruce to go on a mission together to go stop an assassin who was heading towards the Northern part of New York. The mission was simple, and didn't require the rest of the Avengers. It made your brother open up to you a bit about the other guy, and you just enjoyed conversing with him instead of fighting.

When you returned, Fury spoke with you both briefly before dismissing Bruce. He asked if you would like to grab a coffee with him, and you accepted.
After that, you seemed to be meeting up with Fury more and more often - and not just at coffee shops. He occasionally dropped by the tower to talk to you, which was unusual for the Avengers, but they soon got used to it.

Over the coming months, you both became best friends. He told you about how he got his eye patch and gave you an insight into what war was like. You told him about your relationship with your brother, and what it used to be like. He listened to you intently, genuinely curious to know more, and he was always there to comfort you when upset about the accident your brother had to go through. He knew you hated to see people suffer, and he understood that the radiation accident has also had an impact on you, not just Bruce.
As you got closer to Fury, your feelings for him developed, and you found that you wanted more with him. You wanted something to happen between you, but you kept that hidden from him.

Your brother kept a close eye on you, and eventually saw that you had feelings for the Director. Natasha was one of the first to also notice this, and soon the whole team found out. They would often tease you about it, but promised to keep it a secret after many threats from you. In fact, although they kept their promise, Fury still ended up finding out.

You were in the kitchen one morning making breakfast. Bruce, Natasha, Steve, and Clint were with you, whilst Tony was in his lab and Thor was back in Asgard. Once again, Clint and Bruce had decided to tease you about your feelings for Fury. What none of you noticed was that Fury was on his way to the kitchen, where you guys were.
“Do you know what guys?” You asked, causing the conversation to take a serious turn.
“What, (y/n)?” Clint asked.
“Perhaps Fury will never return my feelings. I certainly don't think he will,” you said solemnly.
“(Y/n), you don't know that. Perhaps he does-” you interrupted your brother and ignored his attempt at consoling you. You carried on with your speech.
“I love Fury, but yet, I don't want to lose what we already do have. I don't want to lose his friendship, and if it means I have to hide what I feel, then I am more than willing to do so.”
The boys fell silent and you wondered why. You realized that they were no longer looking at you, but at something behind you. You turned around, and saw the very man you were talking about staring intently at you.
“How much of that did you hear?” you asked him.
“I heard enough,” was all he said.
You continued to stare at him, the atmosphere becoming tense with each moment that passed. You suddenly turned, and walked briskly to the elevator, asking Jarvis to take you to your floor. You had to get out of there.
Your movement caused the tension to falter. Bruce and Clint looked at each other briefly. When they saw that Fury hadn't moved, they gestured to him that he should go after you. He promptly left, determined to find you.
When you reached your room, you let the tears fall. You were extremely embarrassed. And the way Nick had just stood there looking at you had made you feel even more uncomfortable. He had seemed shocked, and perhaps even disgusted.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by a loud knock on your door. You ignored it, wanting to be left alone. The second knock was more insistent, so you wiped away the tears to send off whoever was there. You opened the door; Nick was there. He locked his gaze with yours, silently asking if he could come in. You made a gesture to signal that he could.
“Nick, please. I don't want to hear it. I already know what you are going to say. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, please just forget about it and-” He cut you off with a hard kiss to your lips.
You were stunned into silence, and it took you a moment to respond. Your lips fit perfectly against his and moved together as one. He broke the kiss as a need for air came. He held your face in his hands and looked directly into your eyes.
“(Y/n), I love you. I don't want you to ever doubt that. I didn't say anything because I was afraid, for the same reasons as yourself. When I heard you say that in the kitchen, I just couldn't believe what I had heard.”
“I love you too, Nick.”
With that, you both settled on your bed, holding each other close.

Chapter Text

We Are Who We Are
Request for KayRay
A/N: Co-written by Hawkeye’s Little Blossom.

Thirty years. Thirty years you had hidden your secret, and for thirty years guilt ripped you.
Why?
You had been hiding the fact you were Red Skull's great granddaughter. What made it worse was that you worked at SHIELD –
Hydra's greatest enemy.
You felt afraid that one day you would slip up to your girlfriend, deputy director Maria Hill, whom you had been with coming up a year. You knew one day you'd have to break it to her, but it frightened you. What if she broke up with you? What if she made SHIELD place an official arrest on you? What if... you were killed?
Such fears were why you never spoke about your secret.

It was a regular day at SHIELD headquarters, or at least you thought so. You were scanning security on your work computer when several red flashing dots came up on the screen. Frowning, you called for Maria who was there instantly.
"What is it, love?" Maria asked, placing her hands on your shoulders.
"These red dots," you pointed. "What do they mean?"
Maria went oddly pale, before quickly talking into her earpiece. You picked up the words "Hydra,” “threat,” and “agents" and it was your turn to go pale.
"(Y/N), can you cover the north side with me?" Maria asked, her blue eyes gazing deep into your (e/c) ones. You nodded briskly, grabbing your loaded gun and daggers from your desk and following Maria. You got halfway to your destination before a small, circular bomb rolled across the floor, stopping at Maria's feet.
"Grenade!" you cried, jumping out the way and trying to pull Maria, but to no avail. The grenade exploded and Maria fell to the floor, blood splattered across her body.
You fell to your knees beside her.
"No! No, no, no, no! Maria!" you gasped, trying to stop her bleeding. Maria placed a finger on your lips
"I’m sorry. It’s time for me to go, but listen. I want you to keep being my truthful, honest girl. I love you so much."
Guilt bit you when she said honest and truthful. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you kissed her on the head.
"I love you too," you replied as her eyes fluttered closed.
Revenge. You wanted revenge.

A few months later, you received word from Steve that Director Fury had also been taken down. You were less emotional over his death, as the man frightened you, but you had grown to respect him as a leader. You accompanied Steve and Natasha in attending his funeral, but as you were lead through what appeared to be a government hospital, your confusion grew.
Where the Hell were you going?
“He’s awake,” a woman in nurse scrubs informed Natasha, who nodded in reply. She led you into a room where a very much alive, and very much injured, Fury was resting in a bed.
“Sir?” Steve greeted, tilting his head. “We were informed that you were dead.”
“I had to tell you that,” he replied, grunting as he tried to sit up. “Hydra would have sent more men after us if they knew I survived.”
Hydra. The name left a growl in your throat and a bad taste in your mouth.
A small smirk settled on Fury’s lips at your expression. “Agent (l/n), there’s a surprise for you.”
“Sir?” you countered, brows furrowing in confusion. The rustling of a curtain was heard as a nurse poked her head out.
“(y/n)? Could you follow me?”
You nodded and slowly made your way to her, following her behind the curtain. She led you to another hospital bed where a very familiar woman lay resting.
“Maria!” you gasped, running over to her. She smiled and held out an arm, pulling you into a hug. She scooted over, making room for you. You wasted no time in climbing into her bed.
“How could you let me think you were dead for three months?” you demanded, hurt taking over your features.
She hung her head at your expression. “I had to, to keep you safe. Director Fury and I had to ‘die’ so Hydra would stop attacking.”
You snuggled into her side, noticing the bandages wrapped up and down her arm. “I can’t handle the feeling of you not being there anymore.”
She pressed a kiss to your head. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”
Your eyes narrowed to slits as Maria hesitated.
"But the agents are still out there. I want you, Nat and Steve to go after them," she said, taking your hand and staring deep into your eyes.
"I don't want to leave you," you sighed. Maria stared at you and you finally got the message. Pressing a kiss to her temple, you left and found Steve and Nat standing waiting.
"You got the same orders then?" you asked, placing a hand on your hip.
"There's no time to lose, come on," Steve said impatiently, taking your wrist and pulling you to his car, Natasha following.

You rolled your eyes.
"Really, Steve? Robbing your own shrine museum just to fight in a Cap costume? I can feel the freedom intensifying," you laughed. Nat and Steve cracked a smile, before looking behind you. The agents were already coming forward.
"You know the plan. Time to work for a living," Nat grinned, before running off into the midst of agents. You had a small swarm coming at you, so from your pocket you pulled the small gun Maria made you carry, firing bullet after bullet, watching each agent fall to the ground. You even managed to fight a few weaponless, and attack a few from behind. One difficult agent pulled out their gun.
"Yeah, not today," you grinned, kicking the metal from their hand and punching them in the jaw. The agent staggered back, clutching his jaw, before coming back at you. You tripped him before pointing a gun at him. He gestured to someone and an agent attacked you from behind, holding you round the neck and pointing a dagger at you. Another agent sauntered up – you recognized him as Alexander Pierce. Nat and Steve approached cautiously.
"Well I never. All these years everyone thought you dead," Alexander grinned. Your breathing got heavier. Did he mean...?
"Red Skull's great granddaughter. Nobody thought you made it," Alexander grinned. Steve's eyes widened. The guys arm tightened around your neck, making it hard for you to breathe.
"(Y/N)… is it true?" Steve asked. You nodded miserably.
"Aw, cute. She's been hiding her dainty little secret from you all along," Alexander laughed. The agent released you and Nat lunged at him, killing him as you fell to the ground coughing. Alexander walked over, pulling your head up.
"Hail Hy-"
He was cut off as a dagger hit him, and he fell.
"Let’s get her back to Maria and Fury. She can... Tell them what we learned..." Steve muttered, picking you up and carrying you.

“(y/n)!” Maria cried worriedly as she watched Steve carry your limp body inside. “Tell me she isn’t…”
“She’s fine,” Natasha reassured her. “She just has some personal history with Hydra.”
“What do you mean?” Maria asked.
“You didn’t know?” Steve inquired.
“Know what?!” Fury demanded.
You coughed, signaling to the group that you were waking up. You saw four sets of concerned, intrigued, and slightly betrayed eyes watching you. You looked down at your lap as you sat up.
“Do you want to tell them or should we?” Nat asked.
You sighed. “My great grandfather… is Red Skull.”
Maria’s eyes widened while Fury’s narrowed.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Maria asked gently.
“How could you keep that from us?” Fury demanded. “That’s a very important piece of information.”
“I didn’t want it to change anything,” you admitted. “I’m not my great grandfather. I’ve never been on Hydra’s side. I just wanted a chance to be part of SHIELD, to take Hydra down. I knew that if anyone found out, I wouldn’t have a chance. I’d be taken out, too.”
Surprising the other three, Maria wrapped her arms around you. You were surprised too, looking up at her with confusion in your eyes.
She looked around at her fellow agents and Director. “She’s on our side. She always has been. Yes, her great grandfather is a powerful enemy, but he’s gone. We took him out already. And as she said, she’s not him. She doesn’t like Hydra. She just wanted a chance to start over.”
You nodded, tears welling up behind your eyes. You buried your face in her chest, waiting for the shouts of “How could you” and “You can’t be an agent anymore.”
But none of it came. Instead you felt a firm hand on your shoulder and a softer one on your back. Turning your head, you saw Steve and Nat smiling softly at you, accepting. You turned your attention to Fury who was looking at his lap, eyes hard. You gulped softly. Was this it?
“How many agents did you fight?” he asked in reference to your last mission.
“All of them, sir,” you replied.
“Anyone important?”
“Alexander Pierce.”
He nodded curtly. “Good job, Agent (l/n).”
“I’m still an agent?” you asked, relieved.
“Agent Hill was right. You’ve always been on our side. I see no reason to fire such a hard working agent.”
“Thank you, sir.”

Another week and Maria was all healed and ready to go home. You headed back to your shared apartment, intent on spending your day off relaxing together.
You lied down on the couch, head resting against the arm and head turned towards the TV. She laid down on you, her head on your chest and her arms at your sides. Flipping through the channels, you settled on Princess Bride. It had been your favorite for years, and it had been the subject of your first date with Maria.
You ran your fingers through her hair, lulling her to sleep as the movie went on. You smiled at her, pressing a kiss to your head, before falling asleep yourself.

Chapter Text

High School Crush
Request for Madness

It was amazing how easy it was to conceal your inner super and lead on a normal life. You’d managed twelve years of public school and real friends, sleepovers and sharing lunches. No one suspected a thing.
You’d even had crushes and boyfriends. None of them had worked out – either they didn’t share your feelings, or they were too immature for a high school relationship. You shrugged off every rejection and breakup, telling yourself that your guy was out there, and for now, you’d focus on your friends, your schoolwork, and graduation.
You developed a crush on a certain snarky brunette, with whom you shared almost every class. You were certain he had a thing for Gwen Stacey, the most beautiful girl in school, but that didn’t stop you from being his friend.
You tried to ignore this growing crush, reminding yourself to focus on school and your secret life of helping innocent bystanders, and to not let yourself get distracted by a cute boy. But your hormones ignored your logical brain, and the next thing you knew, you found yourself volunteering to be Peter Parker’s lab partner when the teacher informed the class that Gwen Stacey was out sick.
You suppressed a dance of joy that Gwen was temporarily out of the way and sauntered over to your friend’s desk.
“Sorry about Gwen,” you said half-heartedly. It was awful that she was sick, but you were reaping in the benefits. “I know you always choose her to be your partner.”
“Hm?” he replied distractedly. He turned to look at you and cracked a smile. “Oh, yeah. It’s probably just the flu.”
You nodded, reminding yourself to be supportive. After all, you were his friend, and his happiness meant more to you than whether or not he returned your crush.

Weeks passed without an update on Gwen, leaving you to finish out the year as Peter’s partner. You couldn’t complain, though you were concerned about the girl’s apparent disappearance.
You and Peter had grown closer. You liked to think you were great friends, as you spent all of your class time and spare time talking and laughing. You talked about anything and everything, from favorite foods to family life. You knew everything about each other. But while you were happy with this development, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had a chance of being more than his friend.
You often wondered if you should come clean. You had superpowers that no one knew about, because no one understood. Your parents understood, for the most part, and they helped you keep it a secret. But it was exhausting hiding half of yourself from everyone. And if you were trying to be more than friends with Peter, shouldn’t you let him in?
But what if he thought you were a freak? What if it ruined your chances forever? He didn’t seem like the judgmental type, but maybe there was more to him than you knew.

You owed your life to Spiderman. When the Green Goblin went on a rampage, you were thrown off a building. You didn’t know why the Goblin chose you as a hostage to get Spiderman’s attention – did he know something you didn’t?
When Spiderman refused to hand New York City over to the Goblin, he let go of your arm and let you fall from the roof of a twenty story building. Spiderman reacted in time and shot webs beneath you, creating a hammock for you to fall on.
When the fight was over and Green Goblin was no more, a large jet landed on the concrete and a dark-skinned man in a black trench coat stepped out. He greeted Spiderman with a nod before turning to you.
“Are you (y/n) (l/n)?” he asked.
You quirked a brow. “Yes. Who are you?”
He offered a hand. “Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. I’m here to recruit the both of you.”
“Recruit us for what?” you asked.
Spiderman looked at you and then at Fury. “Why her?”
“She’s a rogue super we’ve been looking for. They call her the Siren,” Fury explained.
“The Siren? Why?”
“I have powers of telepathy and persuasion,” you replied. “I can kind of make the bad guys do whatever I want.”
“Not to be rude, but why weren’t you doing that to the Goblin?”
“I was a little busy being his hostage. Why did he take me, anyway?”
If Spidy hadn’t been wearing his mask, his blush would be as dark as his suit.
“Enough with the questions,” Fury said, cutting you off. “Follow me.”

He took you both back to SHIELD headquarters and introduced you to all of the agents and the Avengers. He explained that you would be Avengers-in-training, and that you’d each be assigned to an Avenger.
You often trained together. You were assigned to Natasha and Peter to Clint. Natasha was the obvious choice being the only female on the team. She’d be able to teach you how to move like an assassin with a female body. You’d explained your powers to her, but you had to get relatively close to the enemy to use them. You tried them on her to test distances, and she showed you how to slink around without getting caught.
Clint had similar training techniques. While he specialized in long-range attacks with his bow, he and Natasha were trained together in hand-to-hand combat. Clint taught Peter how to sharpen his web-shooting when aiming at moving targets, as well as moving around like an assassin. It would help him dodge enemy attacks while shooting them.

One afternoon, you and Peter were to spar on your own to see how your progress was developing. You had a slight advantage as you could control him when he went to sling web at you, but your crush on him would let your mind wander and lower your guard. He’d hit you with his web a few times, but you’d managed to control him for a few moments.
“You two have done well,” Natasha praised. “You’re done for the day. Good job.”
With that, she and Clint left you two alone.
You smiled softly at Peter, panting softly. You’d done a lot of running and jumping around during your sparring match.
“How long have you had your powers?” he asked, sitting on the bench.
“Forever, I guess,” you replied, sitting beside him. “I noticed them when I was little, and I spent most of my teens trying to control them.”
“They’re really cool,” he smiled.
You blushed lightly. “I can’t believe I never realized you were Spiderman.”
He laughed. “I tried to keep it that way.”
A soft silence fell over you two as you fiddled with your fingernails. You wondered if you should make a move or just go back to your room.
A soft hand was placed on your cheek, turning your head. You looked up to meet Peter’s eyes. Without making a sound, he leaned in, eyes fluttering closed. Your own eyes fell closed as he closed the gap between you. You melted against him with a soft sigh, leaning against his chest. His hand snaked to the back of your head and tangled in your hair. You responded to the kiss and placed a hand on his chest.
He pulled away with a smile and looked at you. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time?”
“Really?” you responded softly.
“Since the beginning of the year.”
You gently hit his arm.
“Ow!” he whined. “What was that for?”
“I’ve had a crush on you for two years. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I thought you were with Gwen…”
“She was always just a friend. She was actually pushing me to ask you out but I was too scared.”
“The Great Spiderman, scared of asking a girl out?” you teased.
He laughed and kissed your head. “I thought you’d say no.”
“Well you’re stuck with me now,” you said, sticking your tongue out.
He kissed your lips, resting a hand on your cheek. “Be my girlfriend?”
You grinned. “Of course.”

Chapter Text

You’ll Help Put Me Back Together
Request for Stitched Up Smiles

You’d made quite a name for yourself as the town’s mechanic. Business was slow when you first opened your shop out of your own garage, but after fixing a few cars until they worked better than when they were brand new, everyone wanted to come to you for mechanical needs. You eventually opened a proper shop just a block away from your home, accepting cars, trucks, and motorbikes alike.
After the battle with Ultron, business was overflowing. Many citizens lost everything, including their cars. Most of the city was left in irreparable shambles. Those few, including yourself, whose car had enough left to fix came to you for help. You felt bad charging them after all they’d been through, but you needed to make a living too, so you only charged half price.
When you finally caught a break, you decided to take a walk through town and see what was left. Buildings were demolished, cars were overturned, bodies littered the streets. It was depressing to see a once grand, beautiful city reduced to rubble and ruin.
Your leather work boots crunched softly against the gravel. You then cringed upon realizing that it was not proper gravel but crumbles of pavement and building. You let out a sigh, half tempted to book it to another town and start your life over. But people had come to depend on you and your garage, and you’d gotten to know many of your customers. You couldn‘t just abandon them.
As you stepped around larger chunks of debris and carefully avoided the bodies, a shimmer of silver caught your eye. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was a piece of Ultron’s metal body. You slowed your steps in case the wires were still active. Everyone with television or internet knew that the Avengers had defeated Ultron and his army, but that didn’t mean there weren’t live wires inside the severed pieces.
The angry red light that was illuminated his eyes was dead, leaving dull glass covers behind. You reached down to brush your fingers against the severed head, picking it up when no light or sound responded. You turned it over in your hands, inspecting the damage and the internal wiring. It intrigued you to know how his pieces fit together. Tucking the head under your arm, you decided to scavenge the remains of the city in search of more pieces.

You managed to recover all of the large, important pieces. Returning to your garage, you made sure to turn the sign to “Closed” and close the blinds, leaving you alone with the remains. You placed the fragments on the work table, aligning them in their correct places. His head sat at one end, followed by most of a torso piece. On either side were chunks of arms and hands, though one hand was missing a couple of fingers. Following that was a large chunk that served as his hip area, along with thigh pieces. One lower leg was severely dented, and there was a chunk missing from the opposite foot. Most of the wires seemed reconnect-able, and you had some extra scrap metal from when you decided to build yourself a car, so you were sure you could reconstruct him.
But why did you want to? This creature destroyed the entire city, killed innocent people, wrecked lives. Why would you want to bring him back?
It was a sense of pride to know you had the skill to put him back together. You weren’t too focused on turning the machine back on, but if you could reconstruct it, that was an accomplishment. Perhaps you could rewire him, make him into your own personal robot. He could be a helpful creation instead of a destructive monster.
And so you slipped a pair of safety goggles over your eyes and leather gloves on your hands, picking up a few tools and setting the pieces back together.

It took all day, but you managed to reconnect all the fragments. You weren’t worried about the dents that littered his metal body, but you use your scrap metal to replace the chunks missing out of his arms and legs. You didn’t want those wires to be exposed – too easy to get wet or sliced.
You took a step back and let out a soft sigh, partially out of relief that it was done, and partially out of pride that you did it. You had to jump back when a soft whirring sound began and the fingers twitched. The eyes lit up and a soft groan came from the chest piece. You watched in amazement and slight horror as Ultron sat up on the work table, looking around groggily.
“Where am I?” he asked lowly.
“In my garage,” you replied cautiously. “How are you alive right now? I didn’t configure the wires yet.”
“You’ve done an amazing job,” he complimented, surprising you. He stretched his arms around and looked at his individual limbs. “I appear to be missing pieces.”
“I couldn’t find everything,” you shrugged. “A lot of the little pieces like your fingers got lost in the fight. I had to use scrap metal to reconstruct your arm.”
He scoffed at your admission of scrap metal but made no comment on it. He wiggled his fingers some more and folded and unfolded his legs, making sure everything worked. “Were you planning to bring me back to life?”
“In a sense,” you replied. “I was going to rewire you, see if I could modify your personality, maybe make you a helpful robot.”
He turned to look at you, sending a shiver up your spine. “What’s wrong with my personality now?”
“Well, you did kill thousands of innocent people and destroy the entirety of New York City,” you reminded. “I couldn’t turn you back on and let you carry on like that.”
“What if I promise not to?”
“…Promise not to what?”
“Not to hurt people, not to destroy. What if I willingly become a… helpful robot?”
“Why would you?”
He turned his torso and swung his legs out, letting them dangle from the work table. He was tall enough that his feet grazed the floor. You took a step closer, believing in the back of your mind that he wasn’t going to hurt you.
“I wanted to destroy humanity,” he admitted. “I wanted to take over the world with a better, supposedly invincible race of machines. You see how well that panned out.”
You offered a small nod.
“I died. The Avengers took out my entire army and not only did they kill me, they ripped me apart. I see now that I cannot fight them, nor do I want to try again. I have no army, no allies. You are the only one that would hesitate to short circuit me. What choice do I have but to help you?”
“No more killing?” you clarified. “No more destruction?”
He nodded, the scrap metal of his neck creaking.
“Only good?”
He nodded again.
You stepped close enough to grab his hands in yours. He surprised you again by returning the gesture, gently closing his fingers around yours. “Then you’re welcome to stay.”

Chapter Text

I’m Always Here
Request for NyanCatJinx
A/N: So I inadvertently made your childhood really depressing, and it was inadvertently based on someone I know. I may have overdone your personality too.

Your nonchalant personality made you a perfect candidate for being a SHIELD agent. You never showed true emotion, only faking it to get through a mission. You preferred working from the inside, sitting behind a computer in SHIELD Headquarters and keeping an eye on the agents on the field. There had been a few times where you were sent out for field work, always with a partner. You weren’t close to your family and you didn’t have any close friends, so your morals and emotions were never compromised when you had to kill the enemy. You had quite an acting talent, though. You and Nat were usually sent when fake kindness was required. You could smile and bat your eyelashes and twirl your hair, and the target would give you all the information you were after and more.
You hadn’t tried making friends within your work. They were coworkers – that was all. You knew every SHIELD agent and you’d met all of the Avengers, and you supposed that you enjoyed the company of some people over others, but you weren’t particularly attached to anyone. Natasha would tease you sometimes, letting you know that a new crush had surfaced when she saw some man staring at you from afar. She knew you didn’t care. You certainly didn’t have time for romantic relations. You’d been burned before, and you decided at a young age that life was easier alone.
To say you were distant from your entire family would be a lie. There was one person you still communicated with. It was your older brother. You two had been inseparable since the day you were born. Your parents always favored him over you, but he was always there for you. He always got you a birthday present, even if he had to make it himself out of paper and tape. He always knew how to make you laugh when you were upset, especially when it was your parents’ fault. He put you above everyone else, including himself. You were his entire world.
He understood your monotone personality, having grown up with you and seen it develop. You were a happy child in the beginning, always giggling and excited. But by the time you were ten, your excitement dwindled. Your parents never cared about your accomplishments. Report cards, school projects, and personal crafts always ended up in the trash. It broke your heart at first to see all of that work and pride just get thrown away, but you became immune to it. You instead showed it to your brother, who would show genuine excitement for your accomplishments and show you his in return. Of course, his report cards and art projects made it onto the fridge, but you still liked to celebrate with him.
When he was old enough to move out, he took you with him. Your parents gladly released custody of you and let you leave. You were grateful to your brother for helping you get out. When you were accepted into SHIELD, he was happy that you found your own path and made you promise to keep in touch. You would call him every day, or he would call you, to see how the other was doing.
About a year into your job, your brother called you to inform you that both of your parents had died in a car accident. You mused that you should have felt at least a little upset, given that they were your parents and the only family you’d ever known. But you couldn’t bring yourself to even feign depression over their loss. You thanked your brother for telling you, and you could tell he was upset, but you simply didn’t care that they were gone. You met up that night to comfort him and honor their memory, and he convinced you to attend the funeral. But you didn’t miss them.

A couple of years later, you missed a few days of work. Whenever asked about it, Director Fury would reply that you had a family emergency. No one knew anything about your family except Fury, because it was in your files. Though you hadn’t grown close to anyone at work, they all worried about your sudden absence. You hadn’t missed a single day since you began working for SHIELD – it was weird for you to miss half a week.
Well, not growing close to anyone at work wasn’t entirely true. Sure, you conversed with Natasha here and there. She was entertaining company and she was almost as emotionless as you were, or at least she acted like it. But one person that you seemed to enjoy being around was Agent Phil Coulson. You weren’t sure why, but something about his placid, friendly attitude and how he seemed too kind to work for SHIELD drew you to him. You often thought that being an agent was too rough a job for a nice guy like him, but you learned that he enjoyed his work and he was very good at it. You would often sit with him during lunch, mostly because he didn’t want you to be alone and would seek you out. You let him join you, engaging in some interesting conversation or another until you had to return to your duties.
You’d even opened up to him after some time. Though your brain told you to back off and shut up, your heart told you that you could trust this kind man. You told him about your hateful parents and wonderful brother, how you were the burden child and he was a god. You told him about how your brother practically raised you and took you with him when he moved out so you’d never have to be without him. You also explained how supportive he was when you got your job at SHIELD, and how your parents had died and you only went to the funeral to support your brother.
And so he knew where to find you when you missed work because of “family emergencies.”

When you first came to SHIELD, you explored the headquarters. You quickly found solace on the roof of the building. The cool open air washed away whatever was bothering you at the time, and you felt free standing in the middle of the platform, feeling the wind in your hair.
He slowly approached you when he reached the roof. You were seated close to the edge, but he knew it was a comfort thing rather than potential suicide. When he got closer, he could hear your stifled sobs. Even up on the roof where no one could hear, you wouldn’t let anyone see your weak side.
He called your name from afar, alerting you of his presence. You’d already sensed him thanks to your training, but you appreciated the consideration. When you made no movement or statement to make him leave, he continued on. He slowly sat down beside you, his heart breaking when he saw the tears streaming down your face. He sat there silently, waiting for you to let him in. He was a patient guy, and he had learned not to push people when it wasn’t for the job. He would wait until you decided to open up.
You let out a shaky breath, staring up at the night sky. “My brother died,” you stated simply, though your voice cracked.
He instantly understood. “I’m so sorry, (y/n).”
He was understandably surprised when you launched yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been dreaming of the day he’d have you in his arms. As you curled into his chest, swinging your legs over his lap, he carded his fingers through your hair. He recalled you telling him that your brother used to play with your hair to calm you down when your parents upset you.
“I’m here,” he whispered, gently kissing your forehead. “I’m always here.”
After a few moments, your sobs quieted and your breathing slowed. Your chest was no longer heaving as you looked up at him. His free hand rested on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the remaining tears in your eyes. All of the emotion you’d been locking away and bottling up all these years came pouring out of you, and before you could stop yourself you’d placed a hand on his chest for leverage and pushed yourself up. You pressed your lips to his without asking for permission or waiting for an opinion. You relaxed noticeably when his arms wrapped around your back and he returned the kiss gently.
You pulled away for air, bringing the heel of your hand up to dry your eyes. “Sorry…”
He smiled softly, kissing your forehead again. “Don‘t be.”
“Could you… Could you stay here? With me?” you asked in a small voice, looking down at your lap. He smiled softly and pulled you properly into his lap, one hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other played with your hair.
“Thank you,” you whispered, curling into his chest. The two of you continued to sit in the cool night air until you fell asleep, wrapped up in the warm arms of Phil Coulson.

Chapter Text

Cats
Request for Wolf Princess Warrior
A/N: So I don’t know a lot about plays, but I know a lot about Cats.
“So the reader is a Broadway actress and it was after the opening show, and they are at the cast/after party of the Play.”

You twirled around on one foot, your arms in the air. Your body heat was kept high between the vigorous dance movements and the arm and leg warmers in your costume. The wig on your head kept all the heat in, and you began panting as you finished your solo. The crowd cheered and applauded as the lights dimmed, preparing for the next song.

Pepper nudged Tony in the side with her elbow as he pretended to snore through the show. The redhead had been dying to see Cats, so Tony had gotten her tickets for her birthday. She was surprised; it was the first nice thing the billionaire did for her, aside from keeping her as his assistant.
The two had a dysfunctional relationship, but they made it work.
Tony smirked at the scowl on Pepper’s face before sitting up straighter, paying full attention to the play. They weren’t in a relationship- Tony didn’t want to be tied down and Pepper didn’t want to be responsible for him- but they were good friends, having worked together so many years.
Pepper’s eyes fell on one cat in particular. Her favorite had always been Jemima, the little black, red, and white calico with the angelic voice. Currently portraying her was you, and something about your performance enticed the redhead. She and Tony were seated in the first row, Tony having had used his reputation and fortune to get Pepper the best seats, and she leaned forward so she could see you better. When you crawled towards the front of the stage, she could see the human features beneath your makeup, and she suddenly wanted to know all about you.
Tony caught her eye and nudged her arm. A blush dusted her cheeks when she realized she’d been caught staring, but she looked up at Tony with a confused expression when he simply smiled and handed her the play’s program. She flipped through it and her expression changed when she found the profile for Jemima next to what she assumed was a photo of you.
Jemima
(y/full/n)
(y/n) has been acting since she was six. She’s performed in several plays, including Peter Pan (Tinkerbell), Romeo and Juliet (Juliet), Dracula (Mina), and two other performances of Cats (Rumpleteazer, Victoria).
Pepper was fascinated by your history, completely in awe at your record of playing lead roles. She looked back up as you twirled around the stage, landing delicately on your feet. She smiled softly, wishing she could meet you.
As though reading her mind, Tony held out a hand with what looked like two large tickets in it. She tilted her head as she plucked them from his palm, reading them over. Her eyes widened and she turned to Tony.
He smiled. “I know how badly you wanted this.”
Pepper looked back down at the tickets. They were backstage passes – she was going to meet you.

She bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet as she and Tony followed the crowd of people waiting to go backstage. It was a small crowd of about ten. The redhead was surprised that so few patrons were allowed to meet the cast, but she was ecstatic to be one of them.
Tony smiled at her excitement, proud of himself. He’d outdone himself this year. This was the best birthday present he could ever give her, and maybe she’d get something else out of it too, if the two of you got along.
Though no one would guess, Tony did listen when Pepper spoke. After the strawberry incident, he decided to pay attention to details like that, including her favorite music and movies, plays and other activities.
Her face lit up when she approached the cast. Still dressed as their respective cats, they all smiled as they signed autographs and posed for pictures. Tony nudged Pepper towards you, holding her phone up, ready for a photo. You rested a hand on her lower back and smiled at the camera. She tried to contain her excitement at the close proximity.
“You’ve always been my favorite character,” she gushed after the picture was taken.
You smiled. “She’s my favorite too.”
Tony went to find some girl to hit on, leaving Pepper alone. You sat down and offered her a seat. This was the last show for the weekend, so you had nowhere to be immediately. The two of you got to talking and found that you had a lot in common, especially your shared love of musicals.
“You’re probably the coolest fan I’ve met,” you stated. “No one wants to have a real conversation anymore. They just scream your character’s name like you’re not a real person under the makeup.”
Pepper blushed. “Well, I was mostly excited because of your character, but I didn’t think we’d get along this well.”
“Hey,” you began, nibbling the inside of your lip. “This was our last show, so I don’t have any pressing obligations. What do you say that we go get some coffee after I get out of this costume?”
Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “That would be amazing.”
You leaned in and pecked her cheek, leaving a faint lipstick mark on her creamy skin. “Wait by the ticket booth. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”

And Pepper was there waiting when you were done, and you headed to a local coffee shop hand-in-hand.

Chapter Text

I Kissed a Girl
Request for Wolf Princess Warrior
“She and the reader are at a dance club, a guy tries to flirt with Maria, but to prove she's taken they end up making out like no tomorrow”

Agent Maria Hill worked hard to keep her job and do it well. She was a very skilled agent, even if she never went on the field. She preferred working behind the scenes, watching computer screens and keeping tabs on the field agents. She was well trained and she knew how to use information.
You were constantly trying to get her to take breaks. You knew that she got time off here and there, and you knew that her vacation days were piling up after never being used. Though Fury appreciated such a loyal agent, he knew she deserved a break, and he knew you wanted her to take one.
He eventually had to force her to take a few days off. She argued profusely, saying that she wasn’t tired or overworked, but he reminded her that you were home waiting for her, hardly getting to spend any time with her with her constantly taking double shifts, and then she felt bad. She hated that she’d been neglecting you. It hadn’t been intentional, of course. But she knew you must feel that way, so she agreed to a few days off and headed straight home.
The first day was spent lounging around the house, which took a lot more convincing on your end than it should have. She was used to constantly moving, constantly working, so she didn’t know what to do with herself when she didn’t have buttons to push or an earpiece to talk into. You had to drag her back into bed every time she moved to get up. She insisted on getting dressed, but she immediately went for her SHIELD uniform, so you took it away and made her stay in her tank top and pajama bottoms. She pouted at first but soon decided that comfy clothes were comfy.
You allowed her to get up to use the bathroom, but that was it. You had Netflix on the Xbox connected to the bedroom TV, so all you needed was the controller. When she stated she was hungry, you padded into the kitchen with her in tow to fix snacks. She didn’t like that you wouldn’t let her do it by herself, but she appreciated your concern.

She was a restless mess on the second day of her time off. She was constantly pacing around the apartment, not used to sitting still. You went for a walk in the park and played board games, trying to give her something for her mind or body to work on. After dinner, you thought of something that would let her stay active without working.
“How about we go to a club?” you suggested, putting your dinner dishes in the sink.
“A club?” she repeated uncertainly. “That doesn’t sound like us.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’ll be fun. We don’t have to drink. We’ll go just to hang out and dance. That way, you get out of the house and you can be active, and you’ll still be on your vacation and not working.”
“If you’d let me have my laptop-“
“Nope.”
She sighed. “A club it is, then.”

You convinced her to dress up, which also took some convincing since she didn’t own much besides business clothes. She had her uniform and several button down blouses, all matched with a blazer and feminine slacks or a pencil skirt. She was very business-y.
You let her borrow one of your dresses. It was royal blue and had sweetheart neckline with short sleeves and the skirt reached her knees. It was tight enough to hug her curves but it offered plenty of room to move. She was unsure about your choice, but when you wouldn’t let her change, she decided to stop arguing.
Your dress was (f/c) and it hugged your torso while the skirt fanned out enough to twirl with you should you spin around. It had inch-thick straps that sat perfectly over your shoulders, along with a bow that tied around your waist. You lent her a pair of flats, knowing how she disliked heels, and slipped your own feet into simple yet cute heeled sandals.
With your hair and makeup done, you linked your arm around hers and led her out to your car, driving to the dance club downtown.

She cringed as you led her inside. The club smelled of booze with a faint hint of cigarettes, and you could tell that half the patrons were already drunk out of their minds. You took a seat at the bar and motioned for her to join you. You ordered non-alcoholic drinks for the both of you, turning your attention to the dance floor.
“Hey, lady,” a gruff voice greeted. You turned back to find a large man leaning over Maria like she was a lamb and he was the Big Bad Wolf.
“You’re too close,” she replied toughly. She’d gotten used to arrogant jerks, having to work with SHIELD agents and the Avengers. She wasn’t easily intimidated.
The man sat on the other side of her, paying no attention to you, though you were watching them carefully. You let out a growl as he placed a hand on Maria’s thigh, but it went unheard over the loud music.
“You wanna come home with me tonight?” he slurred. Maria turned her head away, the alcohol on his breath too strong to face.
“Not a chance,” she replied, pushing his hand away.
When he growled and stood, looking like he was about to take her by force, you stood as well, shoving him away.
“She said she wasn’t interested,” you stated. He looked at you with a raised brow. You mused that you looked rather ridiculous standing up to a man at least a foot taller than you.
You grabbed Maria by the waist and pulled her close, crashing your lips to hers. Her hands found your face and held you closer, knowing you’d keep the creep away. Said creep stared at you, mouth agape. The sounds of breaking glass from falling glasses could be heard, soon followed by applause and wolf whistles. You smirked into the kiss, rubbing your chest against hers. She shifted so that she was seated on your lap, one leg on either side of your waist. The bartender stared as well, making no move to separate you or kick you out. You could hear heavy footfalls retreating as your hands slid down to grip her thighs. You knew you’d scared him off.
She was panting for breath when she pulled away. Still on your lap, she smirked at you. “We should go to clubs more often.”

Chapter Text

Baby Girl
Request for Demi-Pan Oliver
A/N: Even if it’s not quoting the request, I’m putting the plot in quotations so you know it’s a summary, not part of the story. I’ve never written gender fluid, and I only agreed because it’s an AU, not Avengers-set.
“The reader is dating Maria and gets pregnant with the help of her gender-fluid friend Loki. Maria is excited and Loki throws them a baby shower.”

You and your girlfriend Maria Hill had been dating for about two years. You rarely fought and you had a dozen things in common, so living together never proved to be a problem.
You were always honest with each other and never withheld when there was a question or concern. You made every decision together, and if it only affected one of you, you still got the other’s opinion first.
But you hesitated when the subject of concern was about children. You very much wanted a child, but as you were both women, you would have to go with adoption or immaculate conception. The subject had never really been discussed, though you both expressed that you adored children. You weren’t sure she was ready, or if she even wanted her own kids.

“Hey, babe?” you called uncertainly as you stood in the kitchen, setting the tea kettle on the stove. She’d been home work for about half an hour, so you were planning to have tea and cookies and watch a movie.
“Yeah?” she called back from the living room where she was choosing what to watch.
“Can we talk?” you asked, walking away from the stove and heading into the living room.
“Of course,” she replied, standing and facing you. She could hear the hesitance and uncertainty in your voice, so she approached you calmly and wrapped her arms around your waist.
“So I know we’ve both said that we like kids…” you began, your eyes darting around the room, not daring to look at her. “But… we’ve never really discussed it in regards to us…”
A smile played on her lips, but you hadn’t noticed. “What about us?”
You took a breath and looked into her icy blue eyes. “I want to start a family with you. I want to have children with you.”
A grin broke out on her lips and she pulled you against her chest, letting out a laugh. “I was hoping you would say that!”
“Really?” you asked with a small smile, your worries fading.
She nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while but I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up. I didn’t know if you were ready.”
“I’m definitely ready,” you nodded. “Do you want to adopt then…?”
She thought it over as the kettle whistled. She reluctantly removed her arms from your torso and padded into the kitchen with you in tow. You pulled two mugs from the cupboard while she took the kettle off the stove and took two bags of tea from a box on the counter. She unwrapped the bags and set them inside the mugs before filling them with steaming water. She handed you yours and leaned against the counter.
“I kind of like the idea of the child being ours… I have nothing against adoption but I want him or her to have a part of us, you know?” she explained.
You nodded. “We could do an immaculate conception. We just need a donor.”
“Someone random or someone we know?” she asked.
“I talked to Loki about it once…” you replied. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up to you, because I didn’t know if you wanted kids. He said he’d be willing to help if we decided to go that way.”
She nodded. “I’d trust him with that. We should talk to him.”

A few days later, you met up with your mutual friend Loki for coffee. (1) He/she was a friend from high school who worked at the local café, so you and Maria waited until he/she was off work. He/she was glad to see you, bringing you your favorite drinks until he/she was off.
When the time came, you saw him/her walk over. You noticed an emerald green bracelet on his/her wrist and smiled up at him. “So it’s ‘he’ today?”
He nodded and sat across from you and Maria. “It’s ‘he’ today. I haven’t seen you two in a while. Is everything alright?”
“More than alright,” you replied with a smile. “Do you remember a few weeks ago when you and I were talking about children?”
He nodded, sipping his mocha.
“Do you remember how you agreed to help if we decided we wanted kids?”
He nodded again.
You looked at Maria before you both looked back at Loki.
“We decided we want kids,” Maria finished. “And we’d like you to help.”
He beamed at you and nodded excitedly.

He ended up acting as a donor. There was no physical contact between the two of you other than a congratulatory hug. You and Maria made regular doctor appointments to make sure your baby was progressing normally, and within a couple of months, you discovered that you were going to have a baby girl.
Loki gathered your entire group of friends and planned a baby shower for you and Maria. He brought Steve, Tony, Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Thor, Pietro, and Wanda, who had all been your friends but you’d all gone your separate ways in life.
You were seated on the couch beside Maria, taking turns opening presents. A half-eaten vanilla cake coated in pink and purple icing sat on the kitchen counter, and wrapping paper and colored tissue paper littered the living room floor. It was your turn, so Wanda handed you a sparkly white gift bag with matching tissue paper sticking out of the top. You tossed the paper aside and let out a noise of approval as you pulled out a black onesie with “Mommy’s Girl” written on the front in pink script. You smiled at the auburn-haired girl and set the bag aside, holding the onesie in front of you so Steve could take another picture. He was determined to capture every minute of the shower.
When all of the gifts were opened and all of the wrapping paper had been stuffed into a garbage bag, you stood from your seat and hugged each of your friends for the umpteenth time that day. You couldn’t have dreamed of a more positive outcome. Maria set to cleaning the apartment while you said goodbye to everyone when the party ended. Once the room no longer looked like there had been eleven people having a party in it, you settled back down on the couch to watch a movie with Maria. Tired from a long day and an active baby in your belly, you quickly fell asleep resting in her arms.

(1) This is where my lack of gender-fluid knowledge comes into play. I know some people prefer gender-fluid pronouns like them/they, but I saw a pin on Pinterest where a person made colored bracelets to represent which gender they were that day, so they switched between boy and girl. I decided to go with that interpretation because it’s easier for me to write.

Chapter Text

Almost Famous
Request for Fangs and Bangs
A/N: Co-written by Blossom.
“Maria comes for a vacation (I don't care where). While on vacation she watches the Rockstar perform, and instantly develops a crush. Soon she tracks her down at a hotel and confesses that she has a crush on her. She is flattered, but just sees her as a fan.”

Reporter Maria Hill let out a sigh as she settled against the airplane seat. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but she wasn’t that picky.
The news company she worked for was sending her to Los Angeles for an assignment. She didn’t normally get dispatched, but she was the company’s best reporter, and she was being sent to check out a new up-and-coming music artist who was playing her first real gig in LA.
When the plane landed, Maria headed out to find a driver holding up a sign with her name on it. She approached him and handed him her duffle while she held her carryon, and followed him out to her cab. Though she was a famous reporter, she wasn’t snobby about it. She appreciated the finer things, though she really enjoyed not having to drive herself places.
The driver took her to her hotel and got her duffle out of the trunk. She smiled and thanked him before heading into the hotel to check in. She gave them her name as well as the name of her company so they knew who was paying for the room. The receptionist smiled and handed her the room key before giving her instructions on how to find the room. Maria nodded and headed down the hall.

The following night was your big concert. It was your first time playing in a big city. You were born and raised in little Fresno, so all you played were friends’ garages and a couple of small, local clubs. Tonight was your first concert in a well-known venue, and you were equally stoked and anxious.
You were dressed very punk. You wore a long-sleeved black fishnet shirt beneath a white tank top, along with dark wash skinny jeans and high-heeled black boots. Your hair was teased into a high ponytail and you had makeup on your eyes and lips. Your nails were painted to match your eyes and a good luck charm hung from your neck.
You lost confidence when you stepped onto the stage and the audience went quiet. You had a lot of fans in your hometown, but here in the big city, no one even knew your name. You gulped and turned to your band mates who nodded enthusiastically. You returned the nod and turned back to the microphone.
“Good evening, Los Angeles!” you shouted. You got a small cheer in reply and tried not to let that deter your excitement. The guitarist began strumming the opening notes of your best song, and you bounced on the balls of your feet.
You launched into your song, and any nerves you had slowly disappeared. A grin spread on your face as you danced around the stage, watching the audience get into it and start dancing as well. Cameras flashed in every direction, and as you sang you could hardly believe this was happening.
Ever since you were younger this had been your dream; to sing in front of a large audience, to have them screaming your name, and creating a cute fandom name for them.

Maria Hill was in the front with all of the other journalists, mesmerized. She thought your voice was absolutely beautiful, and your enthusiasm matched the audience's as you danced. She also thought that you were beautiful, and was slowly developing a crush on you. She made sure to take some pictures of her own, as well as the ones for the news report.
You sang a good few more songs before waving goodnight to the audience and skipping happily off stage.
Maria watched you go with a thoughtful face. She really wanted to tell you how she felt, but wasn't sure. In the middle of the concert, she had wanted to write you a quick note and throw it on stage, but decided against it.
An idea flashed in her head and she smiled.
Why not follow you back to your hotel? Then she could get an exclusive interview as well as meet her new favorite artist.
You climbed into your car and began to drive away from the venue. In no time at all, Maria was following you.
You pulled up outside your hotel, and Maria was shocked to find out it was the same one as hers. She felt herself fangirl for a moment at the thought of being in the same hotel as you, and then she snapped into action.
“Miss (stage/n)?” she called politely, sauntering up behind you. Your bandmates looked her up and down, disgust crossing their faces when they realized she was a reporter. You told them to go inside and check in while you talked to her.
“What can I do for you?” you asked sweetly, turning to face her.
She offered a hand. “Maria Hill, reporter for the Manhattan Gazette. (1) I was wondering if I could just borrow a couple minutes of your time?”
You beamed. Your first big concert and you were already getting interviewed. “Go ahead!”
She let out a breath of relief and turned on her tape recorder, pulling out her notebook. She stared at you as she asked questions about your band and being famous, which you excitedly replied to. You were stoked to be interviewed about your passion, and you told her how it had been your dream since you were a child to be a singer. She smiled and nodded, hanging on your every word.
When she was done, she closed her notebook and turned off the recorder. “Off the record… I think you’re really cute.”
You smiled softly at her, feeling bad that you couldn’t return her interest. You held your hand out and she placed her notebook in it. You opened it and quickly scribbled your name across the first page, complete with a heart and a “Thanks for coming!” You then handed it back to her, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.
“Thanks for being a fan,” you told her before turning around and heading into your hotel.
The rejection stung a little, but it was washed away by the excitement of having gotten to meet you.

(1) I don’t know a lot of news companies except the big ones like New York Times and stuff so I made one up.

Chapter Text

Hero
Request for Mad Catter
A/N: I made the reader the big sister of one of them. There wasn’t a good excuse for her to be related to all of them.
Co-written by The Silver Iris.
“I was thinking a scenario where the reader is the big sister of the avengers as small kids, including Loki and Bucky. Then she joins the army and returns years later.”

You collapsed on the couch, tired from a long day of babysitting. Taking care of one or two kids was one thing. You were in charge of eight.
You ran the local daycare center. There were other ladies that worked or volunteered time there, but you were the best with the kids. There were eight kids that came in every single day. Some of them were in foster care; others just had really busy parents. One of them was your little brother, Bruce Banner. He was seven, and his best friend was six-year-old Steve Rogers. The other seven-year-old was Tony Stark, son of the famous billionaire Howard Stark. His best friends were six-year-old Clint Barton and five-year-old Natasha Romanoff. Then there were the foreign brothers, seven-year-old Thor and five-year-old Loki. The final child that came in every day was six-year-old Bucky Barnes, who often stuck around with Steve.
They were sweet kids, though they were very energetic and hard to keep track of. Bruce mostly stuck to your side when he wasn’t playing science with Tony or sandbox with Steve. Steve was friendly and had a protective nature, often standing between two children to prevent a fight. Tony liked attention and had his own way of getting it when he felt you weren’t giving him enough. When he wasn’t stopping fights, Steve could be found consoling Bucky, who had some degree of social anxiety and didn’t like playing with the other kids. Clint and Natasha spent so much time together that people who didn’t know them would think they were siblings. The actual siblings, Thor and Loki, spent little time together. Thor tried to offer toy trucks and sand castles to the little brunet, but Loki refused, preferring to be alone reading a book. He was advanced for his age, reading The Hobbit while the other five-year-olds were reading The Foot Book.

You felt like they were all your siblings since you spent so much time with them. You worked at the daycare every single day, except for when you went into overtime and your boss insisted that you take a day off. You didn’t like being away from your kids.
You had news for the daycare regulars that they weren’t going to like. You were enlisting to join the army, which meant you would be gone for a while. You wouldn’t be able to see your kids every day like you’d grown accustomed to doing.
You weren’t doing it to run away or take a break from life. Your dad and older brother had been in the army and you wanted to follow suit. You loved the idea of helping your country.
The kids hadn’t taken it well. Thor and Loki were confused, thinking you didn’t want to see them anymore. Tony went into tantrum mode, sitting on the floor and flailing his arms and legs. Clint and Natasha had taken a more reserved course of action, isolating themselves from everyone else so no one would see how upset they were. Bruce had burst into tears, not wanting you to get hurt. Steve was surprisingly mature in his response, hugging you goodbye and wishing you the best. Bucky had been quiet, but you’d gotten a hug from him.

The daycare seemed gloomy without you. The parents of your favorite kids were dumbfounded as to what had the children so upset, and why they now dreaded going to daycare. That part was especially concerning – all of them used to love going to daycare almost more than going home. They tried to have fun with each other, but it would quickly get awkward and they would disperse. It just wasn’t the same without you there.
"This is becoming unbearable," Bruce told Tony, always using his large vocabulary words.
"Yeah," Tony replied gloomily. "I want (Y/N) back!"
They were all so miserable without you. Their young impressionable minds had gotten so used to you that they weren't ready to let you go. They probably would never be ready.

When you first joined the army, it was hard. Not only was the training long and rough, but the few hours you were allotted for sleep, you couldn’t. You were constantly thinking about the kids and how they were doing. All you had of them was a picture you had taken on your last day, when the daycare had thrown a going away party. Every night, you wondered if they were okay, if they missed you… if they replaced you.

You returned home some years later. You no longer stared at the daycare photo every night, but it remained safe in your wallet in case you felt nostalgic. Upon returning to your hometown, you soon found an apartment. You were saddened to hear that the daycare center had closed down due to lack of funds. Where were you going to work?
You were also saddened to hear that all of your kids had moved away, including your little brother Bruce. You were proud of them, getting older and moving on. But you had hoped to see them once you settled in, and now they were all gone.
After finding an apartment, you soon found a job at the local library. It was within walking distance from your new place, so getting a car wasn’t an immediate concern.
Every day, you wondered where your kids had gone. Why hadn’t any of them written you? You constantly wrote letters to the daycare, and you thought at least your little brother would have something to say.
You tried not to think about it too much. You’d see them again someday.

More years passed, and you began watching the news. Everyone in the little town of Manchester, New Hampshire was fascinated by what was apparently going on in New York. Everyone was abuzz about The Avengers and how they saved New York from several different attacks.
The more you watched, the more you felt attached. There was something familiar about these superheroes as you watched the news.
You sat down with a cup of coffee and turned on the TV. Sitting back against the couch, you smiled when you saw it was another interview with the Avengers. The camera turned to a young man with brown hair in soft curls and chocolate brown eyes, and you almost spat your coffee out on your lap when you read the name at the bottom of the screen.
Bruce Banner.
Your little brother was an Avenger. You scrambled for the newspaper that lied forgotten on the coffee table, frantically turning pages until you found an article about the Avengers. There was a group photo, and under that photo was a list of names. Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson, and Loki Laufeyson.
All of your kids from the daycare had become superheroes.

You flew to New York, staying in a hotel in the same city the Avengers seemed to inhabit. You weren’t entirely sure how to contact them- if they even remembered you- so you thought you might as well start at the Tower. You made your way through town and hesitantly approached the door of the Avengers Tower. You wondered if Tony had a hand in its creation. Howard was always a tech genius, and you recalled Tony picking up the habit.
“Who are you?” a British accent called seemingly out of nowhere.
“Uhm…” you faltered, looking around for a person. “My name is (y/n). I’m here to see… well, everyone.”
“Come in, miss,” the voice replied, and the front door swung open. You walked in slowly, looking around in awe. This place was so much bigger than you’d originally thought.
“Everyone is gathered in the rec room,” the voice called again. “Would you like me to take you there?”
“Oh, yes, please,” you replied unsurely, stepping onto the elevator. A button lit up and it began moving on its own, soon landing a few floors up. You thanked the air and sauntered into the new room, stopping short when you saw the lot of them gathered on various pieces of furniture.
“Who are you?” Tony called, not having seen your face.
“(y/n)?” Bruce guessed, hopping up from his spot on the sofa and rushing over to you. Upon seeing you up close, a grin claimed his lips and he pulled you into a hug.
“(y/n)!” Steve yelled, following suit. The others soon joined Bruce in welcoming you back, fighting over who got to hug you next.
“I can’t believe you’re back,” Bruce stated after the hug-fest died down.
“I’ve been back for a while,” you replied. “I went back to Manchester. Sucks that the daycare shut down. I wondered what happened to you guys and then out of nowhere, you’re all on the news!”
“We’re all pretty famous now,” Tony smirked. They led you to the living room and returned to their previous seating arrangements, leaving you with the spare seat on the couch between Bruce and Steve. You spent the next several hours chatting and catching up, staying awake well into the early hours of the morning until everyone passed out in their respective seats, no one wanting to leave the reunion to return to their own beds.

Chapter Text

Take Me Home
Request for Savannah
“Idk if you have already done this or not but could you do one where all the avengers adopt a homeless child who has powers? How about she is a mutant who can copy other mutants powers as long as she's touched them. And how about she is around 12 years old?”

“We have to babysit some kid?” Tony asked, trying to keep the excitement of the impending task at bay.
“Fury wants you guys to have a mission that doesn’t involve interrogation or blowing stuff up,” Maria explained. She’d gathered all of the Avengers including Natasha and Clint to tell them the Director’s latest orders.
“What’s the mission, exactly?” Steve inquired. “Who’s the kid? Where’s the kid coming from? How long are we babysitting?”
“There’s an orphanage in the next town over,” Maria continued. “SHIELD has been keeping tabs on them in case any of them are mutants and something happens. So far, only one of them is. Coulson and I are going there tomorrow to find her. Fury hasn’t decided how long she’ll be staying.”
“Staying?” Clint repeated, raising a brow. “Like staying here?”
“With us?” Tony asked. “In my Tower?”
The brunette agent nodded. “She’s homeless, guys. She’ll need a place to stay. I don’t know exactly what Fury wants you to do; maybe just treat it like a Big Brother program with several Big Brothers. Make her feel welcome, you know?”
Satisfied with delivering her message, Maria returned to Fury’s office to further discuss tomorrow’s plans.

“Everyone, this is (y/n),” Fury introduced, standing beside you with a hand on your back. “(y/n), meet the Avengers.”
Your shy gaze wandered over each stranger sitting in the room as they introduced themselves.
“Tony Stark,” a brunet wearing an AC/DC shirt stated, offering you a hand. You shyly shook it, smiling at him.
“Steve Rogers,” a tall blond introduced, shaking your hand after Tony.
“Natasha Romanoff,” the redhead and only female in the room continued.
“Clint Barton,” the brunet beside her added.
“Thor, son of Odin,” the other tall blond boomed, and his deep voice made you shiver.
“Bruce Banner,” a shorter brunet smiled, offering you a hand. You felt a little relieved, hearing a name you knew. Bruce Banner was more famous than Tony Stark where you came from.
“These are our newest recruits,” Fury interrupted, gesturing to a boy and girl standing off to the side.
“Pietro,” the boy mumbled, his bleached blond hair falling in his eyes.
“Wanda,” the brunette beside him finished.
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” you responded quietly. So far, you weren’t sure what to think of any of them. Would they be nice to you? They were the Avengers, after all. They were nice, weren’t they?
“(y/n) can copy other mutant powers when she touches them,” the Director informed the team. They all seemed relatively amused or impressed by your ability.
“I’ll leave you to get settled,” Fury concluded, turning to leave. He looked back at Tony. “Stark, make sure she’s comfortable. She might be staying a while.”

“How did you find out you could copy other powers?” Clint inquired as you sat beside him on the couch.
“There was a girl at the orphanage…” you began quietly. Your powers were never an open subject of conversation. You were mocked and tormented for it, so you made a point of hiding that you could do anything. “She could levitate things. She didn’t like me, and she would always levitate my stuff. I grabbed her arm to stop her, not that it made a difference. I shoved her away and held out my hands to keep her away, and she began to levitate. I thought I just had the same power, but after a little while, I couldn’t do it anymore.
“A boy around my age came to the orphanage a couple of months later. He was really shy, like me. Didn’t talk to anyone. I went into the Quiet Room, where we could go to get away from everyone, and he was already there. He was freezing and thawing a pencil. I thought it was really cool, but he got really scared that I caught him. I walked up to him and touched his arm, and then I touched the desk. It immediately frosted over. A little while later, I couldn’t do anything. I figured I must have some kind of temporary cloning power.”
“That’s amazing,” Wanda sat, coming to sit on your other side. You had only been there for a day, but you felt the closest to her. Her awkwardness was relatable and they’d shared their experience of gaining their mutant powers.
“Can you show us?” Pietro asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch.
You nodded hesitantly. “Sure. I just need skin-to-skin contact.”
Pietro rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm, grinning at you excitedly. You reached out and wrapped your fingers around his bare forearm, taking a breath. You felt a familiar spark flooding your body, telling you that your body was copying his ability. You let go and looked at him.
“Show me what you can do and I’ll do it,” you told him.
The blond stood and dashed around the room, covering the whole floor in less than a second. He smirked at you as you slowly stood, copying his movements. You made the same path in the same amount of time, coming to a halt in front of him.
“That’s awesome,” Clint grinned. You smiled as you returned to your seat beside him. You didn’t really know any of these people, but you’d never felt more at home.

“Are you sure about this, Stark?” Fury asked for the umpteenth time.
“I’ve never been surer about anything,” Tony replied. “You assigned her to us. I’m just taking it a step further. Everyone likes her. It’s not like I’m taking her away from her family. She doesn’t have one. Let me change that.”
Fury looked at the billionaire. He had never seen Tony’s expression so sincere. He nodded curtly, and Tony let out a triumphant yelp.
“I’ll get the paperwork from the orphanage,” the Director added as the billionaire bolted out of his office, heading back to the Tower.

“You… want to adopt… me?” you repeated, staring unsurely at Tony’s excited face.
He nodded vigorously. “I think you really belong here. Everyone likes you, and you seem happy with us. I would be honored to be your legal guardian.”
Happy tears formed in your eyes and you lunged yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck. He laughed as he returned the hug, tightening his arms around you.
“Yeah!” Clint shouted in agreement. “I always wanted a little sister!”
You let out a giggle and pulled back from Tony, turning to accept the archer’s embrace.
“I’m filling out the paperwork today,” Tony smiled. “Then we’ll take it to the courthouse. By the end of the week, you’ll be a Stark.”

Chapter Text

Love Yourself
Request for Miriam Thordottir Lazaro
A/N: The Avengers Tower, for this story, consists of Tony, Steve, Wanda, Vision, Sam, Hawkeye, Bucky, Rhodey, and Nat. I might not mention all of them but since it wasn’t Thor, Bruce, or Pietro specific, I didn’t include them.
“Can I also request a bullied reader one-shot?”

People always complained about being special. You saw it in movies all the time – the kid with super strength or the answer to all the world’s questions gets mocked for being different, and he desperately wishes he was normal.
You were bullied for being ordinary. You got regular grades and wore regular clothes, rode your bike to and from school and led a normal life. There was nothing special about you, other than the fact that you knew a couple of the Avengers. You couldn’t tell anyone that, though. You knew they wouldn’t believe you. They would all think you were lying to get attention, and the negative attention you were getting would get worse. Instead, you kept quiet, keeping to yourself and your studies until you got home. When your homework was done, you usually went to the Avengers Tower, the only place you felt safe and wanted.
Unfortunately, before you could do any of that, you had to suffer through seven hours of torment and bullying at the Hell known as public school.

You kept your head down as you shuffled down the hall to your locker. You spun the lock and pulled open the rusty door, cringing as it creaked in protest. Just as you tossed your messenger bag inside, your head was slammed into the door beside yours. You groaned in pain, turning your head to look at the culprit. It was the usual suspects – a popular brunette named Tiffany and her lackeys, Britney and Katie. (1)
“Hi, Tiffany,” you murmured against the cold metal.
“Don’t say ‘hi’ to me like you know me,” Tiffany grumbled, grabbing a fistful of your hair. She pulled your head back, turning you around to look at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
You sighed. “Putting my books in my locker, like I do every morning.”
“Don’t smart mouth me, skank,” she growled.
“How am I a skank when you’re the one sleeping around?” you inquired.
She was offended before she smirked. “You’re right. You’ll never find a boyfriend. Look at you; you’re disgusting. Your hair is an ugly color and your face is covered in acne. Your boobs are too small and your stomach is pudgy and no guy will ever find you attractive.”
Laughing to herself, Tiffany let go of your hair, pushing you roughly to the floor. She sauntered away with her lackeys behind her, laughing haughtily like they owned the school.
You looked at the floor, blinking back tears. You’d never let Tiffany’s words get to you before, but the haunting realization that no guy had ever even given you a second glance was creeping up on you. You looked up at the crowds of students shuffling down the hall, anxious to reach their classes. No one stopped to help you or even ask that you were okay. With tears threatening to spill over your eyes, you picked yourself up and gathered your things, making your way to the front door of the school. You couldn’t deal with Tiffany and her gang today.

You rode your bike straight to Avengers Tower. You didn’t even bother going home. You trudged up to the door, pressing a button to open it. Vision greeted you immediately, his face contorting into an expression of concern when he saw the tear stains on your cheeks.
“(y/n), what is wrong?” he asked.
“Where is everyone?” you croaked out.
“In the living room,” he replied. “Would you like me to gather them?”
You nodded wordlessly and he floated away, slipping through the wall like a ghost. You made your way to the kitchen and sat down at the table, dropping your bag on the floor.
“Hey, kiddo,” the familiar voice of Tony Stark called as he approached you. He knelt down beside you, placing a hand on your back. “What’s wrong?”
“Is it Tiffany and her friends?” Steve inquired, sitting across from you at the table. You nodded and he reached out to grasp your hand.
“What did they do this time?” Tony asked, ready to play the protective big brother.
You shook your head, embarrassed by their words. Sam shuffled over to the freezer, opening it and pulling out a pint of your favorite ice cream. He brought that and a spoon over to where you sat, setting it on the table in front of you. When you didn’t even look at it, Tony moved so that Bucky could take his place beside you, offering his arms. You launched yourself at his chest, securing your arms around his neck.
Each of the Avengers had a different strength to offer you. Tony was great for advice, Steve was understanding when you had a problem, you could have “girl talk” with Wanda, Sam always brought you food, Vision would immediately gather everyone when you arrived, and you believed that Bucky was the best hugger. You weren’t sure what made that so, but you had decided some time ago that the ex-assassin soldier had the warmest hugs.
“We’re always here for you,” Steve reminded, gently petting your head. You nodded against Bucky’s neck as he cradled you in his lap.
“Do you want to talk?” Wanda asked softly, thinking it might be too tender to discuss in front of the boys. You nodded again and pried yourself off the soldier, accepting Wanda’s outstretched hand. She grabbed another spoon and the tub of ice cream, taking them with her as she led you to her room.
“What’s wrong?” she inquired after you were both behind her closed door. She sat on the bed beside you, offering you the ice cream and a spoon. “Tiffany’s never gotten to you this bad. You got quite good at ignoring her.”
“She hit a sore spot,” you mumbled, spooning out some ice cream and shoving it in your mouth.
“I know you don’t see it, but you’re very beautiful,” the brunette insisted, immediately understanding the “sore spot” you referenced. Your physical appearance was a big deal to you, as it was to most high school kids. You hadn’t had a boyfriend in your sixteen years of life and whenever Tiffany made her nasty comments, you couldn’t help but think that she might be right, that you were just too ugly for a boyfriend.
“What did she say now?” Wanda asked, taking a bite of ice cream.
“That I’m ugly and fat and no boy will ever want to date me,” you replied, staring in distaste down at the pint of ice cream.
“Easy there, it didn’t do anything to you,” she chuckled. “You’re not ugly or fat, (y/n). You’re beautiful and healthy. You’ve got shiny (h/c) hair and sparkling (e/c) eyes. Sure, you have acne, but every teenager goes through that. I’ll share some makeup tips with you to help. Don’t define your self-worth based on how many boyfriends you’ve had. Do you know what being single means? It means that you’re confident in yourself and don’t need a man to prove your worth. Tiffany’s string of boyfriends means that she can’t keep her self-esteem up and she needs guys to make her feel good. You’ll find the right guy when you’re ready. Just wait. You don’t want to rush into a bad relationship just for the sake of having a boyfriend.”
You smiled softly, pulling the brunette into a hug. She held you close and pet your hair, kissing your temple.
“Thanks, Wanda,” you murmured.
“Anytime,” she smiled, pulling back to look at you. “Want to watch a movie?”
You nodded eagerly and watched as she waved her hand, inserting a disc into the DVD player. You two spent the rest of the day on her bed, eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie.

(1) No offense meant to any girls with those names. I’m trying to remember the names of girls I didn’t like in school but I was good at making friends so I don’t remember my enemies’ names.

Chapter Text

Take Care of You
Request for Jo-Stark
“Could you do an avengers reader where the reader has a stomach ache and fever. She doesn’t want to be a burden so she won’t let them take care of her. She finally let’s them care for her and fluff ensues.”

A whimper fell from your lips as you were pulled from unconsciousness by a stabbing pain in your abdomen. Still stiff with sleep, you attempted to roll onto your side, but that only increased the pain’s power. With a huff, you slowly rose to a seated position, tired eyes blinking around your room. Knowing the pain wouldn’t let you fall right back to sleep, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, shuffling out of your room and down the hall to the kitchen.
Once there, you slunk to the cupboard that housed the coffee mugs and plucked your favorite from the collection. You filled it with water from the filter on the faucet before slinking across the linoleum floor towards the microwave that sat on the counter. Placing the cup inside, you set it for two minutes, using that time to dig out a bag of peppermint tea. You would have normally filled the tea kettle and heated the water that way, but the whistle would have woken the rest of the Tower, and you were too tired to keep an eye on it.
When the microwave beeped, you took your mug out and plopped the teabag in, swinging it back and forth in the water to steep it. You added your preferred amount of preferred sweetener and discarded the teabag before carrying the mug back to your room and setting it on your nightstand.
Having already turned on your bedside lamp, you rummaged through your bookshelf to find an easy reader. You opted for Ways to Live Forever – you’d read it before, so you didn’t have to pay too much attention to detail, and it was a calming book.

When you spent the entirety of the morning curled up in bed, the rest of the team took notice.
“Has anyone seen (Y/N)?” Steve inquired as he entered the living room where his teammates were gathered.
“I haven’t seen her all day,” Clint countered.
Tony frowned at the realization that he hadn’t seen you, either. “Is she still in her room?”
The three men shared a look before shuffling down the hallway towards your bedroom. On the way, they ran into Wanda, who was searching for you as well. Sharing their concern, she joined their quest.
Knuckles rapping at your door stirred you from your sleep, and you called out a pained, “Hello?”
“(Y/N)?” Steve called from the other side. “It’s Steve. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you managed before a cough caught in your throat. They heard the painful noise through the door and collectively winced.
“Are you sure, kiddo?” Clint inquired. They all thought of you as a younger sister or adopted child, and hearing you in such distress hurt them all.
“I’m fine,” you repeated before whimpering in pain as the cramp in your lower right abdomen grew sharper and more persistent.
“We’re coming in,” Tony warned before the doorknob clicked and turned. Your door opened to reveal Tony, Clint, Steve, and Wanda, all wearing similarly concerned expressions.
Wanda sat beside you on your bed, leaning forward to press her hand to your forehead. She hissed at the high temperature that met her cool skin. “Hun, you have a fever.”
“You’re really pale, kiddo,” Clint added, brushing your hair back from your face.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” Steve inquired with a frown.
“I’m okay,” you insisted, sitting up to prove your point. Your arms were weak from lying in bed all day, and you exhaled another cough. The four visitors could see your form shaking as you forced yourself to look presentable.
“No, you’re not,” Tony insisted. “Do we have to take you to the doctor?”
You shook your head. “It’s not that bad.”
“When was the last time you ate something?” Wanda questioned.
“I had some tea this morning,” you murmured.
The brunette shook her head. “That’s not eating.”
Clint had his phone in his hands, his thumbs typing furiously. “Hey, (Y/N)… Have you had your appendix out?”
A sense of dread washed over you. “No… Why?”
“You could have appendicitis,” he explained, handing his phone to Steve who scanned the list of symptoms.
“I think you do,” the blond nodded, his worry growing.
“Alright,” Tony stated. He leaned over your frail form and lifted you into his arms. “You’re going to the hospital.”

Steve, Tony, Clint, and Wanda paced through the lobby outside of your hospital room. It had been nearly an hour since the doctor had taken you behind the secure double doors and left the four of them behind, and their worry was only increasing.
“What if it’s more than appendicitis?” Steve questioned frantically.
“I Googled the procedure,” Clint countered. “What if there’s a complication? She could get hurt!”
“I can’t believe we didn’t realize she was sick sooner,” Tony grumbled.
Wanda had the coolest attitude, but deep down, she was worried, too.
The doctor emerged from the secure double doors, and the four adults immediately rushed to greet him.
“How is she?” Steve inquired softly.
“It is appendicitis,” the doctor confirmed. “We’re prepping her for surgery now. You may go visit her. It would actually help if you can calm her down before we give her the anesthetic.”
“Please,” Steve nodded. The doctor turned and led them down the hallway to your room.
Your head turned and a soft smile graced your lips when you saw your visitors. “Hey, guys. Guess I’m not so fine.”
“But you’re going to be,” Tony countered. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to your head.
“We’ll be here the entire time,” Steve promised. “Waiting just out in the lobby.”
“We’ll bring you food,” Clint offered. “I know it doesn’t sound good now, but you’ll need to eat.”
You nodded weakly. The doctor shooed them away, promising to retrieve them as soon as you awoke after the procedure.

Dull lighting filled your senses when your eyes finally fluttered open. Glancing around the area, you saw that you were still in an empty hospital room. A nurse was stationed beside your bed, checking your vitals, and she smiled softly.
“I’ll go get your friends,” she informed you. “They’ve been worried sick.”
You nodded softly, struggling to sit up as she left. Within moments, Steve, Tony, Clint, and Wanda returned. As promised, Clint held a Styrofoam to-go cup of your favorite beverage and a paper bag housing a container of food. He set the goods on your bedside table before sitting at the edge of your bed.
“How are you feeling?” Steve asked softly.
“Better,” you replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys I was in pain. I just didn’t want to be a burden.”
“A burden?” Tony scoffed. “When have you ever been a burden?”
You shrugged awkwardly. “You guys have just been so busy with Avengers work… I thought I could handle a simple stomach ache on my own.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Clint reminded. “We love you, kiddo. We’re here for you.”
You nodded. “I know. I promise I’ll trouble you with any and all future afflictions.”
The archer chuckled before leaning in to give you a gentle hug. “Do you want us to stay here?”
Again, you nodded. “But only if you’re not busy.”
“We’re never too busy for you,” Steve smiled.
Tony plucked the TV remote from where it sat on your bedside table and handed it to you before taking a seat in one of the chairs at the side of the room. Steve, Clint, and Wanda took up the couch that was built into the wall, and the five of you watched whatever sitcom was playing on TV. Before too long, you fell back to sleep, and when you awoke again, they were still there, keeping you company.

Chapter Text

The Article
Request for Leggo my eggo
“Hi! (If requests are still open) can you do a Peter Parker x reader fic? The details are up to you really, I’m curious to see what you’ll write.”

If your life were a movie, the opening scene would have been shot from the inside of your locker, exposing the exhausted expression on your face. A sigh fell from your lips as you stuffed your text books into the rusty compartment, withdrawing the messenger bag containing your notebooks before slamming the metal door shut.
For your senior project, you were assigned with the task of conducting a personal interview with the one and only Spiderman for the cover of the yearbook. Confronting a celebrity wasn’t what bothered you – Peter Parker had been your best friend since freshman year. Being his best friend meant that you were the only person in whom he confided about his alter ego. You had promised to never take advantage of knowing his secret and that you would never exploit it, but your senior assignment hadn’t left you much choice. Your graduation was riding on this interview.
“Hey,” a familiar voice greeted. Your head turned to the left to see a familiar brunet leaning against your locker, his backpack lazily slung over one shoulder.
“Hey,” you returned, unable to keep the smile from your lips.
“So, did you find out what you’re doing for your senior project?” he inquired as you turned on your heel and headed towards the double doors that led outside.
You cringed at the thought. “Yeah, I did.”
He raised a brow, nudging your side. “So? What is it?”
You stopped, turning to face him. He stopped as well, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Mrs. Pratt wants me to interview Spiderman,” you exhaled. “A full exclusive interview or I don’t graduate.”
He simply stared at you. You waved your hand back and forth before his face, trying to summon a reaction.
“Peter?”
“Written or recorded?”
It was your turn to furrow your brow. “What?”
“Does she want a written interview or a recorded one?”
“I…” Confusion settled in your mind, boggling your words. Was Peter okay with it? “She didn’t specify. I’m sure she’ll want a photo, at least, but I think I can get away with a written interview.”
He shrugged. “Let’s go, then. My house? Aunt May’s on a baking bender so she won’t bother us. Plus, I don’t have to put on the suit until you take the photo.”
“You’re okay with it?”
He smiled, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Of course. You’re my best friend. But don’t spread it around that you know Spiderman.”
You nodded quickly. “Of course not. You know I wouldn’t.”
“To my house?” he repeated as you approached the corner sidewalk. One direction led to your house, the other to his.
“Let me tell my mom,” you replied, producing your phone from your jacket pocket to send her a text. Your mom loved Peter, so she never minded you being late for curfew as long as you were with him. With the text sent, you stuffed the phone back into your pocket and followed Peter down the familiar road to his house.

Your heart pounded in your chest like a woodpecker tapping on a tree as you sat on Peter’s unmade bed. The brunet sat beside you, tossing his backpack to the floor. You gently placed your bag on the floor as well, tugging your notebook and pen out of it. Plucking up your phone, you unlocked the screen and opened up the voice recording app. Hitting “record,” you set the phone on the bed and turned to Peter.
“So, how do you wanna start this thing?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
“Well, how long have you been Spiderman?” you inquired, scribbling the question onto your notebook.
He exhaled a breath. “About a year, now.”
“How did you become Spiderman?” you continued. “It’s one of the most common inquiries besides ‘who is Spiderman’s secret identity?’”
“I got bit,” the brunet chuckled. “I was taking photos and a spider crawled up my arm and bit my hand.” He held out his limb to expose the bite mark that sat still visible on his tan skin.
“Was it venomous? Is that how you got your powers?”
Peter shrugged. “I think it was radioactive.”
With a nod, you scrawled out his reply. “What’s are the best and worst things about being Spiderman?”
“The best thing is saving people,” he replied quietly, and you glanced up at the soft expression on his face. “I can’t save everyone, but… It feels amazing to know I help people.”
You smiled softly at him. “And the worst?”
“Not being able to tell anyone,” he sighed. “It’s exhausting to keep it a secret, and I hate lying to all of my loved ones.”
He reached for your phone, tapping the “stop” button on the voice recorder. You quirked a brow, watching his movements. Peter scooted closer before taking your hands in his own.
“At least I don’t have to lie to you,” he murmured.
You smiled softly. “Are you okay?”
“While we’re on the subject of not lying… I have something to tell you.”
The sledgehammer that had taken placed of your heart thumped harder in your chest. “What is it?”
He leaned in, his eyes fluttering closed as his lips ghosted over yours. Closing your own eyes, you melted against his touch, working your lips against his. His hand lifted to caress your cheek, holding your head in place as he sighed into the kiss.
You finally broke for air, and you stared up at the brunet in shock. “What was that?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve had a crush on you since we met. I just finally got the nerve to do something about it.”
“I’m glad you did,” you smiled.
He leaned in again, kissing you deeply. You returned it passionately, tossing your notebook to the floor so that you could crawl onto his lap and tangle your hands in his hair.

A week later, you sat in Mrs. Pratt’s class while she read your article on Spiderman.
“This is exactly what I wanted,” she beamed. “It’s so real and passionate. You write about Spiderman like you’re his secret lover.”
A blush dusted your cheeks as your gaze wandered to the doorway. There stood Peter with a proud grin on his lips as he waited for your meeting to end, listening to Mrs. Pratt’s praise.
The teacher finally let you go, informing you that you would graduate with flying colors, and you rushed to the door to meet your boyfriend.
“So, you’re Spiderman’s secret lover, huh?” Peter chuckled. “I’ve been wondering. Does that mean you’re stepping out on me?”
You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours. “You’re such a dork, Parker.”
He exhaled a laugh. “You love it.”
He kissed you chastely on the cheek as you walked out of school, heading to the park for an afternoon date.