Well Crap

Morgan is back and raring to go! Tonight I’m busting out the old laptop to try and complete as many requests as possible. I’ve been caught up with school and AP exams and mental stuff, but I’m here! Let’s fucking go. 

I KNOW! I’m terrible, I know. I’m super caught up in schoolwork this week, and I couldn’t find the time to finish the newly suggested Clint one-shot! I want it to be good, anon, so don’t be sad. I still love you. <3. But, to make it up to you, I’m gonna try to write two by this Sunday. Hopefully. If I can. Crossing my fingers. 

~Admin Morgan

Schematics

Leo Fitz x Reader

Written by: Admin Morgan

Suggested by: Morgan’s Sister Delaney

Prompt: Anything with pre-brain injury Fitz, with a possible sequel later?

A/N: I ship Fitz and Simmons more than life itself, but just in case there are those of us who just think Fitz is an adorable muffin like I do. Because he is. Have you seen him with his curly hair and those cute little polka dot shirts and cardigans? I’m done. I apologize.

It hadn't been long at the SHIELD Academy before you had your first major assignment. The Black Widow herself needed new Stingers, as her old ones had been ruined during the Battle of New York. And your class had been given the task to design newer, better Stingers. Groups were assigned, and you were put in the same group as the now-famous Fitz and Simmons, the students at the top of your class. No one was sure if they were dating or not-- but it wasn't often that you'd see one without the other. Needless to say, of your group didn't win the challenge, it would be a shock to everyone in the class. Your programming combined with Simmons' scientific knowledge and Fitz's tech would throw the competition in the trash-- or the bin, as Fitz would say. "(Y/N)!" You heard Simmons call out as your groups gathered together. Glancing up, you smiled as the two came over to the lab table. "Simmons, Fitz." You waved back as they sat in seats across from you, almost in perfect unison. "We're so excited to work with you, honestly. I was worried we'd get paired up with some biohazard kid." Simmons smiled, sliding a paper across the table to you. "We've worked this up." You took the paper, your eyebrows raising slightly. The paper was already filled with ideas similar to the ones that littered your own notebook, scribbled down as the assignment was given out. "And if we get your schematics, the design would be perfect." Fitz pipes up, smiling. You glanced up at him, nodding. "Of course. I've got a bunch of ideas too. You could add an automatic here, and she'd have more mobility if you trimmed off this." You point to the design, pulling out a large piece of paper to sketch it out on. "Brilliant!" Simmons beamed, tapping her pencil on the desk. "We can start designing now, but afterwards, we could finish in the cafeteria, and begin building in Fitz's room. He's got it all set up for things like this." "Yeah, of course." You smiled back, and quickly dove in to begin working as quickly as possible. You had an hour between lab periods, as multiple people aimed for the same goal as your group. Time passed, and before you knew it, your design schematic was done.

“Well. Damn.” You chuckled, sitting back. Fitz smiled as well, his eyes shining brightly.

“This is gonna be bloody amazing.” Fitz beamed. You glanced up, smiling back at him. He held your gaze for a moment, as you shifted on your feet, biting your lip, before glancing back at the schematics as Simmons clears her throat.

“So, (Y/N), you can join us at our lunch table today.” Jemma smiled, rolling up the blueprint and tapping into the hologram table. You nod, downloading the schematic onto your SHIELD phone, clearing your own throat. “Right. Like high school all over again.” You looked up, smiling at her. “This time, I’ve got a seat.”

The duo laughed. “Well, we’re happy you’re joining us. We could use the help of another brilliant mind, especially someone with an--”

“Programming mind. We could always use an extra pair of hands, you can always join us.” Fitz finishes, taking the schematic from her. You gather your things, moving them to your bag and nodding.

“See you in a bit, lovebirds.” You tease, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Oh, oh, no.” Jemma laughs, shaking her head. “We’re not--”

“Dating.” Fitz was beet red nonetheless. “Jemma’s practically my sister, it would be--”

“Practically incest.” Simmons finished, shaking her head. You glanced between them, your eyebrow raised.

“You’re sure? You guys seem to finish each other’s--” You start, to only be cut off by Fitz.

“Sentences. We know, it happens with everyone, after we get comfortable.” He smiled over at you, shrugging. You smiled faintly, your mind wandering for a second, before blinking back to the present.

“I’ll see you in the cafeteria?” You slid your glasses up your nose, tucking your pen behind your ear. “See you then.” Both of them smile back at you, waving and starting off together, whispering about something. You nod, to yourself, rubbing your forehead, starting in the opposite direction to your locker, putting in your fingerprint and setting down excess books, your mind in a whirl. On one hand, you were thinking of the project-- adjustments, additions, things to take off. On the other, small interruptions of the way Fitz smiled at you burst through your head. You had never been boy-crazy-- being 4 years younger than most of the people in your grade had severely limited your chances with most. And, frankly, school is what was most important.

And by every power you can muster, it would stay the most important. Boys weren’t important. Fitz wasn’t… Well, Fitz was different. Fitz was smart, and knowledgeable, and was damn cute. You shook your head, practically slapping yourself across the face. ’Stop thinking about it! You’re gonna make it worse for yourself.  ‘ You thought, closing your locker with a breath. Glancing up, you saw Fitz on the other side, clutching his notebook to his chest. ‘Speak of the angel.’ You thought, smiling.

“Fitz.” You spoke quietly, looking up at him.

“Hey.” He smiled faintly, rubbing his hand through his hair. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, yourself?” You answered back, shifting from one foot to the next.

“I figured you might like some company on your way over.” He swallowed, his voice shaky from… was that a hint of nervousness? You willed yourself to not read too far into it, a slight smile crossing your lips.

“Thank you. We can discuss the schematics, if you’d--”

“Like. Sure. I don’t mind.” He finished, looking down at you. “I was thinking we could add a program that can write in lethal vs nonlethal weapons, or the smoke she would like.”

You nodded, pulling out your notepad and scribbling down notes as you walked. “Yeah, and add the new non lethals. Do you think we should add a--”

“Tracker? I don’t think she would like that.” Fitz shook his head.

“No, a voice command unit.” You glanced up, the corners of your lips turning up. “Unfortunately, Fitz, Simmons and I think differently.”

Fitz’s cheeks turn a slight pink, shaking his head. “I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Fitz.” You nudge him, pulling open the door to the cafeteria. “Loosen up.” You stepped through, holding the door for him. “Besides, I think Widow would probably shoot us both personally if we inserted a tracker.”

“Right.” He chuckled, looking around. “THe last thing we need is a Russian ex-KGB spy on our tails.”

“And what would result in a failing grade.” You smiled, sliding into the seat across from Simmons.

“Ah. (Y/N), did Fitz tell you about the--”

“HE did.” You nodded, smiling faintly. Seems that spending enough time with them could cause anyone to finish each other’s thoughts.

“And (Y/N) had the brilliant idea of voice commands.” Fitz sat at the end of the table between you and Jemma.

“Yeah, I can write up an insertable program. I can probably insert a few, if it comes to that.” You nod, shifting and pulling out your SHIELD-provided laptop, opening your programming program. Typing away, you glance up when you're needed, adding small points as they continue to edit the schematics, popping out a centimeter wide chip from your computer and handing it to Fitz.

“Tada.” You said, your eyes flashing brightly.

Both of their eyes light up, beaming. “Well that certainly was fast.”

“I’ve got a habit of being quick at these sorts of things.” You joked, nodding.

“Thank goodness we hacked the system and put you in our group, then.” Fitz smiled, his eyes shining with mischief.

Your eyebrows shot up, flattered. “Oh?”

“Of course. That’s how we get paired up each time.” Simmons chuckled, nodding. “And Fitz was insistent we chose you this time.”

Your cheeks darkened slightly, your eyes darting over to Fitz to see a similar reaction from him.

“Well, I’m flattered.” You grinned, glancing back at Simmons.

“No, thank you.” She smiled back, glancing over at Fitz, then back at you, beaming. “Besides, I don’t mind having another girl on my team. Especially when you seem to catch Fitz’s eye. Makes people finally stop thinking we’re together.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, your eyes wide. “I… I, uh.”

Fitz kicked at Jemma’s leg under the table, rolling his eyes. “Now is not the time, Jemma!”

“I’m simply helping, Leo.” She teased, wincing slightly. “Don’t you kick me.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face, looking over at Fitz as he turned away from Simmons, catching your eye, looking down.

“I think we’ll get a good grade on this.” Jemma smiled. “Especially when we’ve got two lovebirds on the same one.”

“Jemma!” Fitz snapped, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying. Agent Romanoff will be pleased. As will both of you, by the end of this.”

“Jemma!” Both you and Fitz say, at the same time, eyes wide. Your cheeks burned, shaking your head.

“We’ll see.” She smiled, looking back down at the schematics. “We will see.”

Disclaimer

(A/N: I’m back! And on time! I absolutely love this one. There’s definitely going to be a sequel at some point, because Fitz, as previously mentioned, is an absolute muffin and I love him. The minx. I have an idea for two sequels, of a first kiss between this reader and Fitz, and one post season 1 of AoS, so... See you next Sunday! ~Admin Morgan (: )

Beautiful

40s!James Buchanan Barnes x shy!Reader

Written by: Morgan

Suggested by: Admin Morgan

Prompt: Bucky and the Reader go to the beach on a picnic date. The Reader is self-conscious of how she looks, especially in the newfangled bathing suits of the forties. Bucky consoles her, and cuteness ensues.

“C’mon, doll, the car is packed and everything!”

You look in the mirror, fixing your pin curled hair again. Adjusting your bathing suit one last time, you sigh, pulling your dress over it. Today was not a good day, not in your mind, anyways. You had eaten pasta last night, spaghetti and meatballs. Mrs. Barnes had watched you eat every last noodle, encouraging you on when you said that you were full. This morning, you felt it in  every part of yourself that you hated. Closing your eyes, you walked out into the room, plastering smile on your face.

“You look ravishing, (Y/N)” Bucky says, walking up to you and giving you a kiss on the cheek. You blush slightly, smiling. He grinned, offering his arm to you. You take it, placing your hands in the crease of his elbow, and the two of you walk to the car, sliding into the seats. As you drive, Bucky sings along to songs on the radio to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. A soft smile crosses your lips, and you lean into his shoulder, turning up the volume and humming along. His own grin widens, and he speeds down the road, pulling up to the beach shortly.

Bucky, always the gentleman, insists on opening the car door for you, as you adjust the sunglasses on your face.Again, you loop your arm in his, leaning your head on his arm. Sliding your bag onto your opposite arm, you crossed the beach with him, giggling as you maneuvered the sand and through the others who had taken advantage of the beautiful weather. After reaching a reasonably distant spot, both you and Bucky spread the blankets, sitting down on them. He lays out next to you, resting his temple on his palm, his opposite hand resting on your thigh and rubbing small circles into it. He had noticed your discomfort, playing with the edge of your dress.

“Doll, you look ravishing.” Your eyes dart to his, biting your lip nervously. He smiles that dorky smile you had grown to love. “I promise.” He pushes himself up to pull your dress over your head, exposing the suit underneath. Your breath caught, your arms subconsciously moving to cover your middle, your teeth digging into your lip harder.

“Buck..” Your voice is shaky with fear, shaking your head. Bucky’s face falls, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“You listen to me right now. You are by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” You open your mouth to cut him off, but he shakes his head, pressing your lips together quickly, continuing after you sit back. “ And, I think you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. You’re kind, and sweet, and gorgeous. And, you look beautiful in everything’ that you wear. Hell, I just almost had to tackle you to the ground the first time I saw ya wearin’ a suit like this. You are absoultely lovely, and I really really wanna show you off. Cause I’m really the lucky one here.” His smile, still slightly cheeky, is genuine, and your heart swells at his words.

He reaches up, brushing his thumb over your cheek, pressing his lips tenderly to your lips as you kiss him back, holding onto him, holding back your tears. His arms wrap around you, holdin you close to him, pulling back after a moment, smiling.

“I love you.” He smiles, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, Buck.” You smile back, leaning into his touch. He pushed himself to his feet, pulling you with him.

“Well good. Cause we’re goin’ swimmin.” His Brooklyn accent shines through as he starts pulling you towards the water with a grin. You protest, making every excuse you could, but knowing somehow you’re winding up in the ocean. Bucky scoops you up, carrying you down to the water, grinning.

“I hate you.” You grumble, feeling his arms drop out from under you as he drops you into the water with a squeal. You wince slightly at the chilly water, popping up a moment later to see a hysterical Bucky. Needless to say, chaos ensued. And you didn’t give another thought to how you looked in that bathing suit to anyone else-- because in Bucky’s eyes, you looked beautiful.

A/N: We’re back, with one shots to come! My goal is to write one per week, and post it Sunday night. Hope you enjoy this little blurb, and don’t be afraid to send in prompts! 

~Admin Morgan :)

Disclaimer Page

Hot Chocolate

Written by: Admin Morgan :)

Suggested by: Internet friend El

Prompt: Natasha has a nightmare, and the reader comforts her.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: Cuteness, if you're super homophobic I guess you might have an issue with this.

You feel the mattress shift beside you, the figure next to you tossing and turning. Groggily, you open your eyes, pulling the covers up to your shoulders, before calling out. 

"Tash?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, and scratchy from sleep. There is no response, just slight muttering in Russian. 

"English, Tash, it's too early for that." You roll over to face her, smiling softly, before seeing her. Her face is contorted into a grimace, and her eyes are squeezed shut tightly. She's sweating, and her hands are gripping the comforter tightly, her knuckles stark white. Her mumbles slip out of her mouth, her head shaking rapidly. A nightmare. 

"Tash, wake up." You feel her body tensing under the covers, her legs curled into a fetal position, and her torso tucking around her knees. Carefully, you pull a hand out from under the sheets, and reaching out, you place it on her cheek, swiping your thumb across her cheek. "It's all a dream, Tasha, all you've got to do is open your eyes. It'll all be gone, love." 

Her eyes wrench open, her breathing erratic. Her eyes dart around, panicked for a moment, unsure of where she is, before settling on your own eyes. You smile at her, running your thumb over her cheek again. 

"Hey." You whisper, feeling her muscles loosen. 

"Hey" she whispers back, catching her breath. 

"Bad one?" 

She nods, pulling herself closer to you, resting her forehead on yours. You wrap your arm around her torso, rubbing small circles into her side. 

"Wanna talk about it?" you whisper, searching her expression. She shakes her head, and you nod, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. 

"How about hot chocolate?" you say, resting your chin on the top of her head as she snuggles into your chest. 

"I could go for some hot cocoa," she says, and you feel her smile slightly. Slowly, you sit up, sliding out of bed, kissing her forehead again. "I'll add marshmallows, don't worry." She nods, her body still slightly tense. You smile at her, before walking into the other room, setting a kettle to boil and reaching up to grab the cocoa powder and marshmallows. Pulling two mugs from the cabinet, you pour the hot water onto the powder in each cup, stirring. As you stir, you hear the soft padding of feet, and you smile at her as she hops up onto the counter next to you, stealing marshmallows from the bag before you add them to the steaming mug. You hand one to her, sliding your hand into hers, leading her over to the sofa. The two of you settle down, your limbs entangling quickly as she pulls you closer, resting her head on your shoulder, taking a sip from her mug. You copy the action, taking a long sip, and placing your head on top of hers. You feel her relax, and you hum softly, kissing her head. 

"Better?" you say quietly, sipping your mug. 

"Much better," she says, resting her free hand on your thigh, tracing small patterns into your skin. "Thank you."

"Anytime." 

You sit in silence for a while, the only sound is the sound of empty mugs on the coffee table. She takes a deep breath, opening her mouth to speak, before closing it again. 

"You don't have to say anything, Tash. It's alright," you say, rubbing her arm slowly. She nods, exhaling gratefully. 

"How'd I get lucky enough to have you in my life?" She whispers, a soft smile on her face. 

Your face flushes slightly, and you chuckle. "I think it's the opposite, love." She shakes her head, her smile turning into a wide grin. "Nope. I must've done something right." 

"And I must've given Clint a thousand pounds of coffee to get your number, so I'm the lucky one," you say teasingly. 

"Alright, I'm even irritating myself. Agree to disagree?" She looks up at you, a twinkle in her eyes. You nod, kissing her nose. 

"Agreed." Her nose wrinkles slightly, and she repeats the gesture before curling up in your arms, pulling you down to cuddle with her on the couch, as she rests an arm around your hips. 

"Love you," she whispers, her eyes half-closed, foggy with fatigue. 

"Love you too," you whisper back, smiling softly. 

Slowly, she drifts off, her head nestled into the crook of your neck, and you fall asleep shortly after, a small smile on both of your faces.

One-Shot requests!

Hey everyone!

Morgan and I are having tons of fun writing these one-shots for you, but we are slowly running out of ideas (we only have like five left) so we need all of you to start sending in requests, so we can have them to write and post!

Not to mention I suck at coming up with plot ideas. Fan fiction ideas, I’m pretty good.  But making one chapter, short and sweet, ideas.  Nope. 

So, please send in your ideas for us to write! Just click on “submit an idea” on our blog to request a one-shot!

-Admin Olivia

Childhood Idol

Suggested By: Admin Olivia

Prompt: On a trip to the Air and Space Museum, you start talking to someone about the new Captain America Exhibit.  Little do you know that you are talking to the Captain himself.

Pairing: Steve RogersxReader

Warnings: Language!

Most girls your age wouldn’t get so much of a kick at visiting Washington D.C.  Even more would despise having to go to the Air and Space Museum. But most of all, almost all girls your age would never step foot in the new Captain America exhibit.  

But you, you love Captain America.  You love his story, the Howling Commandos.  Heck, you even did your 8th grade report (so many years ago) on the impact Captain America left on the world.  In short, saying you were a casual fan of the superhero was an understatement.

However, you knew you were the odd one out; most people would laugh at any diehard Captain America fan a few years ago.  But, after recent events, your childhood idol reawoke, almost from the dead, and yours-and nobody’s life has ever been the same.

You grin as you skip into the exhibit, the buzzing crowd of people too busy to notice your over-excitement. The first thing you see is a height chart of Cap before and after the serum (you’re just a bit taller than before the serum).  You walk through, reading every article, re-learning information you previously read in his biography, wikipedia, et cetera. Plus, you see the original Captain America suit, which in itself was a treat.

As you reach the end of the exhibit, you see an article on the wall about James Barnes, whom you knew and researched to be Captain America’s childhood best friend.

“I just think it’s so sad, what happened to James.” You turn absent-mindedly to the man standing next to you; he is much taller than you and is wearing a hoodie and tinted glasses.

“Hmm?” he looks over to you, tilting his head slightly.

“Well, you know how James died? Well, I’m saying it must have been really hard on Cap, especially during the war.”

“Oh yeah, it must have ruined him.”

“I mean, just imagine having this best friend that inspired you to go to war.  A best friend and idol.  And then he dies right in front of you.  I wouldn’t be able to deal with that, emotionally.”

He shifts uncomfortably, turning slightly pale.  “Yeah. Me too.”

It is silent for a few seconds as the both of you finish reading the article.

“So, are you a huge fan of Captain America?”

You scoff, “Fan?  More like obsession. He was always the man I looked up to, especially on a feminist stance.  Women are still viewed as weak, so was Cap before the serum. Captain America is proof that anyone can be strong and brave.” The man stands there, speechless.  “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Steve.” He smiles.

“Ha!” You laugh.  “You have the same name as Captain America!”

Steve shyly looks at the ground, laughing as well.  “Yeah, I do.”

“I’m (Y/N).” You smile at him, and he gives you a genuine smile as a reply.  “So, how did you first become a fan of the great Cap?”

He shifts uncomfortably once more, and bites his lip in confusion.  “Uh, I guess my parents were huge fans, so I guess I was raised to be a fan of him.”

“I’m kind of the same way.  I learned about Cap in history class fifth grade.  Ever since I’ve had the biggest crush on him.” You blush.

You see Steve blush as well. “You may have some competition.”

You sigh loudly, “Yeah, Peggy.  But he would be way too busy for me anyway.  Plus, it’s just a celebrity crush.  Never gonna happen.”

“You might be surprised,” You look over to see Steve take off his glasses and you almost fall over in shock.

“Holy shit…. You-you’re him! Is it really you?” Steve freaking Rogers puts back on his glasses and nods, laughing. “I just admitted I had a freaking crush on you… FUCK!.”

“Language!” He whispers.

“Oh, shit, sorry.”  You shake your head.  “Sorry.  I’m just a bit skittish because I’m talking to Captain America!” You yell.

“Shhhh.  I kind of don’t want anyone to notice me.”

“Oh… okay.” you whisper.  “But i just embarrassed myself so badly ughhhh.  I wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to speak to me again.” You look down.  “Nice job, (Y/N).  First time meeting Cap and you fully embarrass yourself.” You mutter.

“Don’t be embarrassed.  I actually found it quite adorable.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, but what I didn’t find adorable was when you talked about my best friend dying right in front of me.”

You facepalm. “Oh my god.  I’m so sorry.”

He laughs, shaking his head.  “It’s fine.  It’s been nearly 70 years.”  Steve lights up suddenly, “Hey. I have an idea. You’re a ‘super fan’, right?” He puts air quotes in the air, and you nod. “How about I quiz you, over some food?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, let’s go outside and eat some hot dogs.” He laughs. “Call it your first date with the celebrity crush.” You can’t help but smile.  “But I doubt you’ll be able to answer more than five of the questions I ask you.” He says, elbowing your arm playfully.

“Oh, is this turning into a bet?”

“Absolutely.  If you answer more than five, you get to give me your number.  If you don’t, I give you mine.”

You sigh sarcastically.  “Oh, that’s just not fair.”

“Do we have a deal?”

You shake his hand.  “Game on.”

Vacation’s Not so Bad After All

Suggested by: Admin Morgan

Prompt: Pietro saves you from the train in AOU and after the battle he comes back and asks for your number and/or coffee or something of the sort.

Pairing: Pietro MaximoffxFem!Reader

Disclaimer

You wrap the thin blanket tighter around you, attempting to gather your thoughts after what happened only hours ago. How had an “average” vacation turned into being trapped on a rogue train?, you ask yourself.  Honestly, you expected it to be the end. After all, the only reason you came out alive was because a) someone stopped the train, and b) another someone carried you on to a weird, floating form of transportation: where you were now.

“Hi.” A sudden voice pulls you out of your thoughts, making you shake your head slightly.  You look in the direction from where the voice came from.  

“Er, hi.”  You force a weak smile as you remember that this was the someone who carried you on to this… flying… thing.

“I was just wondering if you were alright.” He speaks with a very, very, thick Russian accent. You find it slightly hard to understand.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you bite your lip.  “Hey, you’re the guy who saved me, right?”

The man nods, sitting down next to you. “Yes.”

You awkwardly look down, loosening your grip on the shock blanket.  “What’s your name?”

“Pietro.  Pietro Maximoff.”

You smile, looking back up at Pietro.  “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”  You offer your hand out to him, and he gladly shakes it.  “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, where are we now?”

“I do not mind at all.  We are on a SHIELD Helicarrier, apparently. I was also very confused ven I first saw it.”

“Wait, you’ve never been on one of these before, and you’re an Avenger?” You scoff.

Pietro laughs in response.  “Believe it or not, this was my first day on the job.”’

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

He smirks slightly. “Was I that impressive?”

“Well, you did save my life, and a whole bunch of other people’s too. Although your technique was a little sloppy.”

He tilts his head, smirking.  “Was it, now?”

You nod, a small smile on your face. “After all, you did save people, but what about other obstacles? Trash cans, grocery carts. Hell, I even think I saw a fruit stand. What about those poor papayas, left to die?” You smile, elbowing him teasingly.

He laughs, “So, you would rather me save the papayas then?  I guess delicious fruits are more important to save than people, huh?”

You chuckle, nodding. “Have you ever had papayas? God’s gift to humanity, right there.”

“I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure.”

You shake your head, smiling softly. “Well, then, I’ll have to give you one to try sometime. They really are good.”

He smiles genuinely.  “Maybe I’ll get to try one sooner than later…”

Just then, Tony Stark walks over to the two of you.  “Sorry to break up the party here folks, but Quicky, we need you in the conference room.  Your sister wants to speak with you.”

Pietro looks back at you.  “I’m sorry, duty calls.” He bits his lip and continues, “But, if you’d like, ve should go out sometime- I mean, ve should talk some more, over food.”

“Papayas, I’m assuming?” You smirk and He nods, smiling. “Here, I’ll give you my number.”

“I don’t have anyvere to write it down…”

“Come on…..” Stark said impatiently.

“Just-uh- find me on FaceBook. Email me from there.”

“Alright,” Pietro stands up, glancing at a now gone Stark (he must have been so impatient he left).  He looks back at you.  “Email you later, (Y/N).”

And with that, he runs off in a flash, leaving so fast a sudden breeze blows off the blanket you had completely forgotten was there.  You grab said blanket from behind you, and wrap it around you once more.

Disclaimers

WE DO NOT OWN MARVEL (we wish...)  We are just really dedicated fans who love writing!  The only characters we own (but not even) are the “readers”, but we don’t really know the readers, so technically we own nothing. :)

We will add more disclaimers as they are needed.

A very important disclaimer about all the characters:

THE CHARACTER WE ARE USING IS NOT DEAD UNLESS STATED OTHERWISE.

Clint Barton

Both of the writers ship Clintasha.

Obviously Clint wouldn’t have any kids in these one-shots, but just reminding you.

Tony Stark

Obviously, Pepper wouldn’t be dating Tony in these cases, but just a reminder.

Coffee, Guns, and Stitches

Suggested by: The Admins!

Prompt: Clint appears at your house one night after not speaking to you for months, complaining about medical and his spy life.

Pairing: Clint BartonxFemCop!Reader

Disclaimer

“And finally, for some peace and quiet.” you grumble, plopping down on the couch, running your hands through your hair. Setting your feet up on the coffee table, you switch on the television, opening the carton of takeout. You stare at the screen, not paying attention. You’ve been a cop for 10 years now, and you had thought you’d seen it all. After all, you’d fought through the Battle of New York, and the aliens fought a lot harder than most petty theft offenders. That’s where you had met Clint, after all. He’d shot an arrow towards a Chitauri about to stab you in the back, and in turn, you shot one between the eyes when it grabbed him in a chokehold. Needless to say, you’d had each other’s backs. Hell, you’d even gone over to SHIELD headquarters with him, training with him. He’d come to the station, playing pranks on some of the kinder policemen and being overall respectful to the others. Friendships were not always the easiest as an officer, but the bond appeared quickly and out of nowhere.

But, as it always seems, all good things come to an end. Clint had disappeared for a good 3 months at this point, not calling or dropping in. You’d like to say that you were over it-- after all, the best friends you had worked with you-- but you were happy with Clint, trying strange foods at marketplaces, tasting coffee from every cafe in New York. He even taught you ASL so the two of you could speak when he didn’t have his hearing aids in.   Pushing the image of him away, you try to turn your attention to the TV, a news story on some random portals in London dancing across the screen, the sound muffled. Placing the takeout down, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, watching the screen. Your eyes barely close when a sharp tap comes from the window, and you start up, a hand reaching for the gun that would be at your waist. You run to the counter, where you had left your belt, grabbing the gun, and slowly walking towards the window. The tapping sounded again, and you opened the window with one hand, keeping your gun trained on the shape outside your window.

“Well, that’s no way to say hello to an old friend.” a familiar voice speaks, and as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see none other than Clint Barton himself, a smug look on his face.

“You could’ve called.” you say, lowering your gun.

“Didn’t have time.” he frowns slightly, wincing and clutching his side. “Now, to skip the chitchat, let me in?”

Rolling your eyes, you step back, motioning for him to enter. He sits down on the windowsill, rolling in and collapsing in a heap on the ground, groaning. Reaching out, you grip his side to help him up, your hands coming away with blood.

“Shit, Barton, what did you do to yourself?” You help him up, laying him down on the couch. He closed his eyes tightly, furrowing his brow.

“Sneak attack. Six men, rappelled out of a helicopter or something into my cover.I got four of ‘em, but two were quick. Not as quick as me, of course, but quick.” He breathes deeply, his face turning slightly pale.

You grit your teeth. “See what you can do about that shirt, Barton, before I have to cut it off.” You get up, walking to the kitchen to get the first aid kit and a needle and thread.

“You could at least ask me for a drink first, (Y/L/N).” He chuckles, wincing as he lifts up the edges of his shirt.

“Shut your mouth, Barton, and let me see the wound.” He lifts it up high enough, exposing a nasty gash in his abdomen, blood oozing from the wound. “They got you good, huh.”

He nods, breathing deeply as you apply pressure to the wound with a fresh towel. Reaching up, he taps his ears, showing that he has no aids in. You nod, taking the towel off and examining the stab. It would need stitches, and most likely hydrogen peroxide to prevent infection. Sitting back onto your heels, you wave to get his attention.

You’re a fucking idiot. You sign to him, shaking your head. He smiles, nodding.

I think I know that by now, you tell me practically all the time. He signs back quickly, wincing slightly.

You’re going to need stitches, and you should not have come to me for this, you know SHIELD has the best medical around. You frown, knowing your ASL was a little rusty, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless.

And you know that I hate the nurses. They’re too touchy-feely for me.

They’re supposed to be, they’re doctors.

And you are my friend. Please, just… It’ll be easier if you just do it.

You sigh, nodding. Picking up the needle, you steel yourself. Sure, you’d done this before. It wasn’t to your best friend, sure, but still. It’ll be easy as cake. Easy as pie. Swallowing, you thread the needle, cleaning it with an antiseptic wipe before beginning to sew up the wound. Now, you were no seamstress, but the sounds coming out of Clint’s mouth should not be happening. You glare up at him and find him smirking down, teasing. You roll your eyes, finishing quickly, sitting back and tying the string.

Poking the gash with his finger slightly, he grins. Congratulations, you’ve completed the pattern. Now, I expect you in embroidery class every Monday.

You stand up, shaking your head and cleaning up. When you’re done, you find Clint fiddling with the remote, eating the takeout you had placed on the coffee table.

“You dick!” you say to him, grabbing the carton. He sighs.

“I am not a dick, I am a human being.” he raises an eyebrow. “How have you been?”

You raise an eyebrow as well, sitting down on the arm of the couch near his head. “Finally want to keep in touch now that I’ve saved your life, Barton?”

He sighs, patting your leg. “I’m sorry, (Y/L/N). I can’t help that Fury’s given me missions through the roof.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Please, it’s not like you don’t have a phone. You could’ve been dead, for all I know.”

He chuckles, signing. I missed you too.

You smile softly, signing back. You’re still an ass.

But, I’m your ass.

You feel your cheeks heat up slightly, and you turn back to the TV before signing.

You better be.

He grins, his eyes closing, signing clumsily. Thanks for patching me up, (Y/N).

Anytime, Clint. Anytime.

Eventually, Clint had nodded off on the couch, and you settled on the armchair, checking his side every few hours, and you fell asleep at the early morning time. You woke up to find a cinnamon muffin and a travel cup of coffee on your counter, with a note.

Abraço, down in East Village. Decent coffee, excellent donuts. Tomorrow at 8?

Grinning, you pull out your phone, texting him a simple “No shit, Sherlock.” Maybe being a cop wouldn’t be so bad after all, with a cup of coffee and an archer by your side. Not bad at all.

New Character!

Hey! I just saw Ant Man (it was awesome, by the way) so even though I haven’t written anything yet, I will add Scott Lang to my character list if anyone wants some ScottxReader!

So, you want to submit a request?

It’s easy! Just fill out this form and wait a few days while I write it up. Though, I do ask that you read these rules before you submit.

Rules

Character List!

We will write drabbles for all of the following characters! This list will be updated as the two of us gradually watch more marvel things.  You can also click on the name of the character to find all of the drabbles we have written for the person.